LIBRARY 

BX  5200 . J3   1832  v. 3 
jay,  William,  1769-1853. 
Standard  works  of  the  Rev. 
William  Jay  comprising 


The  Jolm       Krebs  Donation. 

| 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/standardworksofr03jayw 


STANDARD  WORKS 


of  thf; 


REV.  WILLIAM  3  AY; 


OF  ARGYLE  CHAPEL  BATH 


COMPRISING  ALL  HIS  WORKS  KNOWN  IN  THIS  COUNTRY ; 

AND,  ALSO,    SEVERAL  WHICH  HAVE  NOT,  HERETOFORE,  BEEN  PRE- 
SENTED TO  THE  AMERICAN  PUBLIC. 


FROM  A  COPY  FURNISHED  BY  THE  AUTHOR  TO  THE  PUBLISHERS. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 


VOLUME  III. 


CONTAINING 


SERMONS:— LIFE  OF  WINTER:— MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK,— A 
CHARGE  TO  THE  WIFE  OF  A  MINISTER :— AND  THE 
WIFE'S  ADVOCATE,  &c.  &c.  &c. 


BALTIMORE: 
PLASKITT  &  CO.,  AND  ARMSTRONG  &  PLASKITT. 
1832. 


SERMONS. 


Page 

SERMON  L 

N  Mistakes  concerning  t lie  Number  of  the  Righteous  5 
SERMON  IT. 

Vriie  Nature  of  genuine  Religion   10 


SERMON  XIV. 


Hope. 


Page 

..  82 


SERMON  XV. 


e  Parable  of  the  Two  Sons   87 


SERMON  III. 
Vows  called  to  Remembrance   16 


SERMON  IV. 
The  Triumphs  of  Patience  


22 


SERMON  V. 

*VThe  Sufferings  of  our  Saviour  necessary..   27 

SERMON  VI. 
VThe  Young  admonished  


SERMON  VII. 
The  Condemnation  of  Self-will  


40 


SERMON  VIII. 
The  Gospel  demands  and  deserves  Attention  46 


SERMON  IX. 
f*On  Progress  in  Religion  , 


52 


^                           SERMON  X. 
The  Secure  alarmed   58 


SERMON  XI. 
The  Privileges  of  the  Righteous — 


66 


SERMON  XII. 
The  Condition  of  Christians  in  the  World   71 

SERMON  XIII. 
"""Concupiscence  punished   78 


SERMON  XVI. 


Christian  Diligence. 


92 


SERMON  XVII. 


The  Abuse  of  Divine  Forbearance   97 

SERMON  XVIII. 
Assurance   101 

SERMON  XIX. 
Domestic  Happiness   105 

^                      SERMON  XX. 
Happiness  in  Death   no 

SERMON  XXI. 
Service  done  for  God  rewarded   115 

SERMON  XXII. 
The  Disappointments  of  Life   119 

SERMON  XXIII. 
Neutrality  in  Religion  exposed   124 

SERMON  XXIV. 
The  Family  of  our  Lord   129 

SERMON  XXV. 
The  Saviour  honoured  in  his  People   135 

SERMON  XXVI. 
The  Value  of  Life   142 


3 


SERMONS. 


TO  THE  CHURCH  AND  CONGREGATION  ASSEMBLING  IN  ARGYLE  CHAPEL,  BATH, 
THE  FOLLOWING  SERMONS  ARE  RESPECTFULLY  AND 
AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED, 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


SERMON  I. 


MISTAKES  CONCERNING  THE  NUM- 
BER OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 

Wot  ye  not  -what  the  Scripture  saith  of  Elias  ? 
ho-w  he  maketh  intercession  to  God  against 
Israel;  saying,  Lord,  they  have  billed  thy 
prophets,  and  digged  down  thine  altars  ;  and 
I  am  left  alone,  and  they  seek  my  life.  But 
•what  saith  the  answer  of  God  unto  him  ?  I 
have  reserved  to  myself  seven  thousand  men, 
■who  have  not  bo-wed  the  knee  to  the  image 
of  Baal. — Romans  xi.  2 — i. 

"Who  can  understand  his  errors'!"  How 
numerous,  how  various,  how  opposite  to  each 
other,  are  the  mistakes  of  mankind !  The 
lives  and  the  language  of  many  seem  to  imply 
a  full  persuasion,  that  there  is  very  little  evil 
in  sin — that  the  difficulties  of  religion  are  by 
no  means  great — that  it  is  an  easy  thing  to 
be  a  Christian — that  if  there  be  a  hell,  few 
are  wicked  enough  to  be  turned  into  it — and 
that  the  generality  of  our  fellow-creatures 
are  in  a  fair  way  for  heaven.  This  persua- 
sion is  as  false  as  it  is  fatal.  "  Enter  ye  in 
at  the  strait  gate :  for  wide  is  the  gate,  and 
broad  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  to  destruc- 
tion, and  many  there  be  which  go  in  thereat : 
because  strait  is  the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the 
way,  that  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few  there  be 
that  find  it." 

It  is  possible,  however,  to  fall  into  another 
extreme,  and  to  draw  an  unwarrantable  con- 
clusion respecting  the  decline  of  religion, 
and  the  fewness  of  its  adherents.  And  even 
wise  men,  and  good  men,  are  liable  to  this. 
"  Wot  ye  not  what  the  Scripture  saith  of 
Elias?  how  he  maketh  intercession  to  God 
against  Israel ;  saying,  Lord,  they  have  killed 
thy  prophets,  and  digged  down  thine  altars ; 
and  I  am  left  alone,  and  they  seek  my  life. 
But  what  saith  the  answer  of  God  unto  him  1 
I  have  reserved  to  myself  seven  thousand 
men,  who  have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  the 
image  of  Baal." 

We  are  going,  then,  to  examine  the  opinion 
that  reduces  the  number  of  the  righteous. 
We  shall  lay  open  the  various  sources  from 
1* 


which  it  proceeds;  and  by  discovering  the 
cause,  we  shall  prescribe  the  cure. 

Sometimes  we  draw  the  conclusion  from 

THE    PECULIAR    STATE  OF  OUR   OWN  MINDS. 

By  the  indisposition  of  the  body,  or  the  de- 
pression of  the  animal  spirits,  our  minds  are 
soon  affected ;  and  we  become  sad,  gloomy, 
peevish,  and  suspicious.  In  this  situation 
our  minds  are  unhinged,  and  easily  receive  a 
falling  motion — we  are  more  alive  to  the  in- 
fluence of  fear  than  hope — the  darker  the  in- 
telligence, the  more  credible — one  direction 
is  given  to  every  occurrence — and  the  inva- 
riable inference  is,  "all  these  things  are 
against  me."  And  such  seems  to  have  been 
the  condition  of  Elijah.  His  language  be- 
trays severity,  petulancy,  and  despair. 

Sometimes  we  are  led  to  this  reflection, 

BY    OBSERVING    MULTIPLIED     INSTANCES  OF 

false  profession.  These  are  to  be  seen  in 
every  period  of  the  Church.  Our  own  age 
abounds  with  them.  Some  of  these  unhappy 
characters  excite  our  surprise,  as  well  as  our 
sorrow.  They  promised  fair — they  did  many 
"  wonderful  things" — for  awhile  they  bore 
cheerfully  "the  reproach  of  the  cross" — 
they  passed  us  on  the  road,  and  reproved  the 
sluggishness  of  our  steps.  By-and-by  we 
met  them  on  their  return,  laughing  at  that 
which  once  made  them  tremble,  and  loathing 
that  which  was  once  esteemed  by  them  like 
life  from  the  dead.  Our  entreaties  were 
despised — as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  we 
watched  them  with  tears  and  alarm — sat 
down  "  discouraged  because  of  the  way,"  and 
"said  in  our  haste,  all  men  are  liars." — 
"  Take  ye  heed  every  one  of  his  neighbour, 
and  trust  ye  not  in  any  brother :  for  every 
brother  will  utterly  supplant,  and  every 
neighbour  will  walk  with  slanders."  But  it 
was  in  our  haste  we  said  this — it  was  a  rash 
conclusion.  What!  because  there  is  coun- 
terfeit coin,  is  there  no  genuine  gold  1  Were 
all  the  disciples  false,  because  one  of  them 
was  a  devil  1  "  They  went  out  from  us,  but 
they  were  not  of  us ;  for  if  they  had  been  of 
us,  they  would  no  doubt  have  continued  with 
us:  but  they  went  out,  that  it  might  be 
made  manifest  they  were  not  all  of  us."  But, 


6 


SERMON  L 


alas!  the  falling  star  strikes  every  eye,  while 
few  observe  the  fixed  and  regular  orbs.  The 
apostacy  of  one  pretender  often  excites  more 
attention  than  the  lives  of  many  solid  and  stea- 
dy Christians.  They  who  would  never  men- 
tion the  excellencies  of  professors,  will  be  for- 
ward enough  to  publish  their  disgrace.  It 
gratifies  the  malignity  of  those  who  only  wait 
for  our  halting,  and  occasions  a  triumph  in  the 
enemy's  camp — "  Aha !  so  would  we  have  it." 

The  inference  is  still  more  frequently 
derived  from  the  righteous  themselves. 
There  are  five  things  which  will  be  found  to 
have  their  influence  in  producing  it — the  ob- 
scurity OF  THEIR  STATIONS  THE  DIFFIDENCE 

OF    THEIR    DISPOSITIONS  THE    MANNER  OF 

THEIR  CONVERSION  THE  DIVERSITY  OF  THEIR 

opinions — and  the  imperfections  of  their 

CHARACTER. 

L  The  obscurity  of  the  stations  in 
which  many  of  the  righteous  are  placed,  hides 
them  from  observation.  When  the  rich  and 
the  honourable  become  pious,  they  are  not  long 
concealed.  A  thousand  eyes  are  drawn  to- 
wards the  elevation.  The  eminence  of  their 
condition  causes  their  virtues  to  shine  like  the 
reflection  of  the  sun  from  the  tops  of  high 
mountains,  seen  by  many,  and  from  afar. — 
They  are  like  a  city  set  on  a  hill,  which  can- 
not be  hid.  But  much  more  religion  than  is 
necessary  to  canonize  them,  would  be  even 
unobserved  among  the  shades  of  poverty,  and 
in  the  operations  of  common  life.  Here 
persons  have  little  opportunity  or  ability  to 
display  their  character :  they  are  often  sancti- 
fied and  removed,  unknown  to  any  but  a  few 
neighbours  involved  in  the  same  indigence. 
Their  excellencies  are  of  the  common,  sober, 
unsplendid  kind ;  or  if  they  possess  those  vir- 
tues which  distinguish  and  strike,  they  are 
rendered  incapable  of  exercising  them  by  their 
circumstances.  Courage  demands  danger. 
Where  there  is  no  dignity,  there  can  be  no 
condescension.  Where  there  are  no  distinc- 
tions to  elate,  humility  cannot  shine ;  and 
where  there  is  nothing  to  give,  benevolence 
cannot  appear.  God  indeed  "  looketh  to  the 
heart,  and  where  there  is  first  a  willing  mind, 
it  is  accepted  according  to  what  a  man  hath, 
and  not  according  to  what  he  hath  not."  In 
forming  his  estimate  of  the  services  of  his  peo- 
ple, he  considers  not  only  what  they  do,  but 
what  they  wish  to  do.  He  sees  many  a  be- 
nefactor where  there  is  nothing  given ;  many 
a  martyr  where  there  is  nothing  suffered. — 
But  we  can  only  know  them  by  "  their  fruits :" 
and  their  good  works,  as  far  as  they  are  ob- 
servable, are  few ;  their  principles,  however 
well  established,  are  checked  and  limited  both 
in  their  effect  and  discovery. — Such  are  God's 
hidden  ones;  hidden  by  the  obscurity  of  their 
stations,  and  the  restraint  of  their  circum- 
stances. They  are  candles,  but  candles  put 
under  bushels. 
The  pjor  are  too  generally  overlooked.where- 


as  by  Christians  they  should  be  principally  re- 
garded. The  dispensation  of  the  Gospel  is 
peculiarly  their  privilege ;  the  most  extensive 
provinces  of  religion  are  occupied  by  them ; 
and  were  we  to  open  a  more  familiar  inter- 
course with  them,  it  would  often  rectify  our 
mistakes.  All  exertions  to  render  the  great 
religious,  have  hitherto  proved  ineffectual; 
and  the  Bible  holds  forth  a  language,  sufficient 
to  fill  all  those  who  aim  at  their  conversion 
with  despair.  Few  comparatively  are  called 
from  the  higher  orders  of  society.  He  who 
was  poor  himself,  whose  kingdom  is  not  of 
this  world,  and  of  whom  it  wras  asked,  "  have 
any  of  the  rulers  believed  on  him?"  generally 
selects  his  followers  from  the  lower  ranks  of 
life — and  there  we  are  to  seek  them — "  I  am 
left  alone  !" — But  perhaps,  complaining  pro- 
phet, you  have  been  only  at  court — walking 
through  palaces  or  mansions — examining  the 
high  places  of  the  earth.  "What  dost  thou 
here,  Elijah  \" — Who  led  thee  here  in  search 
of  religion ! — "  Not  many  wise  men  after  the 
flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  are 
called." — "How  can  ye  believe  who  receive 
honour  one  of  another,  and  seek  not  the  hon- 
our that  cometh  from  God  only?" — "How 
hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  It  is  easier  for  a  ca- 
mel to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than 
for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God."  The  voice  of  heaven  calls  you  away 
from  the  "gold  ring,  and  the  goodly  clothing" — 
"Hearken,  my  beloved  brethren:  hath  not 
God  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world,  rich  in 
faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom  which  he  hath 
promised  to  them  that  love  him?" — Follow 
Him.  He  will  lead  you  in  another  direction. 
Go  through  yonder  village;  mingle  with  the 
poor  and  needy.  Their  necessities  have  com- 
pelled them  to  seek  relief  and  solace  in  reli- 
gion ;  and  they  have  found  them  there.  Enter 
that  cottage  : — "  The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  of 
salvation  is  in  the  tabernacle  of  the  righteous." 
"  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is, 
than  a  stalled  ox  with  hatred  and  strife."  "A 
little  that  a  righteous  man  hath,  is  better  than 
the  riches  of  many  wicked." — Enter  yonder 
sanctuary — the  common  people  hear  him  glad- 
ly. The  congregation  withdraws.  Observe 
those  who  approach  and  assemble  around  the 
table  of  the  Lord. — Ah  !  well  says  God,  in  the 
language  of  prophecy,  "  I  will  leave  in  the 
midst  of  thee  an  afflicted  and  poor  people,  and 
they  shall  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

II.  A  timid  disposition  conceals  many. 
A  bold  mind  will  soon  obtrude  a  man  into 
notice :  he  will  signalize  himself  by  his  for- 
wardness on  every  occasion ;  he  will  be  the 
first  to  speak,  the  first  to  act.  Eager  to'  en- 
gage in  every  public  duty,  and  always  talk- 
ing on  religious  themes,  many  will  remark 
him  as  a  lively  soul,  and  be  ready  to  say, 
"  Come,  behold  his  zeal  for  the  Lord  of 
Hosts." 


SERMON  L 


7 


We  will  not  deny  that  this  disposition  may 
sometimes  be  connected  with  sincerity ;  but 
instances  of  an  opposite  nature  are  much  more 
common)  and  a  mind  dealing  in  professions, 
and  fond  of  publicity,  is  generally  and  deserv- 
edly to  be  suspected.  Itnas  been  justly  ob- 
served, that  when  of  old  the  angels  descend- 
ed to  earth,  they  assumed  the  form  and  like- 
ness of  men  ;  but  when  Satan  appeared,  he 
transformed  himself  into  an  angel  of  light. — 
The  pretender  exceeds  the  real  character : 
the  actor  surpasses  nature,  and  goes  beyond 
life.  Where  a  man  regards  show  only,  he 
can  afford  to  be  more  expensive  and  magnifi- 
cent in  appearances  than  those  who  are  con- 
cerned for  the  reality.  Empty  vessels  sound 
louder  than  the  full.  Religion  runs  along  like 
a  river,  noiseless  in  proportion  as  it  is  deep. 

True  piety  affects  no  unnecessary  exposure : 
its  voice  is  not  heard  in  the  street;  it  does 
not  sound  a  trumpet  before  it ;  the  left  hand 
knows  not  what  the  right  hand  doeth.  It  ra- 
ther eludes  public  observation,  and  retires 
from  the  applause  of  the  multitude.  It  does 
not  act  to  be  seen  of  men,  or  to  "  make  a  fair 
shew  in  the  flesh."  The  Christian  is  more 
concerned  to  be  good,  than  to  appear  so.  His 
religion  is  commonly  attended  with  difRdence 
and  self-suspicion — he  hides  his  feelings,  and 
makes  many  anxious  inquiries  before  he  can 
venture  to  say,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
fear  God,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  he  hath 
done  for  my  soul."  Baxter,  speaking  of  Lord 
Chief-Justice  Hale,  tells  us,  that  he  had  once 
entertained  fears  lest  he  had  been  too  little 
for  the  experimental  part  of  religion,  such  as 
prayer,  and  meditation,  and  spiritual  conflict; 
because  he  had  seldom  mentioned  such  sub- 
jects in  relation  to  his  own  feelings.  But  he 
found  afterwards  that  this  reluctance  arose 
from  his  averseness  to  hypocrisy,  of  which  in 
his  day  he  had  seen  so  many  instances. 

It  is  our  duty  to  make  a  profession  of  reli- 
gion, and  unite  ourselves  with  some  body  of 
Christians,  to  walk  in  the  faith  and  order  of 
the  Gospel.  But  we  should  do  wrong  to  con- 
demn all  those  who  decline  it.  Many  are  held 
back  for  a  considerable  time  by  painful  appre- 
hensions. Jealous  over  their  own  hearts,  and 
concerned  lest  they  should  be  found  deceivers 
at  last,  they  dare  not  come  forward,  and  ven- 
ture on  so  serious  an  act,  as  by  a  public  sur- 
render to  join  themselves  to  the  Church  of  the 
living  God ;  and  it  is  to  be  lamented,  that  in 
many  cases  this  timidity  is  increased  by  the  se- 
vere, unscriptural  methods  of  admitting  people 
to  the  table  of  the  Lord.  In  the  great  day, 
when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  are  made  mani- 
fest, we  shall  see  many  a  secret,  silent,  unob- 
served follower  exalted  to  the  right  hand; 
while  many  a  noisy  professor  of  religion  will 
be  thrust  down  to  hell,  for  want  of  that  truth 
and  sincerity  which  are  essentially  necessary 
to  the  Christian  character  and  to  all  accepta- 
ble worship. 


To  tills  we  may  add  another  apprehension. 
We  see  it  exemplified  in  Nicodeinus — who 
"  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  for  fear  of  the  Jews." 
Had  many  seen  him  at  the  commencement  of 
his  religious  course,  they  would  have  con- 
demned him ;  nevertheless  he  gave  at  last  the 
clearest  proof  of  his  attachment  by  coming  for- 
ward, when  his  own  disciples  forsook  him,  and 
acknowledging  a  suffering  Redeemer.  Many 
may  be  in  similar  circumstances :  repressed 
and  concealed  for  a  time  by  the  influence 
of  their  situations  and  connexions.  We  do 
not  praise  them  for  this. — It  is  their  duty  un- 
questionably "  to  go  forth  to  him  without  the 
camp  bearing  his  reproach."  We  only  state 
a  fact  which  has  a  bearing  on  our  subject. 

III.  The  manner  in  which  some  of  the  peo- 
ple of  God  are  called  by  divine  grace,  ren- 
ders them  observable.  I  hope  1  need  not 
prove,  that  in  order  to  the  existence  of  genu- 
ine religion  in  the  soul,  there  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary a  change  which  will  embody  the  vari- 
ous representations  given  of  it  in  the  Scrip- 
tures— "  Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become 
as  little  children,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  in- 
to the  kingdom  of  heaven" — "  Ye  must  be 
born  again." — "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is 
a  new  creature  ;  old  things  are  passed  away, 
and  behold  all  things  are  become  new." — In 
such  awful  and  decisive  terms  do  the  sacred 
penmen  speak  of  the  renovation  of  our  nature 
as  essential  to  our  happiness  and  our  hope. — 
And  this  change  in  all  the  subjects  of  divine 
grace  is  equally  real — but  it  is  not  equally 
perceptible  either  to  themselves  or  others. — 
When  a  man  is  suddenly  stopped  in  his  mad 
career,  and  turned  from  a  notorious  and  profli- 
gate course  of  life — when  the  drunkard  be- 
comes sober,  the  swearer  learns  to  fear  an 
oath,  and  the  sabbath-breaker  goes  with  the 
multitude  to  keep  holy  day — all  must  take 
knowledge  of  him.  The  effect  is  striking ; 
the  world  wonders ;  and  the  Church  exclaims, 
"  Who  hath  begotton  me  these !  these,  where 
had  they  been  !" — But  the  work  is  not  always 
so  distinguishable.  When  the  subject  of  it 
is  moral ;  blessed  with  a  pious  education ; 
trained  up  under  the  means  of  grace;  the 
change  is  much  less  visible.  He  avoids  the 
same  vices  as  before  ;  performs  the  same  du- 
ties as  before ;  only  from  other  principles  and 
motives,  with  other  views  and  dispositions — 
but  these  fall  not  under  our  observation. 

Many  are  prone  to  look  for  a  conversion, 
always  uniform,  not  only  in  its  effects  but  in  its 
operation ;  and  also  too  much  bordering  on  the 
miraculous.  The  soul  must  be  exceedingly  ter- 
rified with  fear — then  overwhelmed  with  an- 
guish— then  plunged  into  despair — then  sud- 
denly filled  with  hope,  and  peace,  and  joy ;  and 
the  person  must  be  able  to  determine  the  day  on 
which,  the  sermon  under  which,  or  the  pro- 
vidence by  which  the  change  was  wrought. 
But  this  is  by  no  means  necessarily,  or  gene- 
rally, the  case.    There  is  a  variety  in  the 


SERMON  I. 


temperaments  and  habits  of  men ;  and  in  the 
methods  employed  to  bring  them  to  repent- 
ance. And  we  should  remember  that  there  are 
"differences  of  administration,  but  the  same 
Lord"' — that  often  he  prefers  to  the  earth- 
quake, the  wind,  and  the  tire,  the  small  still 
voice — that  he  can  draw  by  the  cords  of  love 
and  the  bands  of  a  man — that  he  can  work  as 
effectually  by  slow,  as  by  instantaneous  exer- 
tion— and  that  he  can  change  the  soul  in  a 
manner  so  gradual  and  mild,  as  to  be  scarcely 
discernible  to  any  but  the  glorious  Author. — 
And  here,  my  brethren,  we  are  furnished  with 
evidence  from  analogy.  In  nature,  some  of 
God's  works  insensibly  issue  in  others ;  and  it 
is  impossible  for  us  to  draw  the  line  of  distinc- 
tion between  them.  "  The  path  of  the  just  is 
as  a  shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day."  But  who  can 
ascertain  which  ray  begins,  or  which  ends  the 
dawn ! — If  you  are  unable  to  trace  the  pro- 
cess of  the  divine  life,  judge  by  the  result. — 
When  you  perceive  the  effects  of  conversion, 
never  question  the  cause.  And  if  perplexed 
by  a  number  of  circumstantial  inquiries,  be 
satisfied  if  you  are  able  to  say,  "  One  thing 
I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see." 

IV.  The  difference  of  opinion  which 
prevails  among  Christians  has  frequently  oc- 
casioned a  diminution  of  their  number.  In- 
deed the  readiest  way  in  the  world  to  thin 
heaven,  and  replenish  the  regions  of  hell,  is  to 
call  in  the  spirit  of  bigotry.  This  will  imme- 
diately arraign,  and  condemn,  and  execute 
all  that  do  not  bow  down,  and  worship  the 
image  of  our  idolatry.  Possessing  exclusive 
prerogative,  it  rejects  every  other  claim — 
"  Stand  by,  I  am '  sounder'  than  thou."  "  The 
temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord, 
the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  we !"  How  many 
of  the  dead  has  this  intolerance  sentenced  to 
eternal  misery,  who  will  shine  for  ever  as  the 
stars  in  the  kingdom  of  our  Father !  How 
many  living  characters  does  it  reprobate  as 
enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  who  are  plac- 
ing in  it  all  their  glory  !  No  wonder  if,  under 
the  influence  of  this  censorious  zeal,  we  form 
lessening  views  of  the  number  of  the  saved. 
"  I  only  am  left." — Yes ;  they  are  few  indeed, 
if  none  belong  to  them  that  do  not  belong  to 
your  party — that  do  not  see  with  your  eyes — 
that  do  not  believe  election  with  you,  or  uni- 
versal redemption  with  you — that  do  not 
worship  under  a  steeple  with  you,  or  in  a 
meeting  with  you — that  are  not  dipped  with 
you,  or  sprinkled  with  you. — But  hereafter 
we  shall  find  that  the  righteous  were  not  so 
circumscribed,  when  we  shall  see  "  many 
coming  from  the  east,  and  from  the  west, 
from  the  north,  and  from  the  south,  to  sit 
down  with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven." 

Do  I  plead  for  an  excessive  candour? — 
The  candour  which  regards  all  sentiments 
alike,  and  considers  no  errors  as  destructive, 


is  no  virtue.  It  is  the  offspring  of  ignorance, 
of  insensibility,  and  of  cold  indiflerence.  The 
blind  do  not  perceive  the  difference  of  colours. 
The  dead  never  dispute.  Ice,  as  it  congeals, 
aggregates  all  bodies  within  its  reach,  how- 
ever heterogeneouslheir  quality.  Every  vir- 
tue has  certain  bounds,  and  when  it  exceeds 
them  it  becomes  a  vice  ;  for  the  last  step  of 
a  virtue,  and  the  first  step  of  a  vice,  are  con- 
tiguous. 

— But  surely  it  is  no  wildness  of  candour, 
that  leads  us  to  give  the  liberty  we  take ; 
that  suffers  a  man  to  think  for  himself,  un- 
awed ;  and  that  concludes  he  may  be  a  fol- 
lower of  God,  though  "  he  follow  not  with  us." 
Why  should  we  hesitate  to  consider  a  man 
a  Christian,  when  we  see  him  abhorring 
and  forsaking  sin ;  hungering  and  thirsting 
after  righteousness ;  diligent  in  approaching 
unto  God;  walking  "  in  newness  of  life,"  and 
discovering  a  spirituality  of  temper,  a  dispo- 
sition for  devotion,  a  deadness  to  the  world,  a 
benevolence,  a  liberality,  such  as  we  seldom 
find  in  those  high-toned  doctrinalists  who  re- 
gard themselves  as  the  only  advocates  for  free 
grace  ! — And  by  the  way,  it  is  not  a  system 
of  notions,  however  good,  or  a  judgment  in  di- 
vine things  however  clear,  that  will  consti- 
tute a  Christian. — It  is  a  transformation  by  the 
renewing  of  the  mind.  It  is  a  "  putting  off 
the  old  man  with  his  deeds,  and  putting  on  the 
new  man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righ- 
teousness and  true  holiness."  It  is  "  walking 
even  as  he  walked."  "  If  any  man  have  not 
the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his." 

And  to  pass  to  the  opposite  side :  we  should 
also  remember,  that  men  do  not  always  live 
according  to  the  natural  tendency  and  conse- 
quences of  their  creed.  Some  hold  sentiments 
very  injurious  to  holiness  who  are  not  wicked 
men :  their  hearts  are  better  than  their  opin- 
ions ;  their  principles  give  their  consciences  a 
liberty  to  sin  which  they  refuse  to  take ;  and 
their  practice  is  adorned  with  good  works, 
which  their  system  by  no  means  requires.  No 
one  can  imagine  that  I  mention  this  with  a 
view  to  countenance  or  palliate  the  adoption 
of  such  sentiments.  They  blaspheme  every 
line  in  the  Bible  ;  and  are  always  injurious  in 
a  degree :  but  where  they  happen  to  fall  in 
with  a  love  of  sin,  the  effect  is  dreadful. 
Where  such  a  poisonous  infusion  is  imbibed, 
and  not  counteracted  by  a  singular  potency  of 
constitution,  the  consequence  is  certain  death. 

V.  Many  are  excluded  from  the  number 
ofthe  righteous  by  practical  imperfections. 
There  is  a  blemish  in  every  duty ;  a  deficien- 
cy in  every  grace  ;  a  mixture  in  every  cha- 
racter :  and  if  none  are  to  be  considered  as 
the  people  of  God,  who  are  not  free  from  in- 
firmity, you  will  easily  be  induced  to  take  up 
the  language — "  I  am  left  alone." — For  who 
can  say,  "  I  have  made  my  heart  clean,  I  am 
pure  from  my  sin :"  "  I  have  attained,  I  am 
already  perfect  1"  The  best  of  men  are  but 


SERMON  I. 


9 


men  at  the  best.—"  I  am  left  alone  f — Nay, 
Elijah,  in  this  sense  even  you  are  not  left. 
Even  you  are  "  a  man  of  like  passions  as  we 
are."  With  all  your  miraculous  endowments 
and  religious  attainments,  you  discovered  the 
same  natural  feelings,  the  same  moral  defects. 
You  feared  Jezebel — fled  dismayed  from  your 
work — impatiently  demanded  to  die — and 
drew  a  very  erroneous  and  unworthy  conclu- 
sion respecting  the  true  worshippers  of  God. 
Yea,  there  never  was  one  left:  for  to  which 
of  the  saints  will  you  turn  1  To  Abraham  ? — 
he  denies  his  wife  in  Egypt  and  in  Gerar. 
To  Moses  1 — he  spake  "  unadvisedly  with  his 
lips."  To  Job  1 — he  curses  the  day  of  his  birth. 
To  Peter  1 — he  abjures  his  Lord. — I  know  I 
tread  on  dangerous  ground.  The  Antinomi- 
an  drunkard  may  call  in  Noah  as  his  example  ; 
and  the  unclean,  who  turn  the  grace  of  God 
into  lasciviousness,  may  plead  the  adultery  of 
David.  They  may  hope  where  they  should 
fear ;  take  for  encouragement  what  was  only 
given  for  caution  ;  and  resemble  those  in  their 
fall,  whose  repentance  they  will  never  imi- 
tate.— And  "  thinkestthou,  O  man,  who  doest 
such  things,  to  escape  the  judgment  of  God  !" 
— Instead  of  raising  thee  up  like  these  restor- 
ed penitents  asa  monument  of  mercy  to  future 
generations,  he  will  harden  thee  into  a  pillar 
of  salt. 

God  forbid  we  should  plead  for  sin ;  but  let 
us  not  shun  to  declare  a  truth  for  fear  of  a 
possible  abuse  of  it.  Severe  in  judging  our- 
selves, let  us  endeavour  to  judge  favourably 
of  others,  and  place  before  our  minds  every 
consideration  tending  to  aid  that  charity 
which  "  thinketh  no  evil,  believing  all  things, 
hoping  all  things,  enduring  all  things." — 
That  we  are  to  learn  of  One,  who  will  not 
break  a  bruised  reed,  or  quench  the  smoking 
flax,  till  he  bring  forth  judgment  unto  victory. 
— That  there  is  a  day  of  small  things,  which 
we  are  not  to  despise. — That  grace  corrects, 
but  does  not  eradicate  nature ;  subdues,  but 
does  not  extinguish  the  passions ;  forms  us 
Christians,  but  leaves  us  men. — That  there 
are  inequalities  among  the  righteous ;  that  the 
good  ground  yielded  in  varied  proportions, 
some  a  hundred  fold,  some  sixty,  some  thirty. 
— That  a  prevailing  holy  disposition  may  fail 
in  a  particular  instance,  and  that  a  single  ac- 
tion is  not  to  be  pleaded  against  a  long-continu- 
ed practice. — That  persons  who  would  abandon 
an  unlawful  pursuit,  the  moment  they  are 
convinced  of  its  impropriety,  may  continue  in 
it  for  a  time,  for  want  of  knowledge  or  reflec- 
tion.— That  as  we  entertain  a  confidence  in 
our  own  salvation,  though  conscious  of  num- 
berless imperfections,  we  should  not  require 
perfection  in  others. — That  our  failures, 
though  not  as  gross,  may  be  as  guilty  as  those 
of  our  brethren — and,  that  we  may  sometimes 
entertain  a  hope  which  we  are  afraid  to  pub- 
lish ;  and  believe  that  some  are  in  the  way  to 


heaven,  whose  safe  arrival  tnere,  we  trust, 
will  never  be  known  in  this  world. 

My  brethren,  in  our  application  of  this  sub- 
ject, let  us  first  remark  the  use  the  Apostle 
makes  of  it.  "  Even  so  then,  at  this  present 
time  also,  there  is  a  remnant  according  to  the 
election  of  grace." — God  never  leaves  him- 
self without  witness.  He  has  always  instru- 
ments to  carry  on  his  cause,  and  a  people  to 
shew  forth  his  praise.  These  are  the  pillars 
of  a  state  to  keep  it  from  falling— the  salt  of 
the  earth  to  preserve  it  from  corruption — the 
light  of  the  world  to  secure  it  from  darkness: 
and  as  Esaias  said  before,  "  Except  the  Lord 
of  Sabaoth  had  left  us  a  seed,  we  had  been 
as  Sodom,  and  been  made  like  unto  Gomor- 
rah."— Relinquish  diminishing  ideas  of  the  Di- 
vine goodness;  "his  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works." — Look  back  toCalvary,  and  see  Jesus 
bearing  the  sins  of  many  ;  see  him  rising 
from  the  dead  to  receive  "  the  heathen  for  his 
inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth  for  his  possession."  "  The  pleasure  of 
the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  his  hand."  "  He 
shall  see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall 
be  satisfied." — Look  forward,  and  behold  "  a 
great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number, 
of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and 
tongues." — Behold  even  now  "the  Captain 
of  your  salvation"  "  bringing  many  sons  unto 
glory," — and  no  longer  imagine  that  there  is 
any  danger  of  your  being  "  left  alone."  Re- 
joice, ye  friends  and  followers  of  the  lamb ; 
you  belong  to  no  small  family — you  do  not  ap- 
proach the  throne  of  grace  alone — you  are  not 
alone  in  your  hopes  and  in  your  pleasures — 
you  are  not  alone  in  your  struggles,  groans, 
and  tears. — Far  more  than  you  have  appre- 
hended are  on  "  The  Lord's  side,"  attached 
to  the  same  Saviour,  travelling  the  same  road, 
heirs  of  the  same  "grace  of  life." 

Secondly.  Are  you  of  the  number  1  It  is 
of  little  importance  for  you  to  know  that  many 
will  enter  in,  if  you  are  excluded.  "  There 
shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth,  when 
ye  shall  see  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
and  all  the  prophets,  in  the  kingdom  of  God, 
and  you  yourselves  thrust  out."  As  you  all 
hope  to  escape  this  dreadful  doom,  it  behoves 
you  to  examine  whether  your  confidence  be 
well  founded,  and  whether,  living  as  you  live, 
the  Scripture  justifies  your  hope  of  heaven 
when  you  die. — Who  then,  you  ask,  will  be 
saved?  Those  who  live  in  the  world,  and  are 
not  like  it.  Those  who  "have  no  fellowship 
with  the  unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  but  ra- 
ther reprove  them."  Those  who  are  "a  pe- 
culiar people,  zealous  of  good  works."  It  is 
the  character  here  given  them :  "  I  have  re- 
served to  myself  seven  thousand  men,  who 
have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  the  image  of 
baal."  And  this  was  the  reigning  sin.  The 
court,  the  city,  the  country,  all  followed  Baal ; 
his  worship  was  universal.    My  brethren,  the 


II) 


SERMON  II. 


best  evidence  you  can  give  of  your  integrity, 
is  freedom  from  the  prevailing,  fashionable 
vices  and  follies  of  the  times  and  places  in 
which  you  live.  A  dead  fish  can  swim  with 
the  stream,  but  a  live  one  only  can  swim 
against  it. 

The  influence  of  one  man  over  another  is 
truly  wonderful.  The  individual  is  upright; 
his  connexions  give  him  all  his  wrong  bias. 
Alone,  he  forms  good  resolutions;  when  he 
enters  the  world  they  are  broken.  1 1  is  not  igno- 
rance, but  a  cowardly  shame  that  keeps  many 
in  a  state  of  indecision,  "  halting  between  two 
opinions."  They  know  what  is  right,  and 
would  gladly  partake  of  the  believer's  safety ; 
but  they  have  not  fortitude  enough  to  encoun- 
ter the  reproach,  which,  in  one  form  or  ano- 
ther, always  attends  an  adherence  to  the  cause 
of  Christ.  Others,  who  had  made  some  pleas- 
ing progress,  have  been  easily  deprived  by  a 
name,  a  laugh,  a  sneer,  of  all  their  religion. — 
Not  to  "bow  the  knee  to  Baal,"  when  all 
adore  him — to  step  forth  with  our  family  be- 
hind us,  and  say  to  our  neighbours  and  our  re- 
lations, "  Choose  you  this  day  whom  ye  will 
serve,  but  as  for  me  and  my  house  we  will 
serve  the  Lord" — to  withstand  in  a  pious 
cause  the  influence  of  example — to  keep  our 
way  when  we  see  an  adverse  multitude  ap- 
proaching us — to  pass  through  the  midst,  un- 
shrinking while  we  feel  the  scourge  of  the 
tongue — this  is  no  easy  thing.  This  is  prin- 
ciple in  triumph.  And  this  Christian  heroism 
is  not  only  commendable,  but  necessary.  Do 
not  say  therefore,  if  we  do  this,  we  shall  be 
singular.  If  you  are  Christians,  you  must  be 
singular :  it  is  the  grand  design,  the  unavoid- 
able consequence  of  the  Gospel.  Read  the 
character  of  its  followers :  "  Ye  are  not  of  the 
world,  even  as  I  am  not  of  the  world." — Exa- 
mine its  commands :  "  Be  not  conformed  to 
this  world,  but  be  ye  transformed  by  the  re- 
newing of  your  mind." — Weigh  the  condition 
of  its  dignities  and  privileges:  "Come  out 
from  among  them,  and  be  ye  separate,  and 
touch  not  the  unclean  thing ;  and  I  will  re- 
ceive you,  and  be  a  Father  unto  you,  and  ye 
shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters,  saith  the 
Lord  Almighty." — My  dear  hearers,  the  lan- 
guage is  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood ;  the 
meaning  is  too  awful  to  be  trifled  with.  De- 
cide ;  and  decide  immediately.  "  Withdraw 
yourselves  from  these  men"  before  a  common 
perdition  involves  you  all.  If  with  them  you 
will  sin,  with  them  you  must  suffer.  They 
who  followed  the  multitude  rather  than  Noah, 
were  drowned  in  the  Flood.  They  who  fol- 
lowed the  multitude  rather  than  Lot,  were 
destroyed  in  the  cities  of  the  plain.  They 
who  followed  the  multitude  rather  than  Joshua 
and  Caleb,  perished  in  the  wilderness !  And  as 
it  was  then,  so  it  is  now — "  As  for  such  as 
turn  aside  to  their  crooked  ways,  the  Lord 
will  lead  them  forth  with  the  workers  of  ini- 
quity." 


Thirdly.  Let  those  who  havo  been  "  re- 
served," consider  the  Author  and  the  End  of 
their  distinction. 

— Remember  by  whom  you  have  been  se- 
cured. God  is  the  Author — hence  he  says, 
"  I  have  reserved."  "  For  who  makcth  thee 
to  differ  from  another  1  and  what  hast  thou 
that  thou  didst  not  receive1!"  Had  you  been 
left  to  yourselves,  and  "  given  up  to  your  own 
counsel,"  you  would  have  been  carried  along 
by  the  same  depraved  tendency,  "  according 
to  the  course  of  this  world."  But  his  grace, 
equally  free  and  powerful,  interposed  in  your 
favour ;  it  gave  to  ordinances  their  efficacy, 
and  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence  their 
sanctifying  influence,  in  turning  the  mind  and 
restraining  the  life  from  sin :  and,  boasting 
excluded,  you  are  indulging  yourselves  in 
language  used  by  all  the  redeemed  before  you 
— "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but 
unto  thy  Name  be  glory,  for  thy  mercy  and 
for  thy  truth's  sake."  "  By  the  grace  of  God 
I  am  what  I  am :  not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God 
which  was  with  me." 

— Remember  also  for  whom  you  have  been 
secured.  God  is  the  end — hence  he  says,  "I 
have  reserved  unto  myself. — They  are  to  be 
representatives  on  earth,  to  wear  my  image, 
to  maintain  my  cause,  to  be  employed  in  my 
service.  This  people  have  I  formed  for  my- 
self, they  shall  shew  forth  my  praise, — They 
shall  be  called  trees  of  righteousness,  the  plant- 
ing of  the  Lord,  that  he  may  be  glorified.  The 
Lord  hath  set  apart  him  that  is  godly  for 
himself." — Christians — it  is  a  high,  an  awful 
destiny.  It  sheds  a  sacredness  over  the  whole 
character,  which  you  should  always  feel.  It 
hallows  you.  It  consecrates  your  persons, 
and  your  possessions.  All  you  have,  all  you 
are,  is  his — all  is  for  him.  This  end  deter- 
mines, and  simplifies  your  work.  To  this 
you  are  to  make  every  thing  subordinate,  and 
subservient.  "  Whether,  therefore,  ye  eat  or 
drink,  or  whatever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory 
of  God.  For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  to  himself  '.  for  whether 
we  live,  we  live  unto  the  lord,  or  whe- 
ther we  die,  we  die  unto  the  lord  :  whe- 
ther therefore  we  live  or  die,  we  are 
the  Lord's." 


SERMON  II. 


THE  NATURE  OF  GENUINE  RELI- 
GION. 

J  will  give  them  one  heart,  and  I  will  put  a  neio 
spirit  within  you  ;  and  I  will  take  the  stony 
heart  out  of  their  flesh,  and  will  give  them  an 
heart  of  jlesh :  that  they  may  walk  in  my 
statutes,  and  keep  mine  ordinances,  and  do 
them  :  and  they  shall  be  my  people,  and  I 
will  be  their  God. — Ezekiel  xi.  19,  20. 

"  The  works  of  the  Lord  are  great,  sought 
out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein." 


SERMON  II. 


11 


It  is  pleasing1  to  observe  Hiin  as  the  God  of 
nature,  "  renewing  the  face  of  the  earth ;" 
"crowning  the  year  with  his  goodness;" 
"  opening  his  hand,  and  satisfying  the  desire 
of  every  living  thing."  It  is  edifying  to  trace 
Him  as  the  God  of  Providence,  "  fixing  the 
bounds  of  our  habitation ;"  assigning  every 
man  his  station ;  qualifying  individuals  for  the 
sphere  in  which  they  move ;  and  sometimes 
"  raising  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lift- 
ing the  needy  out  of  the  dunghill,  that  He 
may  set  him  with  princes,  even  with  the 
princes  of  his  people." — But  it  is  much  more 
pleasing  and  edifying  to  contemplate  Him  as 
the  God  of  all  grace.  Here  "  He  excelleth 
in  glory."  Here  "  He  spares  not  his  own 
Son,  but  delivers  him  up  for  us  all."  Here 
"  He  saves  us  by  the  washing  of  regenera- 
tion, and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  he  sheds  on  us  abundantly  through  Je- 
sus Christ  our  Saviour."  Here  we  behold 
Him,  from  the  ruins  of  the  Fall,  making  the 
sinner  "an  eternal  excellency,  the  joy  of  ma- 
ny generations." 

All  this  "  purpose  and  grace"  He  has  giv- 
en us  in  a  way  of  promise.  And  of  all  the 
promises  with  which  the  Scripture  abounds, 
no  one  is  more  important  than  the  words 
which  we  have  read — "  I  will  give  them  one 
heart,  and  I  will  put  a  new  spirit  within  you ; 
and  I  will  take  the  stony  heart  out  of  their 
flesh,  and  will  give  them  an  heart  of  flesh  : 
that  they  may  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  keep 
mine  ordinances,  and  do  them :  and  they  shall 
be  my  people,  and  I  will  be  their  God." 

Behold  a  full  representation  of  a  subject 
which  deserves  all  your  regard !  See  genu- 
ine religion  developed  in  four  essential  arti- 
cles.— I.  Its  Author.  II.  The  disposition 
it  produces.  III.  The  obedience  it  demands. 
IV.  The  blessedness  it  ensures. 

I.  Observe,  my  brethren,  how  expressly 
God  appropriates  this  work  to  himself.  "  I 
will  give  them  one  heart,  and  I  will  put  a 
new  spirit  within  you" — and  so  of  all  the  rest. 
Real  religion  is  of  a  divine  original :  it  never 
would  have  had  an  existence  in  the  world 
without  the  revelation  of  God;  and  it  will 
never  have  an  existence  in  the  soul  without 
the  operation  of  God. — There  is  indeed  some 
difficulty  attending  the  discussion  of  this  sub- 
ject. The  more  spiritual  any  work  of  God  is, 
the  more  remote  will  it  necessarily  be  found 
from  human  comprehension.  Our  Saviour 
compares  this  influence  to  the  agency  of  the 
wind ;  which,  of  all  the  phenomena  of  nature, 
is  the  least  apprehensible  in  its  essence,  and 
the  most  sensible  in  its  effects.  "  The  wind 
bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth :  so  is  every  one 
that  is  born  of  fhe  Spirit."  The  doctrine  has 
also  been  much  abused.  It  has  often  been  so 
managed,  as  to  make  the  sinner,  while  in  his 
natural  state,  to  appear  unfortunate  rather 


than  criminal ;  and  to  render  the  use  of  means 
and  exertions  needless. — The  sacred  writers 
do  not  inform  us  "where  precisely  diligence 
and  dependence  unite,  or  how  they  blend 
through  the  whole  course  of  the  Christian 
life;  but  they  assure  us  of  the  reality  and  the 
constancy  of  their  union :  they  inform  us  that 
there  is  no  inconsistency  between  the  com- 
mand and  the  promise ;  that  it  is  our  duty,  as 
well  as  privilege,  to  "be  filled  with  the  Spi- 
rit ;"  and  that  we  are  to  "  work  out  our  own 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling ;  for  it  is 
God  that  worketh  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of 
his  own  good  pleasure." 

This  being  premised,  we  proceed  to  esta- 
blish the  doctrine  we  have  advanced.  And 
the  proof  is  by  no  means  difficult.  It  is  as 
simple  and  obvious,  as  it  is  convincing.  For  if 
"all  things  are  of  God,"  is  religion  to  be  ex- 
cluded! and  to  form  the  only  exception? 
Does  "  the  river  of  the  water  of  life"  spring 
from  a  source  on  this  side  "  the  throne  of  God 
and  of  the  Lamb?"  If  in  Him  we  live,  and 
move,  " and  have  our"  natural  "being;"  do 
we  derive  from  an  inferior  principle  our  spi- 
ritual life? — a  life  sublimely  called  "the 
life  of  God  ?"  If  the  discoveries  which  furnish 
us  with  the  accommodations  and  conven- 
iences of  human  life — if  the  skill  of  the  hus- 
bandman, and  the  wisdom  of  the  mechanic — 
be  in  Scripture  ascribed  to  His  influence; 
who  gives  us  the  genius  to  live  divinely,  and 
to  have  "our  conversation  in  heaven?" 

The  expressions,  "  to  be  born  again ;"  to  be 
made  "  a  new  creature ;"  to  be  "  raised  from 
the  dead,"  applied  to  the  subjects  of  divine 
grace,  are  allowed  to  be  metaphorical ;  but 
they  are  designed  to  convey  a  truth ;  and  to 
teach  us,  not  only  the  greatness  of  the  change, 
but  also  the  Author  of  it.  If  religion  were  a 
human  production,  it  would  wear  the  resem- 
blance of  man ;  it  would  not  be  the  reverse 
of  all  he  now  is.  After  what  the  Scripture 
has  said  respecting  the  total  depravity  of  hu- 
man nature,  and  which,  by  experience  and  ob- 
servation, we  observe  every  day  to  be  true  in 
fact ;  nothing  can  be  more  wonderful  than  to 
find  any  of  the  children  of  men  possessing 
true  holiness.  The  question  then  is,  how  it 
came  there  ?  It  could  not  spring  from  them- 
selves ;  for  "  who  can  bring  a  clean  thing  out 
of  an  unclean?"  No  effect  can  exceed  its 
cause ;  and  an  inadequate  cause  is  no  cause. 
Whence  then  does  it  proceed  ? — "  To  the  law 
and  to  the  testimony."  The  Scripture  as- 
sures us  it  is  the  work  of  God ;  and  leads  us 
to  trace  back  the  grand  whole,  and  the  sepa- 
rate parts ;  the  perfection,  the  progress,  the 
commencement — of  religion  in  the  soul,  to  a 
divine  agency. — "  Who  are  born,  not  of 
blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the 
will  of  man,  but  of  God."  "He  that  hath 
wrought  us  for  the  self-same  thing  is  God, 
who  hath  also  given  unto  us  the  earnest  of 
the  Spirit."  "  By  grace  are  ye  saved,  through 


12 


SERMON  II. 


faith ;  and  that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift 
of  God :  not  of  works,  lest  any  man  should 
boast:  for  we  are  his  workmanship,  created 
in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God 
hath  before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in 
them." 

Nor  is  this  a  curious,  or  a  useless  specula- 
tion. The  importance  of  it  equals  the  evi- 
dence. To  know  things  in  their  causes,  has 
been  deemed  the  highest  kind  of  knowledge : 
to  know  salvation  in  its  source,  is  indispensa- 
ble. First,  it  is  necessary,  to  guide  and  to 
encourage  the  concern  of  awakened  sinners, 
who  are  asking,  "  Men  and  brethren,  what 
shall  we  do  J"  Such  persons  will  not  cheer- 
fully and  courageously  enter  on  a  course  of 
godliness,  without  an  assurance  of  effectual 
aid.  Seeing  so  many  difficulties  and  dangers 
before  them,  and  feeling  their  corruption  and 
weakness,  after  a  few  unsuccessful  struggles, 
they  will  sink  down  in  hopeless  despair;  un- 
less, under  a  sense  of  their  own  inability,  we 
can  exhibit  that  grace  which  is  sufficient  for 
them,  and  meet  them  with  the  promise; 
"  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you  ;  seek,  and 
ye  shall  tind ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you.  For  if  ye,  being  evil,  know  how 
to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how 
much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give 
his  holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him !"  This 
decides  :  this  animates.  "  The  grace  of  the 
promise  is  adequate  to  the  duty  of  the  com- 
mand. Does  the  work  to  which  I  am  called, 
look  fitter  for  an  angel,  than  for  a  man]  I 
have  more  than  an  angel's  resources;  my  suf- 
ficiency is  of  God.  Without  Him  I  can  do 
nothing;  but  through  his  strengthening  of  me 
I  can  do  all  things." — Secondly,  the  same 
discovery  is  necessary,  to  call  forth  the  ac- 
knowledgments, and  to  regulate  the  praises, 
of  those  who  are  sanctified  by  divine  grace. 
The  original  cause  determines  the  final  end. 
If  their  recovery  commence  from  themselves, 
it  may  terminate  in  themselves ;  and  being 
the  authors  of  the  cure,  they  may  lawfully 
appropriate  the  glory  arising  from  it.  But  the 
Gospel  assures  us,  that  God  has  completely 
excluded  boasting :  that  He  has  arranged  the 
whole  economy  of  our  salvation,  with  the  ex- 
press view  "  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his 
presence."  And  an  experience  of  divine 
truth  delivers  a  man  from  that  ignorance  and 
pride,  which  once  led  him  to  think  of  being 
his  own  saviour  :  he  feels,  that  "  by  the  grace 
of  God,  he  is  what  he  is :"  and  thus  he  is  re- 
duced again  to  the  proper  condition  of  a  crea- 
ture— lives  a  life  of  dependence  and  of  praise 
— and  acknowledges  his  obligations  to  "  Him, 
of  whom,  and  through  whom,  and  to  whom 
are  all  things."  We  have  seen  the  origin 
of  religion.  Behold, 

II.  The  disposition  which  it  produces. — 
It  is  characterized  three  ways.  "  I  will  give 
them  one  heart,  and  I  will  put  a  new  spi- 
rit within  you;  and  I  will  take  the  stony 


heart  out  of  their  flesh,  and  will  give  them  an 
heart  of  flesh." 

First,  He  promises  to  give  them  one  heart : 
and  this  shews  the  sameness  of  religion,  as  to 
the  leading  views,  sentiments,  and  pursuits 
of  its  possessors.  Of  the  converts  at  Jerusa- 
lem, it  is  said  "  The  multitude  of  them  that 
believed  were  of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul." 
Feeling  the  same  wants,  and  attracted  to  the 
same  Source  of  relief,  they  assembled  and 
blended  together :  they  had  many  hearts  be- 
fore: they  "followed  divers  lusts  and  plea- 
sures;" they  "turned  every  man  to  his  own 
way."  From  these  various  wanderings,  they 
are  called  to  enter,  and  to  travel  the  same 
way — Grace  produced  a  unity  ;  and  a  unity  it 
always  will  produce.  But  a  unity  of  what  1 — 
Of  opinions?  Of  forms  nnd  ceremonies'!  Of 
dress  and  phraseology  ?  No:  but  of  something 
infinitely  superior — a  oneness  of  reliance — of 
inclination — of  tastn — of  hopes  and  fears — of 
joys  and  sorrows.  Though  divided  and  distin- 
guished from  each  other  by  a  thousand  pecu- 
liarities, they  all  hate  sin  ;  they  all  "  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness ;"  they  "  all  fol- 
low hard  after  God ;"  they  all  feel  the  spi- 
ritual life  to  be  a  warfare  ;  they  all  "  confess 
themselves  to  be  strangers  and  pilgrims  upon 
earth." — Thus  with  circumstantial  diversity 
we  have  essential  identity ;  the  substance  as 
unalterable,  as  the  modes  are  various;  the 
dress  changing  with  times  and  places ;  the 
figure,  the  members,  the  soul,  always  the 
same.  "  By  one  Spirit,  we  are  all  baptized 
into  one  body ;  whether  we  be  Jews  or  Gen- 
tiles, whether  we  be  bond  or  free ;  and  have 
been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  Spirit." — He 
engages  also  to  produce, 

Secondly,  a  new  spirit.  "  And  I  will  put 
a  new  spirit  within  you."  Not  only  a  spirit 
different  from  that  which  still  animates  others, 
but  distinguished  from  that  which  once  influ- 
enced them.  For  it  was  not  born  with  them : 
they  were  once  strangers  to  it — but  designed 
for  a  new  world,  new  work,  new  pleasures,  it 
was  necessary  for  them  to  have  a  new  spirit. 
Elevation  will  only  serve  to  embarrass  and  en- 
cumber a  man,  unless  he  be  suited  to  it.  A 
king  may  advance  a  slave  to  a  station  of  emi- 
nence :  but,  with  a  change  of  condition,  he 
cannot  give  him  a  change  of  disposition ;  with 
his  new  office,  he  cannot  bestow  a  new  spirit. 
But,  in  this  manner,  the  Lord  qualifies  his 
people  for  their  situation  and  engagements: 
and  thus  they  are  at  home  in  them ;  there  is 
a  suitableness  productive  of  ease  and  enjoy- 
ment. 

This  is  the  peculiar  glory  of  the  Gospel. 
Observe  all  false  religions.  They  take  man 
as  he  is ;  they  accommodate  themselves  to  his 
errors  and  his  passions ;  they  leave  him  essen- 
tially the  same.  They  follow  the  man ;  they 
are  formed  after  his  likeness.  Whereas  here 
the  man  is  changed ;  he  is  modeled  after  the 
image  of  his  religion.   The  Gospel,  instead  of 


SERMON  II. 


13 


flattering,  tells  him  that  nothing  is  to  be  done 
while  he  remains  as  he  now  is — that,  in  his 
present  state,  he  is  incapable  of  performing 
its  duties  and  of  relishing  its  joys — that  he 
must  be  transformed,  or  he  "cannot enter  in- 
to the  kingdom  of  God."  And  what  it  indis- 
pensably requires,  it  provides  for,  and  secures : 
hence  all  is  order  and  harmony.  For,  every 
thing  in  the  sublime  dispensation  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  the  constitution  of  the  Christian 
Church,  is  new.  We  have  "  a  new  cove- 
nant." We  have  a  "  new  Jerusalem,  which 
is  the  mother  of  us  all."  "  We  approach 
God  by  a  new  and  living  way."  We  sing 
"a  new  song."  We  are  called  by  "a  new 
name."  According  to  his  promise,  we  look  for 
"  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwell- 
eth  righteousness."  "  He  that  sitteth  upon 
the  throne  saith,  Behold,  I  create  all  things 
new."  Do  you  wonder,  therefore,  my  bre- 
thren, that  we  are  required  to  "  put  off  the 
old  man  with  his  deeds;  and  to  put  on  the 
new  man:"  to  "  walk  in  newness  of  life:" 
to  serve  him  in  ."  newness  of  spirit,  and  not 
in  the  oldness  of  the  letter !" — that  we  are 
assured  that  "  neither  circumcision  availeth 
any  thing,  nor  uncircumcision,  but  a  new 
creature  !" — that  "  if  any  man  be  in  Christ, 
he  is  a  new  creature" — that  "old  things  are 
passed  away,  and,  behold,  all  things  are  be- 
come new  !" 

Thirdly,  He  gives  "them  an  heart  of 
flesh."  It  was  a  heart  of  "stone"  before. 
Take  a  stone — feel  it — how  cold  !  Strike  it — 
it  resists  the  blow.  Lay  upon  it  a  burden — 
it  feels  no  pressure.  Apply  to  it  a  seal — it 
receives  no  impression.  Such  were  your 
hearts  once ;  thus  cold,  impenetrable,  sense- 
less, unyielding,  and  unsusceptible.  What  a 
mercy  is  it  to  have  this  curse  removed,  and 
to  have  "  hearts  of  flesh  !" — to  be  able  to  feel ; 
to  feel  spiritually  ;  to  be  alive  to  "  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come  !"  to  be  no  longer  insen- 
sible to  divine  and  heavenly  things,  when 
they  come  in  contact  with  us ! 

And  remember,  Christians,  this  holy  sensi- 
bility is  evidenced  not  only  by  your  pleasing 
emotions,  but  also  by  your  distressing  ones. 
Your  tears  of  sorrow  indicate  spiritual  sensa- 
tion, as  well  as  your  tears  of  joy.  Is  not  pain 
a  proof  of  feeling? 

— Yes ;  the  Christian's  heart  is  a  "  heart 
of  flesh." 

— Bring  it  to  the  word  of  God — it  feels. 
"  My  heart,"  says  David,  "  standeth  in  awe 
of  thy  word."  "  He  trembles  at  His  word," 
says  Isaiah.  He  opens  it  with  reverence ;  he 
bows  to  its  authority ;  he  often  compares  him- 
self with  its  demands;  he  reads  the  character 
and  doom  of  apostates,  and  turns  pale;  he 
dreads  its  threatenings ;  he  longs  for  an  inte- 
rest in  its  promises!  O  how  many  feelings 
will  one  chapter  set  in  motion ! 

Bring  it  to  sin — it  feels.  A  tender  conscience, 
like  the  eye,  is  offended  with  a  mote.  A 
2 


dead  corpse  is  unaffected  with  the  deepest 
wound  ;  but  the  point  of  a  needle  makes  the 
living  body  to  writhe.  While  others  do  not 
groan,  though  charged  with  heinous  crimes, 
the  Christian  complains  even  of  infirmities, 
of  wandering  thoughts,  of  earthly  affections. 
A  look  from  his  offended  Lord  will  make  him 
"  go  out  and  weep  bitterly." 

Bring  it  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence 
— it  feels.  "  My  flesh  trembleth  for  fear  of 
thee,  and  I  am  afraid  of  thy  righteous  judg- 
ments." Or  does  he  prosper !  He  is  no  stran- 
ger to  a  fear  lest  "  his  table  should  become 
a  snare,  and  a  trap,  and  a  stumbling-block, 
and  a  recompense  unto  him." 

Bring  it  to  the  divine  glory — it  feels. 
"  Rivers  of  waters  run  down  mine  eyes,  be- 
cause men  keep  not  thy  law." 

Bring  it  to  the  concerns  of  others — it  feels. 
"  He  weeps  with  them  that  weep.  He  con- 
siders them  that  are  in  adversity,  as  bound 
with  them."  "  Who  is  weak,  and  he  is  not 
weak]  who  is  offended,  and  he  burns  not  V — 
For  a  tender  heart  is  always  accompanied 
with  a  tender  hand,  and  a  tender  tongue. 
Such  is  the  disposition  which  is  formed  in  all 
the  subjects  of  divine  grace :  and  why  is  it 
produced  1  To  enable  us  to  observe  the  whole 
revealed  will  of  God,  in  a  course  of  cheerful 
and  active  obedience.  This, 

III.  Brings  us  to  observe  the  practice  which 
religion  demands — "  That  they  may  walk  in 
my  statutes,  and  keep  mine  ordinances, 
and  do  them."  It  is  strange,  that  a  system  of 
religion  should  be  ever  advanced,  which,  if  it 
comprehends  obedience  and  good  works  at 
all,  places  them  in  a  very  inferior  situation  ; 
seems  always  afraid  to  bring  them  forward  ; 
dares  not  hold  them  forth  as  the  end  and  per- 
fection of  the  whole,  to  which  every  thing 
else  leads,  and  in  which  every  thing  else  is 
to  terminate — nor  insist  on  their  being  so  es- 
sentially necessary,  that  without  them  all  our 
pretensions  to  godliness  are  vain.  Yet  in  this 
decisive  manner  does  He  speak  of  them, 
"who  came  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth." 
"Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  me,  Lord, 
Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven ; 
but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Father  who 
is  in  heaven."  "  If  ye  know  these  things, 
happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them."  "  He  that  hath 
my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he 
it  is  that  loveth  me." 

But  is  it  not  equally  absurd  to  expect  this 
practice  where  there  is  nothing  to  secure  it? 
or  to  suppose  that  a  man's  life  will  be  in  per- 
petual contradiction  to  all  his  bias  and  incli- 
nations'! "  Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns, 
or  figs  of  thistles'!  Even  so,  every  good  tree 
bringeth  forth  good  fruit ;  but  a  corrupt  tree 
bringeth  forth  evil  fruit.  A  good  tree  cannot 
bring  forth  evil  fruit;  neither  can  a  corrupt 
tree  bring  forth  good  fruit." — In  order,  there- 
fore, to  do  justice  to  this  part  of  our  subject,  I 
would  state  two  remarks,  which  we  hope  you 


14 


SERMON  II. 


will  always  remember  and  unite.  First, 
principle  must  precede  practice.  Secondly, 
practice  must  follow  principle. 

First.  Observe  the  order  in  which  these 
things  are  arranged — "I  will  give  them  one 
heart,  and  I  will  put  a  new  spirit  within  you ; 
and  I  will  take  the  stony  heart  out  of  their 
flesh,  and  will  give  them  an  heart  of  flesh  : 
that  they  may  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  keep 
mine  ordinances,  and  do  them."  Thus  prin- 
ciple precedes  practice,  and  prepares  for  it. 
And  here  we  admire  the  plan  of  the  Gospel. 
To  make  the  fruit  good,  it  makes  the  tree  so : 
to  cleanse  the  stream,  it  purifies  the  fountain. 
It  renews  the  nature,  and  the  life  becomes 
holy  of  course.  What  is  the  religion  of  too 
many  1 — they  are  like  machines,  impelled  by 
force :  they  are  influenced  only  by  external 
considerations.  Their  hearts  are  not  engag- 
ed. Hence,  in  every  religious  exercise  they 
perform  a  task.  They  would  love  God  much 
better,  if  he  would  excuse  them  altogether 
from  the  hateful  obligation.  They  put  off 
these  duties  as  long  as  possible ;  resort  to  them 
with  reluctance ;  adjust  the  measure  with  a 
niggardly  grudge ;  and  are  glad  of  any  excuse 
for  neglect.  While  labouring  at  the  drudgery, 
they  entertain  hard  thoughts  of  the  crrfel 
Taskmaster,  who  can  impose  such  severities 
upon  them,  and  sigh  inwardly,  "  When  will 
the  Sabbath  be  over  1"  when  shall  we  unbend 
from  these  spiritual  restraints,  and  feel  our- 
selves at  liberty  in  the  world? — Can  this  be 
religion  ?  Is  there  any  thing  in  this,  suitable 
to  the  nature  of  God,  who  is  "  a  Spirit  !"  or 
to  the  demands  of  God,  who  cries,  "  My  son, 
give  me  thine  heart ;"  "  serve  the  Lord  with 
gladness,  and  come  before  his  presence  with 
singing  ?" — Behold  a  man  hungry — he  needs 
no  argument  to  induce  him  to  eat.  See  that 
mother — she  needs  no  motive  to  determine 
her  to  cherish  her  darling  babe — nature  im- 
pels. The  obedience  of  the  Christian  is,  in 
consequence  of  regeneration,  natural;  and 
hence  it  is  pleasant  and  invariable  :  "  he  runs 
and  is  not  weary,  he  walks  and  is  not  faint." 

Secondly.  It  is  equally  true  that  practice 
must  follow  principle.  The  one  is  the  ne- 
cessary consequence  of  the  other.  This  in- 
fluence will  operate :  if  it  be  fire,  it  will  burn ; 
if  it  be  leaven,  it  will  pervade  and  assimilate ; 
if  it  be  in  us  "  a  well  of  water,"  it  will 
"  spring  up  into  everlasting  life." — The  one 
is  the  proper  evidence  of  the  other.  The 
cause  is  ascertained  by  the  effect  It  is  not 
necessary  to  lay  open  the  body  of  a  tree,  to  de- 
termine, by  the  grain,  to  what  class  it  belongs : 
there  is  an  easier  and  a  surer  mode  of  judg- 
ing :  "  the  tree  is  known  by  its  fruits."  Some, 
while  leading  very  indifferent  lives,  tell  us 
their  hearts  are  good :  but  goodness  in  the 
heart  will  appear  in  the  life;  a  good  con- 
science will  always  be  accompanied  with  a 
good  conversation.  Faith  justifies  the  soul ; 
but  works  justify  faith.    "  Shew  me  thy  faith 


without  thy  works,  and  I  will  shew  thee  my 
faith  by  my  works."  The  one  is  the  chief 
recommendation  of  the  other.  It  is  by  prac- 
tice only  you  can  shew  the  value  of  principle. 
Your  views  and  feelings  are  beyond  the  reach 
of  others ;  your  experience  is  invisible :  but  it 
is  otherwise  with  your  actions;  these  come 
under  their  observation;  and  they  can  form 
an  estimate  of  your  religion  by  the  excel- 
lency of  its  influence.  And  when  your  lives 
correspond  with  your  profession;  when  you 
are  "followers  of  God  as  dear  children;" 
when  you  are  humble  in  prosperity ;  cheerful 
in  adversity;  ready  to  forgive;  willing  to 
bear  one  another's  burdens ;  attentive  to  the 
duties  of  your  stations ;  and  unblameable  in 
every  relation — you  are  perpetually  magnify- 
ing your  religion :  you  "  adorn  the  doctrine  of 
God  your  Saviour ;"  you  "  put  to  silence  the 
ignorance  of  foolish  men ;"  you  sometimes 
allure  them,  according  to  the  instructive  ad- 
monition of  our  Saviour,  "  Let  your  light  so 
shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your 

GOOD   WORKS,  AND    GLORIFY   YOUR  FATHER 

which  is  in  heaven." — And  with  what  is 
all  this  connected  1  "  They  shall  be  my  peo- 
ple, and  I  will  be  their  God."  This  shews  us, 

IV.  The  blessed  privilege  of  the  righ- 
teous. For  here  we  are  to  contemplate  their 
honour  and  their  happiness. — Every  thing  de- 
pends upon  this  relation.  "  Blessed  are  the 
people  that  are  in  such  a  case ;  yea,  happy  is 
that  people  whose  God  is  the  Lord." 

When  "  God  gave  promise  to  Abraham,  be- 
cause he  could  swear  by  no  greater,  He  sware 
by  himself :"  when  He  would  bless  his  peo- 
ple, because  He  could  give  them  no  greater, 
He  gave  Himself  They  are  all  a  nation  of 
Levites ;  for  "  the  Lord  is  their  inheritance :" 
and  it  is  "  a  goodly"  one ;  it  "  gives  grace 
and  glory,  and  no  good  thing  does"  it  "  with- 
hold from  them  that  walk  uprightly."  "  It  is 
profitable  unto  all  things ;  having  promise  of 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to 
come." 

— Consider  the  meaning  of  the  language. 
It  is  more  than  if  He  said,  I  will  be  thy  friend, 
thy  helper,  thy  benefactor ;  for  these  are  re- 
lations derived  from  creatures,  and  therefore 
notions  of  limited  significancy. — But  when  He 
says,  "  I  will  be  thy  God,  he  takes  an  image 
from  Himself,  and  engages  to  do  us  good  ac- 
cording to  the  all-sufficiency  of  an  infinite 
nature ;  to  bestow  upon  us  blessings  which 
are  peculiar  to  Deity — to  do  for  us  what  Deity 
alone  can  do,  and  to  do  it  divinely — to  par- 
don, and  to  pardon  like  a  God — to  sanctify, 
and  to  sanctify  like  a  God — to  comfort,  and 
to  comfort  like  a  God — to  glorify,  and  to  glo- 
rify like  a  God ; — God  appearing  all  along,  in 
the  manner,  as  well  as  in  the  mercy. 

Consider  also  the  nature  of  the  claim.  He 
is  really  yours.  In  nothing  else  have  you 
such  a  propriety.  Your  time  is  not  your  own  ; 
your  riches  are  not  your  own ;  your  children 


SERMON  II. 


15 


are  not  your  own ;  your  bodies,  and  your  spi- 
rits, are  not  your  own — but  God  is  yours  by 
absolute  promise,  and  donation  ;  and  you  may 
join  with  the  Church  of  old,  and  say,  "  God, 
"  even  our  own  God,  shall  bless  us."  And 
He  is  wholly  yours — all  He  is,  all  He  pos- 
sesses— the  perfections  of  his  nature,  the  dis- 
pensations of  his  providence,  the  blessings  of 
his  salvation,  the  treasures  of  his  word — all 
are  become  your  own  :  and  what  Benhadad 
said  to  the  king  of  Israel,  and  what  the  father 
of  the  prodigal  said  to  the  elder  brother,  God 
says  to  each  of  you — "  I  am  thine,  and  all  that 
I  have :"  "  Son,  thou  art  ever  with  me,  and 
all  that  I  have  is  thine."  And  He  is  yours 
for  ever;  the  union  is  indissoluble  ;  his  dura- 
tion is  the  tenure  of  your  bliss ;  as  long  as  He 
lives  he  will  be  your  God. 

Once  more :  Consider  the  final  issue  of  the 
connexion.    The  relation  is  intended  to  dis- 
play the  immensity  of  his  benevolence,  and 
of  his  munificence,  towards  his  people.  It 
does  much  for  them  here ;  and  when  they  re- 
flect upon  their  original  meanness  and  con- 
tinued unworthiness,  and  consider  what  they 
have  received,  they  are  filled  with  wonder, 
and  exclaim,  "  What  manner  of  love  is  this !" 
"  what  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his 
benefits  towards  me !" — But  they  "  shall  see 
greater  things  than  these."    They  have  now 
only  "the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit;"  "the 
earnest  of  their  inheritance."    Their  alliance 
with  God  is  often  concealed  from  others,  and 
from  themselves;  and  the  advantages  it  pro- 
duces are  circumscribed  by  the  world  in  which 
we  live,  and  the  body  of  this  death.    It  has 
not  room  in  which  to  operate,  or  time  in 
which  to  expand.     We  are  therefore  led  to 
look  forward  ;  and  what  the  apostle  says  with 
regard  to  the  patriarchs,  will  apply  to  all  his 
people — "  wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be 
called  their  God,  for  he  hath  prepared  for 
them  a  city."    What  an  intimation  of  his  in- 
finite goodness  is  here  !  He  would  be  asham- 
ed of  the  relation  into  which  He  has  entered, 
if  he  conferred  no  more  upon  his  followers 
than  the  benefits  they  derive  from  him  on 
earth. — Behold  then  an  eternity  succeeding 
time :  a  new  system  prepared  to  receive  them : 
a  happiness  in  reserve,  of  which  they  can  now 
form  no  adequate  conception ! — When  He 
has  exchanged  their  dungeon  for  a  palace ; 
when  he  has  "  wiped  away  all   tears  from 
their  eyes ;"  when  He  has  eased  every  pain, 
fulfilled  every  desire,  realized  every  hope; 
when  he  has  changed  "  this  vile  body,"  and 
fiishioned  it  like  the  "  glorious  body"  of  the 
Saviour  ;  when  He  has  entirely  expelled  sin 
from  their  nature,  and  presented  them,  "  fault- 
less, before  the  presence  of  his  glory,  with  ex- 
ceeding joy" — then  the  character  will  be  ful- 
ly displayed,  and  the  relation  completely  jus- 
tified ;  and  all  hell  and  heaven  will  acknow- 
ledge that  "  He  has  been  their  God." 
— I  divide  this  assembly  into  three  classes. 


And,  first,  I  address  those  who  are  careless  of 
this  blessed  relation. — Such  were  many  of 
the  Jews  of  old.  "  Israel,"  says  God,  "  would 
have  none  of  me."  And  you  are  of  the  same 
number.  You  say,  by  your  actions,  if  not  by 
your  words,  "  depart  from  us,  for  we  desire 
not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways."  You  are  ask- 
ing, "  who  will  shew  us  any  good  J"  but  you 
do  not,  and  you  know  you  do  not,  pray,  "  Lord, 
lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance 
upon  me." — But  is  it  a  vain  thing  to  seek 
God,  or  to  serve  Him?  Allowing  other  things 
to  be  valuable,  are  they  to  be  compared  with 
God,  who  is  the  portion  of  his  people  I  But 
they  are  not  valuable;  they  cannot  give  satis- 
faction; they  leave  a  void  unfilled ;  they  can- 
not ease  the  anguish  of  a  troubled  conscience, 
sustain  the  soul  in  trouble,  or  subdue  the  fear 
of  death :  they  fail  in  those  seasons  and  cir- 
cumstances in  which  you  must  need  their  aid. 
And,  for  these,  will  you  hazard  the  loss  of  the 
supreme  good  ?  Will  you  "  follow  lying  va- 
nities, and  forsake  your  own  mercies'!" — 
"  Have  the  workers  ofiniquity  no  knowledge  1" 
Now  you  know  not  the  magnitude  of  your 
loss :  you  are  not  aware  of  the  full  meaning 
of  the  word  "depart" — go  from  the  God  of 
life,  go  from  the  Source  of  all  consolation,  go 
from  all  mercy  and  grace,  for  ever.  Now, 
you  are  not  abandoned  to  reflection  :  you  are 
busied,  and  entertained  ;  and  though  not  sa- 
tisfied, you  are  diverted. — But, 

"  O  ye  jay  dreamers  of  gay  dreams, 

How  will  you  weather  an  eternal  night, 
Where  such  expedients  fail?" 

A  loss  is  to  be  measured  by  the  worth  of  the 
thing  we  lose — and  you  lose  God !  Other 
losses  may  be  corrective,  but  this  is  destruc- 
tive; other  losses  may  befal  friends,  but  this 
only  befals  enemies ;  other  losses  may  be  re- 
trieved, this  is  irreparable. — Is  He  willing  to 
become  mine?  He  is;  He  condescends  to  ex- 
postulate, to  invite,  to  press :  "  Wherefore  do 
ye  spend  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread, 
and  your  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not  1 
Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that 
which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself 
in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto 
me ;  hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live ;  and  I 
will  make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  you, 
even  the  sure  mercies  of  David." — "Seek  ye 
the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found ;  call  upon 
him  while  he  is  near." 

Secondly,  I  would  address  those  who  are  of 
a  doubtful  mind.  For  while  some  claim  the 
relation,  to  whom  it  does  not  belong,  some, 
to  whom  it  belongs,  are  afraid  to  claim 
it.  Now  this  is  to  be  lamented ;  for  if  God 
be  yours,  and  you  know  it  not,  you  sustain  a 
vast  loss  of  consolation.  Besides ;  it  is  possi- 
ble for  you  to  obtain  "a  good  hope  through 
grace :"  the  promise  implies  a  possibility  of 
decision.  "  They  shall  call  upon  my  Name, 
and  I  will  hear  them :  I  will  say,  It  is  my 
people ;  and  they  shall  say  the  Lord  is  mt 


1(3 


SERMON  III. 


God."  And  why  cannot  yon  say  this  ?  Have 
you  dissolved  connexion  with  the  world,  and 
taken  "  hold  of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew, 
saying-,  I  will  go  with  you,  for  I  have  heard 
that  God  is  with  you  V  Can  you  easily  make 
the  language  of  his  praying-  followers  your 
own  !  and  is  this  the  essence  of  every  desire 
you  feel — "  Remember  me,  O  Lord,  with  the 
favour  thou  bearest  to  thy  people.  O  visit  me 
with  thy  salvation  ;  that  I  may  see  the  g-ood 
of  thy  chosen,  that  I  may  rejoice  in  the  good- 
ness of  thy  nation,  that  I  may  glory  with  thine 
inheritance  ?"  When  your  minds  rove  through 
the  universe,  finding  no  substitute  for  Him,  do 
you  come  back  and  ask,  "  Where  is  God  my 
Maker,  who  giveth  songs  in  the  night !"  Af- 
ter comparing  communion  with  Him  to  every 
other  conceivable  good,  can  you  say,  "  Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee,  and  there  is  none 
upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  Thee  ?" — 
When  the  ambassadors  ofa  certain  nation  came 
to  the  Romans,  offering  to  be  their  allies,  and 
were  refused ;  they  said,  if  we  cannot  be  your 
allies,  we  will  be  your  subjects;  we  will  not 
be  your  enemies.  Can  you  say,  Lord,  I  will 
be  thine;  I  will  not  be  mine  own:  if  I  am 
not  received  as  a  friend,  I  will  be  employed  as 
a  servant :  I  never  can  be  thy  foe  1 — And  you 
are  wishing  to  be  able  to  "  say,  He  is  my 
God."  Why  you  have  said  it.  Having  thus 
chosen  Him,  be  assured  He  has  chosen  you. 
Having-  thus  given  yourselves  to  Him,  be  as- 
sured he  has  given  himself  to  you.  If  you 
are  his,  He  is  yours. — 

Thirdly,  are  there  none  in  the  Divine  pre- 
sence who  are  enabled  to  say,  as  the  language 
both  of  devotion  and  of  confidence,  "  My  Lord, 
and  my  God  ?" — Follow  the  example  of  the 
Church ;  publish  the  fame  of  his  goodness, 
and  animate  others  to  join  you  in  praising  Him. 
"  Behold,  God  is  my  salvation ;  I  will  trust 
and  not  be  afraid  :  for  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  my 
strength  and  my  song ;  he  also  is  become  my 
salvation."  Plead  your  interest  in  Him,  in 
all  your  dangers,  troubles,  and  necessities. 
Envy  none  their  wordly  distinctions.  Re- 
member your  pre-eminence :  "  you  are  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty." 
Do  not  complain  because  they  may  possess 
things,  of  which  you  are  deprived.  You  have 
a  God ;  they  are  destitute  :  you  can  sustain  a 
loss  uninjured;  they  would  be  undone.  If 
your  taper  be  extinguished,  you  have  a  sun  : 
but  when  "the  candle  of  the  wicked  is  put 
out,"  they  are  involved  in  darkness — "  dark- 
ness that  may  be  felt."  Honour  your  God  by 
living  upon  his  fulness,  and  endeavouring  by 
faith  to  realize  in  Him,  every  thing  you  seek 
for,  in  vain,  in  yourselves,  or  in  creatures. 
Observe  the  address  of  Moses  to  the  Israel- 
ites— "  What  nation  is  there  so  great,  who 
hath  God  so  nigh  unto  them,  as  the  Lord  our 
God  is  in  all  things  that  we  call  upon  him 
for  ?"  They  were  an  inconsiderable  body,  con- 
fined in  a  wilderness :  the  commerce,  arts  and 


sciences,  were  ail  with  their  enemies.  They 
had  the  same  raiment  they  wore  out  of  Egypt 
forty  years  before ;  and  had  no  provisions  be- 
forehand for  a  single  day.  But  their  pecu- 
liar greatness  arose  from  their  nearness  to 
God:  in  having  Him,  they  had  all.  He  pos- 
sessed, and  could  immediately  produce  the 
supplies  their  necessities  required  :  they  had 
only  to  ask  and  have. — When  David  was 
plundered,  and  stripped  of  all  he  had  in  Zik- 
lag;  it  is  said,  he  "  encouraged  himself  in  the 
Lord  his  God" — He  was  left.  Thus,  a  Chris- 
tian who  has  nothing,  possesses  all  things. — 
Creatures  may  abandon  him ;  but  his  God 
will  never  leave  nor  forsake  him.  Friends 
may  die  ;  but  the  Lord  liveth.  His  "  heart 
and  his  flesh  may  fail ;  but  God  is  the  strength 
of  his  heart,  and  his  portion  for  ever."  "  The 
heavens  may  pass  away  with  a  great  noise, 
and  the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat;  the 
earth  and  the  works  that  are  therein  may  be 
burned  up" — he  stands  upon  the  ashes  of  a 
universe,  and  exclaims,  I  have  lost  nothing  ! 
Yea,  he  has  gained  "  new  heavens  and  a  new 
earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness !" 


SERMON  III. 


VOWS  CALLED  TO  REMEMBRANCE. 

And  God  said  unto  Jacob,  Arise,  go  up  to  Beth- 
el, and  d-well  there  ;  and  make  there  an  al- 
tar unto  God,  that  appeared  unto  thee  when 
thou  jleddest  from  the  face  of  Esau,  thy  bro- 
ther. Then  Jacob  said  unto  his  household, 
and  to  all  that  -were  -with  him,  Put  away  the 
strange  gods  that  are  among  you,  and  be 
clean,  and  change  your  garments  :  and  let 
us  arise,  and  go  up  to  Bethel;  and  I  -will 
make  there  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered 
me  in  the  day  of  my  distress,  and  -was  with 
me  in  the  -way  -which  I  went. — Genesis  xxxv. 
1—3. 

The  pieces  of  history  preserved  in  the  book 
of  Genesis  are  peculiarly  valuable  and  worthy 
of  our  regard.  They  possess  the  claim  of  truth, 
of  impartiality,  of  remote  antiquity,  of  indivi- 
dual and  minute  description.  They  are  family 
scenes,  which  always  charm.  We  feel  our- 
selves in  private  life.  We  pursue  single 
characters  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  their 
pilgrimage,  and  observe  the  various  workings 
of  their  minds;  their  imperfections  and  their 
excellences ;  the  flesh  lusting  against  the  Spi- 
rit, and  the  Spirit  gaining  a  victory  over  the 
flesh.  They  are  also  recommended,  as  hold- 
ing forth  the  dispensations  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence and  Grace  combined.  It  is  painful  to 
see  a  man  raised  up  to  be  a  Divine  instrument 
only:  girded  and  guided  by  a  hand  which  he 
knows  not ;  accomplishing  designs  which  he 
never  desired  or  approved;  and  then  laid 
aside  or  dashed  to  pieces,  as  a  vessel  in  which 


SERMON  III. 


17 


there  is  no  pleasure:  and  such  are  often  the 
philosophers,  the  politicians,  and  the  heroes 
of  this  world.  But  how  delightful  and  edify- 
ing' is  it  to  contemplate  men,  who  were  not 
only  instruments,  but  favourites;  who  did 
"  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart,"  and  "  had 
the  testimony  that  they  pleased  Him  ;"  who 
were  the  depositaries  of  the  Divine  counsel, 
and  increased  the  treasures  of  Revelation ;  "  of 
whom,  as  concerning  the  flesh,  Christ  came ;" 
and  with  whom  we  hope  to  reside  for  ever : 
"  for  many  shall  come  from  the  east  and  west, 
and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  The 
command  of  God  also  leads  us  back  to  the  pa- 
triarchal age,  sends  us  forth  in  search  of  these 
renowned  worthies,  and  enjoins  us  "  not  to  be 
slothful,  but  followers  of  them,  who  through 
faith  and  patience  inherit  the  promises." 

These  reflections,  my  brethren,  are  intend- 
ed to  raise  this  book  in  your  esteem,  and  to 
engage  your  attention  to  the  words  which  I 
have  detached  from  it  for  your  present  edifi- 
cation. And  God  said  unto  Jacob,  "  Arise,  go 
up  to  Bethel,  and  dwell  there ;  and  make  there 
an  altar  unto  God,  that  appeared  unto  thee 
when  thou  fleddest  from  the  face  of  Esau,  thy 
brother.  Then  Jacob  said  unto  his  household, 
and  to  all  that  were  with  him,  Put  away  the 
strange  gods  that  are  among  you,  and  be  clean, 
and  change  your  garments :  and  let  us  arise, 
and  go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will  make  there 
an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered  me  in  the 
day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with  me  in  the 
way  which  I  went."    Let  us  review  the 

TRANSACTION  TO  WHICH  THESE  WORDS  REFER 

 DRAW  FORTH  SOME  OF  THE  INSTRUCTIONS 

IMPLIED   IN   THEM  AND    DISTINGUISH  THE 

CHARACTERS  IN  THIS  ASSEMBLY,  WHO  ARE  CON- 
CERNED IN  THE  COMMAND  AND  THE  EXAMPLE  

"  Arise,  and  go  up  to  Bethel."  "  Let  us  arise, 
and  go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will  there  make 
an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered  me  in  the 
day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with  me  in  the 
way  which  I  went." 

Part  I.  The  passage  before  us  refers  to  a 
very  interesting  part  of  the  history  of  Jacob, 
which  it  will  be  necessary  for  us  to  review. — 
To  escape  the  fury  of  his  brother  Esau,  Jacob, 
by  the  proposal  of  his  mother,  goes  to  Padan- 
Aram,  to  the  house  of  his  uncle  Laban.  On 
the  first  night  of  his  journey  he  dreamed.  He 
saw  a  ladder  reaching  from  earth  to  heaven ; 
angels  ascending  and  descending  upon  it,  and 
God  above  it,  in  a  posture  of  attention,  "  stand- 
ing" and  viewing  a  poor  pilgrim  below.  He 
also  spake.  He  assured  him  of  the  relation 
in  which  he  stood  to  his  pious  ancestors ;  and 
promised  to  give  the  land  of  Canaan  to  his 
seed,  to  render  his  progeny  illustrious  and  in- 
numerable, and  eventually  in  one  of  his  de- 
scendants to  bless  all  the  families  of  the  earth. 
To  accommodate  Himself  still  more  to  the  exi- 
gencies of  his  condition,  He  added,  "  Behold, 
I  am  with  thee;  and  will  keep  thee  in  all 
C  2*  " 


places  whither  thou  goest,  and  will  bring 
thee  again  into  this  land :  for  I  will  not  leave 
thee  until  I  have  done  that  which  I  have 
spoken  to  thee  of."    Deeply  impressed  with 
the  scene  and  the  language,  Jacob  arose ;  and, 
before  he  proceeded  on  his  journey,  "  vowed 
a  vow,  saying,  If  God  will  be  with  me,  and 
will  keep  me  in  the  way  that  I  go,  and  will 
give  me  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  to  put  on, 
so  that  I  come  again  to  my  father's  house  in 
peace  ;  then  shall  the  Lord  be  my  God,  and 
this  stone  which  I  have  set  for  a  pillar  shall 
be  God's  house,  and  of  all  that  thou  shalt  give 
me  I  will  surely  give  the  tenth  unto  thee." 
If  he  wished  to  lay  God  under  an  additional 
bond,  it  marks  his  infirmity  :  God  had  spoken, 
and  Jacob  should  have  been  satisfied.    But  it 
was  wise  and  pious  to  bind  himself.  Some 
have  been  inclined  to  censure  Jacob,  as  too 
conditional,  and  too  selfish,  on  this  occasion ; 
supposing  he  engaged  only  to  serve  God,  pro- 
vided he  should  be  indulged  with  the  bless- 
ings he  implores.    This  would  have  been 
censurable  indeed,  and  utterly  opposite  to  the 
faith  of  the  patriarchs,  one  of  whom  said, 
"Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
Him ;"  and  another  of  whom,  when  command- 
ed, "obeyed,  and  went  out,  not  knowing  whi- 
ther he  went."    The  meaning  is,  that  God, 
by  these  fresh  instances  of  his  favour,  would 
furnish  him  with  fresh  motives  to  serve  and 
glorify  Him ;  and  he  stipulates  the  manner  in 
which  he  would  discharge  the  obligation  he 
should  be  laid  under. 

After  the  twenty  years  of  hard  service  in 
the  house  of  his  uncle,  Jacob  resolves  to  re- 
turn. Three  days  after  his  departure,  Laban 
pursues  him.  He  overtakes  him  in  Gilead,  is 
pacified,  and  withdraws.  Jacob  moves  on — 
crosses  the  ford  of  Jabbok — descends  on  its 
southern  bank — reaches  the  ford  of  Succoth — 
wrestles  with  the  angel — passes  over  the  river 
Jordan  westward,  and  comes  to  Shalem.  This 
was  an  eventful  position.  Here  he  bought  a 
piece  of  ground  of  Hamor ;  here  he  raised  an 
altar ;  and  here  befel  him  the  affliction  he 
experienced  in  the  seduction  of  his  daughter, 
and  the  murder  of  the  Shechemites.  Here  he 
lingers  till  seven  or  eight  years  have  elapsed — 

0  Bethel,  how  art  thou  forgotten  !  O  Jacob, 
where  is  your  vow  to  repair  thither  as  soon  as 
you  returned  !  Your  God  has  fulfilled  his  en- 
gagement— He  has  been  with  you — defended 
you — prospered  you — and  you  are  come  back 
in  peace.  Where  is  your  altar  1  Where  the 
tenth  of  your  possessions  to  maintain  it  1 — We 
may  compare  one  character  with  another. 
Behold  David.  What  is  he  saying  1  "  1  will 
go  into  thy  house  with  burnt  offerings ;  I  will 
pay  thee  my  vows,which  my  lips  have  uttered, 
and  my  mouth  hath  spoken,  when  I  was  in 
trouble." — Hannah  occurs.  I  see  her  in  the 
bitterness  of  her  soul,  praying  and  weeping 

I  sore.    "  And  she  vowed  a  vow,  and  Baid,  O 

1  Lord  of  Hosts,  if  thou  wilt  indeed  look  on  the 


IS 


SERMON  III. 


affliction  of  thine  handmaid,  and  remember 
me,  and  not  forget  thine  handmaid,  but  wilt 
give  unto  thine  handmaid  a  man-child,  then  I 
will  give  him  unto  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
his  life,  and  there  shall  no  razor  come  upon 
his  head." — He  is  born  ;  and  his  very  name 
shall  be  a  remembrancer.  He  is  weaned ; 
and  she  takes  him  with  her,  and  brings  him 
into  the  house  of  God  in  Shiloh,  and  introduces 
him  to  Eli.  "  And  she  said,  O  my  lord,  as 
thy  soul  liveth,  my  lord,  I  am  the  woman  that 
stood  by  thee  here  praying  unto  the  Lord. 
For  this  child  I  prayed,  and  the  Lord  hath 
given  me  my  petition  which  I  asked  of  him  : 
therefore  also  I  have  lent  him  to  the  Lord  ; 
as  long  as  he  liveth  he  shall  be  lent  to  the 
Lord."  O  what  were  her  feelings  in  this 
journey  !  What  a  contention  between  the  mo- 
ther and  the  saint !  What  a  trial  was  here ! — 
an  only  child — a  child  long  desired,  and  en- 
deared by  a  thousand  considerations — to  give 
him  up — to  resign  him  for  ever — to  see  him 
once  a  year  only,  to  renew  the  pain  of  sepa- 
ration !  What  a  superior  delicacy,  fervour, 
permanency,  is  there  in  the  devotion  of  this 
female !  How  does  the  patriarch  vanish  from 
a  comparison  of  this  pious  woman ! 

— Here  Jacob  still  lingers,  and  discovers  no 
disposition  to  perform  his  vow  ;  and  it  becomes 
necessary  for  God  himself  to  address  him. 
"  And  God  said  unto  Jacob,  Arise,  go  up  to 
Bethel,  and  dwell  there ;  and  make  thee  an 
altar  unto  God,  that  appeared  unto  thee  when 
thoufleddest  from  the  face  of  Esau  thy  brother. 
Then  Jacob  said  unto  his  household,  and  to 
all  that  were  with  him,  Put  away  the  strange 
gods  that  are  among  you,  and  be  clean,  and 
change  your  garments :  and  let  us  arise,  and 
go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will  make  there  an 
altar  unto  God,  who  answered  me  in  the  day 
of  my  distress,  and  was  with  me  in  the  way 
which  I  went."    From  these  words — 

Part  II.  We  may  derive  some  instructive 
and  useful  observations. 

First,  we  may  remark  how  soon  the  influ- 
ence of  impressive  scenes  wears  away,  and 
how  prone  we  are  to  lose  the  sense  of  our 
mercies,  and  all  the  religious  feelings  they 
produce. — If  a  person  had  seen  Jacob  on  the 
morning  after  his  vision,  and  when  he  was 
leaving  the  place  made  sacred  by  his  experi- 
ence and  engagement  there ;  and  had  said  to 
him,  "  God  will  accomplish  thy  desire :  he 
will  guide  thee  and  keep  thee ;  provide  for 
thee,  and  bring  thee  back,  enriched  and  mul- 
tiplied, to  see  thy  native  land — and  thou,  wilt 
thou  think  nothing  of  all  this ;  wilt  thou  live 
year  after  year  unmindful  of  Bethel,  and  suf- 
fer thy  vow  to  lie  unperformed  V — the  pro- 
phecy would  have  been  incredible ;  he  would 
have  exclaimed,  "  Can  I  ever  thus  trifle  with 
God,  or  become  insensible  to  such  a  benefac- 
tor "  What !  is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he 
should  do  this  thing !" — How  were  the  Isra- 
elites affected  when  God  appeared  to  them ! 


"  They  sang  his  praise."  They  resolved  to 
distrust  him  no  more.  They  said,  "  All  that 
the  Lord  commandeth  us  will  we  do."  "  But 
they  soon  forgat  his  works,  and  the  wonders 
which  He  had  shewn  them."  They  mur- 
mured again  ;  rebelled  again ;  all  their  mer- 
cies were  written  in  the  sand,  and  the  first 
returning  wave  of  trouble  washed  them  out. 
— Hence  David  lays  an  embargo  upon  his 
thoughts :  "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and 
forget  not  all  his  benefits."  It  would  be  well, 
if  we  could  identify  and  secure  our  feelings 
in  certain  periods  and  conditions  of  life,  that 
we  might  afterwards  review  them,  compare 
ourselves  with  them,  perceive  our  declen- 
sions and  deficiencies;  and  bring  forward 
these  former  experiences — when  we  grow 
cold,  to  warm  us ;  and  when  we  grow  slothful, 
to  quicken  us.  A  faithful  recollection  is  of  pe- 
culiar importance  to  the  Christian :  things  can 
impress  the  mind  no  longer  than  they  are  in 
it;  and  lapses  in  the  memory  occasion  fail- 
ures in  the  life.  But,  alas !  like  a  sieve, 
full  while  in  the  river,  but,  when  raised  up, 
empty  and  dropping;  and  as  water,  which 
has  a  natural  tendency  to  be  cold,  but  requires 
a  perpetual  fire  to  keep  it  warm  ;  so  treache- 
rous are  our  memories  in  divine  things ;  so 
constantly  do  we  need  means  and  helps ;  so 
necessary  is  it  to  have  our  "  minds  stirred  up 
by  way  of  remembrance." 

Secondly,  God  will  remind  his  people  of 
forgotten  duties.  And  he  can  never  be  at  a 
loss  for  means  to  admonish  us.  He  addresses 
us  by  his  providence.  The  design  of  afflic- 
tion is  to  bring  our  sin  to  remembrance. 
Sometimes  the  cause  of  affliction  is  not  so 
obvious ;  and  we  say,  with  Job,  "  Shew  me 
wherefore  thou  contendest  with  me."  At 
other  times,  there  is  a  wonderful  correspond- 
ence between  the  crime  and  the  calamity: 
the  one  is  not  only  the  consequence,  but  the 
discovery  of  the  other,  and  leads  back  the 
mind  instantly  to  it. — When  God  brings  us 
into  new  difficulties,  and  we  apply  for  relief, 
our  former  deliverances  and  indulgences 
are  remembered ;  and  our  ingratitude,  in  not 
duly  acknowledging  and  improving  them, 
stares  us  in  the  face,  and  destroys  the  liberty 
and  life  of  prayer. — Have  you  succoured  a 
fellow-creature,  and  is  he  thankful'!  Can  you 
hear  his  praises  for  your  petty  favours, .  and 
not  be  reminded  of  your  obligations  to  God 
for  benefits  infinitely  superior'!  Or  is  he 
unthankful  and  unworthy  !  Here  is  a  glass 
held  up  as  you  pass  along,  in  which  you  may 
catch  a  glance  of  your  own  image : — "  How 
much  more  unthankful  and  unworthy  have  I 
proved  to  my  Almighty  Friend,  whose  good- 
ness and  mercy  have  followed  me  all  the  days 
of  my  life  !" — He  renews  recollection  by 
means  of  his  word.  The  Scripture  is  not  only 
"  profitable  for  doctrine  ;  but  reproof,  correc- 
tion, and  instruction  in  righteousness."  It 
not  only  affords  a  word  in  season  for  him  that 


SERMON  III. 


10 


is  weary,  but  for  him  that  is  careless  and  luke- 
warm.   By  this  the  secrets  of  the  heart  are 
made  manifest.    And  happy  are  those  who 
are  willing  to  apply  this  touchstone;  to  use 
this  balance  of  the  sanctuary ;  to  take  this 
candle  of  the  Lord,  and  examine  the  cham- 
bers of  imagery  within  ;  and  who,  when  they 
have  done  all,  will  invite  a  severer  scrutiny 
— "  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my  heart ; 
try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts ;  and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me 
in  the  way  everlasting." — Ministers  are  God's 
remembrancers.     Their  business  is,  not  to 
bring  strange  things  to  your  ears,  to  enter- 
tain you  with  novelties,  or  to  encourage  in  you 
a  fondness  for  those  speculations  which  bear 
slightly  on  the  heart  and  life :  but  they  are  to 
recal  your  attention  to  things  which,  though 
the  most  simple,  are  the  most  important,  and 
at  the  same  time  the  most  neglected ;  to  re- 
mind you  of  things  already  known ;  to  im- 
press you  with  things  already  believed ;  to 
place  your  practice  opposite  your  faith,  and 
your  lives  by  the  side  of  your  profession.    "  I 
will  therefore  put  you  in  remembrance  of 
these  things,  though  ye  once  knew  them" — 
here  is  our  example.    "  If  thou  put  the  bre- 
thren in  remembrance  of  these  things,  thou 
shalt  be  a  good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ' 
this  is  our  commendation. — God  has  also  an 
internal  witness  and  monitor :  it  is  conscience 
and  if  in  its  natural  state  it  has  power  to  ac 
cuse  the  transgressor,  how  much  more  influ- 
ence will  it  possess  when  renewed  and  sanc- 
tified ! 

Thirdly,  gracious  characters  are  alive  to 
Divine  intimations. — Herein  we .  perceive  a 
difference  between  them  and  others.  They 
are  encompassed  with  infirmity ;  they  may 
err;  they  may  fall:  but  there  is  in  them  a 
principle  which  secures  their  rising  again ; 
they  are  open  to  conviction,  they  welcome 
reproof ;  they  melt,  retract,  reform,  and  are 
watchful  and  prayerful  to  prevent  similar 
miscarriages  in  future.  A  man  asleep  only, 
is  very  distinguishable  from  a  person  dead; 
the  difference  will  appear  as  soon  as  you  en- 
deavour to  awake  them  :  the  one  is  unsuscep- 
tible ;  the  other  stirs,  inquires,  springs  up. 
A  living  bough  may  bend  down  to  the  earth 
under  a  pressure ;  but  remove  the  load,  and 
it  is  upright  again,  and  points  heavenward. 
Elihu  finely  describes  the  feelings  of  a  pious 
mind  under  Divine  correction — "  Surely  it  is 
meet  to  be  said  unto  God,  I  have  borne  chas- 
tisement, I  will  not  offend  any  more.  That 
which  I  know  not,  teach  thou  me :  if  I  have 
done  iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more."  When  our 
Lord  looked  only  upon  Peter,  "he  went  out 
and  wept  bitterly." — Jacob  does  not  argue  the 
matter  with  God  ;  does  not  vindicate  himself; 
does  not  extenuate  his  fault  The  Lord  em- 
ploys no  severe  language ;  nor  is  it  necessa- 
ry :  a  soft  word  subdues  him — "  It  is  too  plain 
to  be  denied,  and  too  bad  to  be  excused.  I 


have  sinned :  what  shall  be  done  unto  thee, 
O  thou  Preserver  of  men !  I  will  acknow- 
ledge my  transgression.      I  will  be  sor- 
ry for  my  sin.    I  will  forsake  it.    Duty  ne- 
glected, alas!  so  long,  shall  be  no  longer  ne- 
glected.   Thy  voice  I  hear;  thy  command  I 
hasten  to  obey."    Such  was  the  meaning  of 
his  words,  and  of  his  practice.    For  he  does 
not  delay  or  hesitate  :  "  Then  Jacob  said  un- 
to his  household,  and  to  all  that  were  with 
him,  Put  away  the  strange  gods  that  are 
among  you,  and  be  clean,  and  change  your 
garments ;  and  let  us  arise,  and  go  up  to 
Bethel." — From  hence  we  may  observe  also, 
Fourthly,  that  holy  preparations  become 
the  service  of  God. — They  are  generally 
deemed  necessary  for  ministers:  it  is  sup- 
posed they  ought  to  be  previously  alone — to 
fix  their  attention ;  to  impress  their  minds ; 
to  implore  the  Divine  assistance  and  blessing. 
But  have  hearers  no  need  of  this  ?  Are  they 
to  engage  in  the  worship  of  God,  entirely  re- 
gardless of  the  nature,  the  importance,  and 
the  influence  of  divine   institutions?  To 
omissions  of  this  kind  it  is  owing,  that  ordi- 
nances in  our  day  are  become  as  unprofitable 
as  they  are  common. — If  before  you  came  to- 
gether you  retired,  and  endeavoured  to  obtain 
an  abstraction  of  mind — if,  by  reflection,  you 
procured  a  seriousness  of  frame,  so  friendly  to 
devotion — if,  by  examining  yourselves,  you 
discovered  what  sinful  prejudice,  or  passion, 
was  likely  to  render  you  partial  hearers — if 
you  formed  a  resolution  to  lay  yourselves 
open  to  the  influence  of  the  word,  and  to  rec- 
tify whatever  appeared  to  be  wrong — if  you 
remembered  that  you  are  accountable  even  for 
your  attendance,  and  that  the  word  you  hear 
will  judge  you  in  the  last  day — if  you  came 
with  eager  desire  and  earnest  expectation, 
founded  on  the  promise  of  God,  that  he  is  the 
re  warder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him  ; 
and,  above  all,  with  prayer,  knowing  that  "  nei- 
ther is  he  that  planteth  any  thing,  nor  he  that 
watereth,  but  God  who  giveth  the  increase :" 
— were  you  thus  to  enter  on  the  service 
of  the  sanctuary — I  ask,  would  there  not  be  a 
natural  tendency  in  all  this  to  render  the 
means  of  grace  impressive  and  efficacious? 
and  is  not  this  the  only  authorized  way  in 
which  you  can  hope  for  the  Divine  blessing  1 
Careless  entering  upon  duty  is  rarely  profit- 
able.   God  may  meetus unawares  ;  but  where 
has  he  promised  to  do  it  1  "  Draw  nigh  to 
God,  and  he  will  draw  nigh  to  you."    "  Keep 
thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  house  of  God." 

Offer  not  the  sacrifice  of  fools."  "  Take 
heed  how  ye  hear."  "  Wherefore  lay  apart 
all  filthiness,  and  superfluity  of  naughtiness, 
and  receive  with  meekness  the  engrafted  word, 
which  is  able  to  save  your  souls."  These  are 
the  commands  of  God ;  and  they  regulate  our 
hope,  as  well  as  our  practice.  And  in  this 
manner  our  good  old  forefathers  worshipped. 
Then,  public  services  were  not  so  multiplied 


20 


SERMON  III. 


as  to  abridge,  if  not  exclude,  the  duties  of  the 
family  and  the  closet.  Then,  hearing  the 
word  was  not  rendered  a  customary,  common, 
and  trifling  entertainment.  With  them,  di- 
vine worship  was  an  awful  thing :  they  pre- 
pared for  one  duty,  by  another ;  and,  like 
wise  performers,  they  tuned  the  instruments 
before  the  concert  began. 

Fifthly,  There  may  be  wickedness  in  a  re- 
ligious family. — We  find  "strange  gods" 
even  in  Jacob's  household.  We  may  view 
iniquity  in  such  a  situation  two  ways.  First, 
as  a  good  man's  affliction : — and  a  dreadful 
affliction  it  will  prove.  It  is  bad  to  have  sick- 
ness in  his  house,  but  it  is  worse  to  have  sin, 
the  plague  and  pestilence  of  the  soul.  How, 
says  he,  can  I  bear  to  see  the  destruction  of 
my  kindred  ! — Secondly,  as  a  good  man's 
fault.  Could  we  see  things  as  God  does,  and 
be  able  to  trace  back  effects  to  their  causes, 
we  should  soon  perceive  the  source  of  the  dis- 
orders and  wickedness  which  prevail  in  many 
houses. — Masters  of  families !  have  you  ruled 
well  the  charge  which  God  has  given  you  ] 
Have  you  behaved  toward  your  servants,  as 
remembering  you  have  a  Master  in  heaven ] 
Have  you  shewn  them  a  kind  and  a  pious  at- 
tention ?  Have  you  had  your  children  in  sub- 
jection] Have  you  trained  them  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord]  Have 
you  instructed  them  only  in  particular  dog- 
mas; or  impregnated  them  with  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  and  endeavoured  to  render  its 
duties  lovely  and  practicable  ?  Have  you  not 
provoked  them  to  wrath  till  they  are  discou- 
raged 1  Or  has  not  your  indulgence  become 
connivance ;  so  that  you  have  resembled  Eli, 
whose  "sons  made  themselves  vile,  and  he 
restrained  them  not?" — or  David,  "  who  had 
never  displeased  Adonijah  at  any  time,  in 
saying,  Why  hast  thou  done  so]"  Have  you 
maintained  order ;  or  lived  in  a  confusion  fa- 
vourable to  every  evil  work  ]  Has  daily  devo- 
tion been  seriously  performed]  Have  you 
enforced  all  by  your  own  walk  and  conversa- 
tion ]  Have  you  set  no  evil  thing  before  your 
eyes]  While  you  have  preached  meekness 
in  words,  have  you  not  recommended  passion 
by  example]  While  you  have  taught  them 
humility  by  precept,  have  you  not  enforced 
pride  by  practice  ] — And  are  you  surprised  to 
find  irregularities  in  your  family  ]  Wonder, 
if  you  please ; — but  wonder  at  your  own  folly 
in  seeking  by  the  way-side  to  "  gather  grapes 
of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles."  Complain,  if 
you  please; — but  complain  of  yourselves. 
Are  you  so  unreasonable  as  to  expect  to 
"  reap  where  you  have  not  sown,  and  to  ga- 
ther where  you  have  not  strewed  ] 

Again,  we  remark,  That  our  religious  con- 
cern should  not  be  confined  to  ourselves  only: 
we  are  to  engage  our  families  to  accompany 
us  in  the  exercises  of  devotion. — Thus  Jacob 
would  not  go  alone,  but  calls  upon  his  house- 
hold, and  all  that  are  with  him :  each  must 


prepare,  and  each  must  attend.  And  of  Abra- 
ham says  God,  "  I  know  him,  that  he  will 
command  his  children  and  his  household  af- 
ter him ;  and  he  shall  keep  the  way  of  the 
Lord,  to  do  justice  and  judgment ;  that  the 
Lord  may  bring  upon  Abraham  that  which  he 
hath  spoken  of  him."  In  the  same  disposition 
was  Joshua,  who  said,  "  As  for  me  and  my 
house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord."  We  may 
add  the  centurion :  He  feared  "  God  with  all 
his  house."  In  your  own  families  you  possess 
authority  and  influence :  "  a  father  has  hon- 
our, a  master  fear."  Servants  and  children 
naturally  obey.  This  authority  and  influence 
you  are  to  employ  for  religious,  as  well  as  ci- 
vil purposes;  and  to  vary  the  exercise  of  them 
according  to  the  condition  of  those  who  are 
in  family  connexion  with  you — using  com- 
mand with  some,  persuasion  with  others, 
means  with  all.  As  the  head  of  a  family,  you 
are  to  mind  the  souls  of  those  who  are  under 
your  care,  as  well  their  bodies.  They  are  not 
designed  to  live  here  only,  or  principally; 
they  are  hastening  into  eternity.  And  you 
are  not  to  live  here  always :  you  will  soon  be 
called  "  to  give  an  account  of  your  steward- 
ship ;"  and  you  will  be  judged,  not  only  as  an 
individual,  butas  the  owner  of  an  household: 
after  the  man  has  been  tried,  the  master  will 
be  summoned.  O  that  you  may  "  give  up 
your  account  with  joy,  and  not  with  grief!" — 
Even  here  you  have  the  advantage  of  domes- 
tic religion :  "  the  voice  of  salvation  and  of 
rejoicing  is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  righ- 
teous:" such  households  only  are  safe  and 
happy.  How  pleasing  is  it  to  see  all  the 
members  of  a  family  worshipping  God  toge- 
ther daily  in  their  own  house !  How  lovely  to 
observe  them  coming  forth  in  the  morning 
of  the  Sabbath,  all  going  to  the  house  of  God 
in  company  !  Ministers  are  encouraged,  while 
they  see  in  such  households  the  nurseries  of 
their  churches,  and  address  with  pleasure  a 
hopeful  assembly,  formed  by  the  union  of  a 
number  of  amiable,  orderly,  serious  families. 
But  they  are  pained  to  see  you  disjoined,  and 
coming  in  alone ;  the  father  without  the  son, 
the  mother  without  the  daughter.  Shall  I  inti- 
mate here  the  propriety  not  only  of  your  en- 
gaging your  families  in  religious  duties,  but 
of  taking  them  along  with  you.  as  far  as  cir- 
cumstances will  allow,  to  the  same  place  of 
worship]  Thus  you  will  be  certain  of  their  at- 
tendance ;  they  will  be  under  your  eye ;  they 
will  be  preserved  from  that  fastidiousness  and 
vagrancy  of  mind,  so  much  cherished  by  loose 
and  various  hearing. 

Once  more,  we  may  observe,  That  deliver- 
ance claims  service — that  prayer  answered  is 
to  become  praise. — Jacob  resolves  to  distin- 
guish himself  for  God,  who  had  appeared  so 
wonderfully  for  him ;  and  to  make  the  place 
of  mercy,  the  place  of  duty — "  There  will  I 
make  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered  me  in 
the  day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with  me  in 


SERMON  III. 


21 


the  way  which  I  went." — I  see  him  travelling 
slowly  on  with  his  family — at  length  he  ap- 
proaches Bethel. — To  revisit  a  place  we  have 
not  seen  for  twenty-eight  years,  is  always  af- 
fecting. Many  reflections  will  naturally  arise 
in  a  contemplative  mind. — "  Since  I  last 
viewed  this  spot,  what  unexpected  connec- 
tions have  I  formed !  What  changes  have  I 
experienced  !  I  have  been  led  by  a  way  which 
I  knew  not — Lover  and  friend  hast  Thou  put 
far  from  me,  and  my  acquaintance  into  dark- 
ness.— How  much  of  life  is  gone,  to  return  no 
more !  it  has  passed  away  like  a  dream.  How 
little  is  there,  in  looking  back,  upon  which 
the  mind  can  fix  with  satisfaction  !  How  often 
have  I  been  deceived  in  my  hopes !  How  va- 
ried does  the  world  now  appear  !  How  much 
more  of  its  vanity  do  I  see,  and  of  its  vexation 
do  I  feel !  It  is  time  to  seek  a  better  country. 
So  teach  me  to  number  my  days,  that  I  may 
apply  my  heart  unto  wisdom." — Jacob  is  now 
arrived — he  looks  around — he  descries,  par- 
tially covered  with  moss,  the  stone  which  he 
had  set  up  for  a  pillar — he  embraces  it — and 
calling  to  his  family — "  Twenty-eight  years 
ago  this  very  stone  was  my  pillow.  Here, 
destitute  of  accommodations,  I  was  compelled 
to  sleep:  here  I  passed — my  staff  all  my 
store ; — and  hither  He  has  returned  me." 
What  mingled  emotions  does  he  feel ! — what 
shame !  what  joy !  what  condemnation  of 
himself!  what  praise  to  the  God  of  Bethel ! 

Christians,  you  have  no  journey  to  take,  no 
material  altar  to  raise,  no  animal  sacrifice  to 
immolate.  "  Offer  unto  God  thanksgiving ; 
and  pay  thy  vows  unto  the  Most  High. 
— Whoso  ofFereth  me  praise,  glorifieth  me; 
and  to  him  that  ordereth  his  conversation 
aright,  will  I  shew  the  salvation  of  God." — 
What  say  you,  Christians  1 — Have  you  had 
no  "  day  of  distress,  in  which  He  answered" 
you  ?  Has  there  been  no  "  way  in  which  He 
has  been  with"  you,  as  your  guide  and  your 
protector?  Has  He  not  disappointed  your 
fears,  and  far  exceeded  your  hopes  ? — "  But 
Hezekiah  rendered  not  according  to  the  bene- 
fits which  had  been  done  unto  him." — "  Were 
there  not  ten  cleansed?  but  where  are  the 
nine  1" — "  Go  up,"  says  God,  "  to  Bethel,  and 
dwell  there." — May  you  answer,  with  Jacob, 
"  Let  us  arise,  and  go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  there 
will  I  make  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered 
me  in  the  day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with 
me  in  the  way  which  I  went."    To  whom, 

Part  III.  does  this  apply  ?  and  who  in  this 
assembly  is  concerned  in  the  command  and 
the  example ! 

First,  Have  none  of  you  been  advanced  in 
worldly  possessions  1 — Wealth  is  not  always 
hereditary :  Providence  sometimes  "  raiseth 
up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lifteth  up  the 
needy  out  of  the  dunghill."  Many  know 
what  it  is  to  be  "  abased,"  as  well  as  what  it 
is  to  "abound." — Look  back  to  a  period,  when 
if  you  were  not  embarrassed,  you  had  "  none 


inheritance  ;  no,  not  so  much  as  to  set  your 
foot  on." — Remember  your  feelings  when  be- 
ginning the  world.  You  formed  your  plans, 
and  endeavoured  to  secure  His  assistance, 
whose  "  blessing  maketh  rich,  and  addeth  no 
sorrow.  Except  the  Lord  build  the  house, 
they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it.  It  is  in 
vain  to  rise  up  early,  to  sit  up  late,  and  to  eat 
the  bread  of  sorrows. — O  Lord,  I  beseech 
thee,  send  now  prosperity  !  With  such  oppor- 
tunities and  capacities,  I  will  promote  thy 
cause,  and  relieve  thy  poor.  The  streams 
shall  remind  me  of  the  Fountain.  Praise 
waiteth  for  thee,  O  God  ;  and  unto  thee  shall 
the  vow  be  performed."  And  He  has  more 
than  realized  your  expectations.  The  staff 
has  long  since  disappeared,  and  we  behold 
your  two  bands  :  we  see  abundance,  or  shall 
I  say  extravagance  1 — Where  are  your  altars, 
and  your  offerings?  Where  are  your  promis- 
ed thankfulness  and  zeal  ?  What  have  you 
rendered  ?  What  have  you  done  ?  What  are 
you  doing?  He  calls  upon  you  to  follow  this 
example  ;  and  to  say — "  Let  us  arise,  and  go 
up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will  make  there  an  altar 
unto  God,  who  answered  me  in  the  day  of  my 
distress,  and  was  with  me  in  the  way  which 
I  went." 

Secondly,  Have  none  of  you  been  led  back 
from  "the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death?" — 
To  think  of  dying,  was  awful  and  affecting. 
To  take  a  final  leave  of  earth ;  to  drop 
schemes  unfinished ;  to  bid  farewell  to  friends; 
to  see  weeping  relations  ;  to  feel  pain  of  body, 
and  remorse  of  conscience ;  to  contemplate  an 
opening  eternity ;  and  to  find  the  Judge 
standing  before  the  door — all  made  you  say, 
"  O  remember  that  my  life  is  wind ;  mine 
eye  shall  no  more  see  good.  The  eye  of  him 
that  hath  seen  me,  shall  see  me  no  more : 
Thine  eyes  are  upon  me,  and  I  am  not." 
"  Return,  O  Lord  ;  deliver  my  soul :  O  save 
me,  for  thy  mercies'  sake :  for  in  death  there 
is  no  remembrance  of  thee  ;  in  the  grave  who 
shall  give  thee  thanks?" — You  assumed  an 
air  of  penitence:  you  promised  to  render  life, 
if  spared,  sacred  to  religion.  He  heard  your 
prayer,  saw  your  fears,  removed  the  stroke 
of  his  heavy  hand,  renewed  your  strength, 
recoloured  your  cheeks,  and  placed  you  in 
the  circle  of  usefulness  and  friendship  again. 
But  the  scene,  as  it  removed  to  a  distance, 
ceased  to  impress :  your  views  of  this  world 
as  you  stood  on  the  confines  of  another,  were 
soon  changed  :  your  resolutions  are  now  for- 
gotten, or  you  blush  to  recal  them  :  you  are 
ashamed  to  think  that  any  should  have  wit- 
nessed such  instances  of  "  weakness."  To 
remove  every  notion  of  your  having  been  se- 
rious in  them,  you  plunge  deeper  in  dissipa- 
tion than  before :  when  these  vows  occur, 
you  endeavour,  by  company  or  pleasure,  to 
banish  them.  You  cried,  "  Let  me  die  the 
death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be 
like  his !"  you  asked  for  serious  Christians, 


22 


SERMON  IV. 


and  pious  ministers,  and  said,  "  Pray  for  us." 
These  you  now  shun :  you  know  them  not : 
they  would  give  an  edge  to  memory,  and  a 
sting  to  conscience. — And  "  is  it  thus  you  re- 
quite the  Lord,  O  foolish  people  and  unwise?" 
Look  back  to  the  hour  of  affliction,  and  of  dan- 
ger— remember  thy  fears,  thy  groans,  thy 
prayers,  and  thy  professions. — Go,  and  ac- 
knowledge the  Lord  that  healed  thee.  Let 
the  physician  who  prescribed  for  thee,  and 
those  friends  who  soothed  thee  on  the  bed  of 
languishing,  have  their  share  of  praise :  but 
"  the  Lord  killeth,  and  maketh  alive ;  He 
bringeth  down  to  the  grave,  and  raiseth  up." 
Say,  with  David,  "  I  was  brought  low,  and 
He  helped  me  :  what  shall  I  render  unto  the 
Lord  for  all  his  benefits  towards  me '!  I  will 
take  the  cup  of  salvation,  and  call  upon  the 
name  of  the  Lord  ;  1  will  pay  my  vows  unto 
the  Lord,  now  in  the  presence  of  all  his  peo- 
ple." Say,  with  Hezekiah,  "  The  living,  the 
living,  he  shall  praise  thee,  as  I  do  this  day : 
the  father  to  the  children  shall  make  known 
thy  truth.  The  Lord  was  ready  to  save  me : 
therefore  we  will  sing  my  song  to  the  string- 
ed instruments  all  the  days  of  our  life  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord."  Imitate  Jacob — "  Let 
us  arise,  and  go  up  to  Bethel ;  and  I  will 
build  there  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered 
me  in  the  day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with 
me  in  the  way  which  I  went." 

Thirdly,  Are  there  no  backsliders  here"! — 
When  you  had  fallen  by  your  iniquity,  did 
not  anguish  and  horror  take  hold  upon  you  ? 
Reflecting  upon  your  sin,  aggravated  by  know- 
ledge, and  by  obligations  the  most  tender  and 
most  awful,  were  you  not  ready  to  conclude 
your  case  was  hopeless  1  And  when  at  length 
you  were  encouraged  to  approach,  and  to  ad- 
dress the  God  you  had  provoked,  was  not  this 
your  language  ?  "  Lord,  take  away  all  ini- 
quity;  receive  us  graciously ;  so  will  we  ren- 
der the  calves  of  our  lips.  Ashur  shall  not 
save  us :  we  will  not  ride  upon  horses ;  nei- 
ther will  we  say  any  more  to  the  work  of  our 
hands,  ye  are  our  gods:  for  in  thee  the  fa- 
therless findeth  mercy."  Cast  me  not 
away  from  thy  presence,  and  take  not  thy 
Holy  Spirit  from  me.  Restore  unto  me  the 
joy  of  thy  salvation,  and  uphold  me  with  thy 
free  Spirit:  then  will  I  teach  transgressors 
thy  ways,  and  sinners  shall  be  converted  un- 
to thee. — Open  thou  my  lips,  and  my  mouth 
shall  shew  forth  thy  praise."  Fulfil  your  en- 
gagements ;  follow  the  Patriarch — "  Let  us 
arise,  and  go  up  to  Bethel;  and  I  will  build 
there  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered  me 
in  the  day  of  my  distress,  and  was  with  me 
in  the  way  which  I  went." 

Fourthly,  What  were  your  feelings,  O 
Christians,  when,  convinced  of  sin,  you  were 
first  led  to  seek  salvation  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  t — Ah !  return,  ye  affecting  mo- 
ments, and  remind  us  of  an  experience  which 
has  long  been  fled.    O  what  strivings  against 


sin!  O  what  indifference  to  the  world!  O 
what  engagements  to  serve  God  ! — You  were 
willing  to  follow  wherever  He  should  lead ; 
you  gloried  in  the  reproach  of  his  cross ; 
"  having  food  and  raiment,"  you  were  "  there- 
with content."  One  thing  was  needful,  one 
concern  engrossed  you — "  Say  unto  my  soul, 
I  am  thy  salvation." — You  succeeded ;  and 
you  have  a  good  hope  through  grace.  But  to 
what  is  all  this  blessed  experience  reduced  1 
— To  this  dulness  in  hearing ;  to  this  dead- 
ness  in  prayer ;  to  this  murmuring  and  com- 
plaining under  trials ;  to  this  fear  of  man 
which  bringeth  a  snare  ;  to  this  eagerness  for 
the  things  of  the  world  : — "  Go,  and  cry  in  the 
ears  of  Jerusalem,  saying,  Thus  saith  the 
Lord,  I  remember  thee,  the  kindness  o  thy 
youth,  the  love  of  thine  espousals,  when  thou 
wentest  after  me  in  the  wilderness,  in  a  land 
that  was  not  sown  :  Israel  was  holiness  to  the 
Lord,  and  the  first-fruits  of  his  increase." 
"  Nevertheless  I  have  somewhat  against  thee, 
because  thou  hast  left  thy  first  love  :  remember 
therefore  from  whence  thou  art  fallen,  and 
repent,  and  do  thy  first  works." — "Arise, 
and  go  up  to  Bethel,  and  dwell  there ;  and 
build  an  altar  unto  God,  who  answered  you 
in  the  day  of  your  distress,  and  was  with  you 
in  the  way  which  you  went." 

Christians,  ye  who  are  always  strangers 
and  pilgrims  upon  earth,  look  forward  to  a 
heavenly  country. — When  you  have  reached 
home ;  when  you  have  escaped  all  the  dan- 
gers to  which  you  are  now  exposed ;  when 
you  are  possessed  of  all  the  goodness  promis- 
ed you  in  the  word  of  truth — then  no  forget- 
fulness — then  no  need  of  memorials.  All 
your  mercies  will  arise  in  view.  You  will 
perceive  innumerable  instances  of  the  Divine 
goodness,  which  you  are  now  unable  to  dis- 
cover, and  will  be  seen  with  their  enhancing 
qualities  and  circumstances.  You  will  bless 
Him  for  all  the  dispensations  of  his  Provi- 
dence :  for  the  dark,  which  now  perplex ;  for 
the  painful,  which  now  distress  ;  for  the  alarm- 
ing, which  now  terrify. — "  God  of  all  grace, 
and  Father  of  mercy,  thou  hast  answered  me 
in  every  day  of  distress.  Thou  hast  been 
with  me  in  every  way  I  have  travelled.  Thou 
hast  suffered  me  to  want  no  good  thing.  And 
here  I  raise  an  altar,  such  as  I  could  not  rear  in 
yonder  world,  where  I  was  encompassed  with 
infirmities.  Now  I  shall  serve  thee  day  and 
night  in  thy  temple,  without  imperfection, 
and  without  end. — Blessed  are  they  that 
dwell  in  thy  house ;  they  will  be  still  prais- 
ing thee."  Amen. 

SERMON  IV. 

THE  TRIUMPHS  OF  PATIENCE. 

Here  is  the  patience  of  the  Saints. 

Revelation  xiv.  12. 

Did  you  ever  observe,  my  brethren,  the  ex- 
clamation of  David—"  Mark  the  perfect  man, 


SERMON  IV. 


23 


and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  end  of  that 
man  is  peace?  A  religious  character  is  an 
object  truly  wonderful  and  interesting :  there 
is  something  in  him  worthy  of  peculiar  notice 
and  regard.  David  indeed  fixes  the  mind  on 
one  article  only,  and  calls  upon  us  to  consider 
his  "  end."  But  his  way  is  as  remarkable  as 
his  end ;  his  life  is  as  deserving  of  attention 
as  his  death ;  and  it  is  pleasing  and  useful  to 
observe  him  in  every  relation,  to  pursue  him 
through  every  condition,  and  to  admire  those 
excellences  which  unfold  themselves,  and  ope- 
rate as  proofs  of  his  origin,  and  as  pledges  of 
the  "  glory,  and  honour,  and  immortality,"  to 
which  he  tends. 

Hence  we  endeavour  to  excite  you  to  con- 
template successively  his  various  features. 
Sometimes  we  have  placed  him  before  you  as 
convinced  of  sin.  At  other  times,  as  exercis- 
ing faith  on  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  You  have 
seen  him  "  rejoicing  in  the  hope  of  his  call- 
ing."— This  morning  he  appears  among  his 
"  brethren  and  companions  in  tribulation," 
distinguished  by  the  possession  and  triumphs 
of  patience — "Here  is  the  patience  of  the 
saints." — We  shall,  L  Delineate  the  cha- 
racter of  saints. — II.  Explain  the  connex- 
ion THERE  IS  BETWEEN  SAINTS  AND  PATIENCE. 

 iii.  and  specify  some  cases  in  which 

their  patience  is  to  be  rendered  illustri- 
ous, so  as  to  produce  the  exclamation, 
"Here  is  the  patience  of  the  saints." 

Part  I.  God  has  always  a  people  for  his 
name ;  he  owns  them  to  be  saints  ;  and  they 
are  often  found  where  we  should  little  expect 
to  find  them.  Thus  we  read  of  saints  at  Co- 
rinth, of  saints  at  Ephesus,  of  saints  at  Rome, 
and  of  saints  even  "  in  Ca;sar's  household." 

The  title  is  applied  to  persons,  because 
they  are  holy  ones.  And  such  are  all  real 
Christians,  though  encompassed  with  infirmi- 
ties; as  a  child  full  of  weakness  is  human, 
having  the  nature  though  not  the  stature  of  a 
man.    They  are  called  holy  for  two  reasons. 

The  first  is  taken  from  their  dedication  to 
god.  Thus  the  temple  was  holy  ;  the  vessels 
of  the  sanctuary  were  holy;  the  first-fruits 
were  holy :  the  sacrifices  were  holy.  Hence 
Christians  are  called,  the  temple  of  God — ves- 
sels of  honour — the  first-fruits  of  every  crea- 
ture— "  a  sacrifice  holy  and  acceptable."  "  The 
Lord  hath  set  apart  him  that  is  godly  for  him- 
self." He  is  sacred  to  the  Divine  service  and 
honour:  and  if  he  takes  his  talents  and  uses 
them  for  any  other  purpose,  he  is  guilty  of  sa- 
crilege. 

The  second  is  derived  from  their  personal 
renovation. — The  instruments  under  the  law 
were  only  holy  by  appropriation.  No  change 
passed  upon  them — no  change  was  necessary. 
It  is  otherwise  with  us:  for  since  God  finds 
us  in  a  state  wholly  unsuited  to  his  service, 
we  must  be  "  made  meet  for  the"  great  "  Mas- 
ter's use."  Hence  regeneration  is  necessary, 
by  which  we  are  "  renewed  in  the  spirit  of 


our  minds,  and  made  partakers  of  the  Divine 
nature."    God  may  call  an  angel  into  his  pre- 
sence and  immediately  employ  him,  without  a 
change:  he  will  love  the  command,  and  be 
equal  to  the  work.    But  does  he  determine  to 
employ  in  his  service  an  unregenerate  sinner  ? 
— He  is  unqualified ;  he  has  neither  ability, 
nor  inclination;  he  is  destitute  of  the  spiritu- 
ality which  the  work  of  God  requires.  Hence 
the  promise,  "  A  new  heart  also  will  I  give 
you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within  you ; 
and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of 
your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you  an  heart  of 
flesh.    And  I  will  put  my  Spirit  within  you, 
and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes ;  and  ye 
shall  keep  my  judgments,  and  do  them."  And 
with  this  agrees  the  declaration  of  the  Apos- 
tle: "  We  are  his  workmanship,  created  in 
Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God  has 
before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in  them." 
— View  him  then  as  he  comes  from  the  hands 
of  his  New-creator.  There  is  nothing  by  which 
he  is  so  much  distinguished,  as  an  unconquer- 
able concern  for  holiness.  What  does  he  love  ? 
— "I  delight  in  the  law  of  God,  after  the  in- 
ner man."    What  is  his  grief? — "  O  wretch- 
ed man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  !"  What  is  his  prayer  7 
— "  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and  re- 
new a  right  spirit  within  me."    What  is  his 
hope? — That  he  "shall  be  like  Him,  and  see 
him  as  he  is.    And  having  this  hope  in  him, 
he  purifieth  himself  even  as  He  is  pure." — 
Holiness  is  the  Gospel  embodied.    The  saint 
exhibits  it  alive.    The  Gospel  is  holy ;  its 
Author  holy;  its  maxims  and  its  commands, 
holy ;  its  promises,  ordinances,  designs,  holy ; 
and  there  is  nothing  by  which  it  is  so  much 
distinguished  and  glorified,  as  by  the  holiness 
which  pervades  it  My  brethren,  contemplate 
the  subject  in  this  light  more  frequently,  and  do 
not  include  every  thing,  rather  than  holiness, 
in  your  notion  of  the  Gospel.  Do  not  imagine, 
with  some,  that  it  was  designed  to  furnish  a 
substitute  for  holiness ;  and  that  it  will  excuse 
your  being  holy,  provided  you  are  orthodox. 
It  bringeth  salvation,  and  is  intended  to  teach 
you,  "that,  denying  all  ungodliness  and  world- 
ly lusts,  you  should  live  soberly,  righteously, 
and  godly,  in  this  present  world."    And  re- 
member this  important  truth — That  Christians 
are  called  by  the  Gospel  to  be  saints;  that 
you  are  Christians  only  in  proportion  as  you 
are  saints;  and  that  you  are  no  further  saints 
than  you  are  "  holy  in  all  manner  of  conver- 
sation and  godliness." — We  proceed    to  re- 
flect, 

Part  II.  On  the  connexion  there  is  be- 
tween SAINTS  AND  PATIENCE. 

And  first,  Saints  only  have  patience. — 
"  The  Lord  seeth  not  as  man  seeth  ;  for  man 
looketh  on  the  outward  appearance,  but  the 
Lord  looketh  on  the  heart."  In  his  estima- 
tion, principle  and  motive  are  essential  to  the 
goodness  of  action.    A  thing  may  be  materi- 


24 


SERMON  IV. 


ally  good,  when  it  is  not  morally  so.  A  man 
may  give  "  all  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and 
not  have  charity :"  while  a  poor  widow  is 
held  up  as  an  example  of  benevolence,  though 
she  casts  into  the  treasury  but  two  mites.  If 
a  law  were  enacted  against  luxury  and  extra- 
vagance, a  covetous  man  would  be  very  obe- 
dient: but  let  his  avarice,  and  not  the  law, 
have  the  honour  of  his  obedience. — Apply  this 
to  the  case  before  us.  A  man  may  endure, 
and  not  be  patient ;  there  may  be  no  religious 
principle  or  motive  to  influence  him :  it  may 
be  a  careless  indolence ;  a  stupid  insensibili- 
ty ;  a  kind  of  mechanical  or  constitutional  for- 
titude ;  a  daring  stoutness  of  spirit  resulting 
from  fatalism,  philosophy,  or  pride.  Christian 
patience  is  another  thing :  it  is  derived  from 
a  Divine  agency;  it  is  nourished  by  heavenly 
truth ;  it  is  guided  by  Scriptural  rules.  Such 
is  the  patience  of  which  we  are  speaking :  and 
as  this  is  only  to  be  found  in  the  subjects  of 
true  holiness,  so  we  may  observe, 

Secondly,  That  every  saint  possesses  pa- 
tience.— They  do  not  indeed  possess  it  in 
equal  degrees ;  "  for  one  star  differeth  from  an- 
other star  in  glory,"  but  all  are  stars.  All  are 
endued  with  this  virtue.  It  is  one  of  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit ;  it  is  an  essential  part  of  the  Di- 
vine image  restored  in  man.  The  work  of 
God  in  the  soul  is  not  like  a  piece  of  statuary, 
where  one  part  is  finished  while  the  rest  re- 
mains in  the  block ;  but  it  is  a  creation  ;  and, 
imperceptible  as  the  beginning  may  be,  there 
are  found  all  the  parts  which,  increased  and 
developed,  produce  and  display  the  maturity ; 
all  is  advanced  together,  and  all  is  perfect  as 
far  as  the  operation  proceeds. — A  Christian 
may  be  defective  in  his  organs  of  vision  ;  but 
who  would  draw  him  without  eyes  1 — Who 
would  describe  a  saint  without  patience?  I 
wish  this  to  be  remembered  the  more,  because 
there  are  so  many  evangelical  professors  in 
*  our  day  awfully  deficient  in  this  instance : 
their  religion  has  very  little  to  do  with  their 
dispositions.  They  think  it  necessary  for  the 
judgment  to  be  informed,  and  the  practice  to 
be  moral ;  but  from  one  of  these  to  the  other 
religion  is  to  pass  without  touching  the  tem- 
per which  lies  between.  If  they  are  convert- 
ed, it  seems  to  be  from  that  which  is  human 
to  that  which  is  diabolical — they  are  accusers 
of  the  brethren,  proud,  self-willed,  fierce,  re- 
vengeful. Every  trifle  makes  them  explode. 
Saints  in  the  house  of  God,  they  are  demons 
at  home.  How  the  religion  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  Jesus  can  live  with  them,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  determine — nothing  else  can. 

Thirdly,  It  highly  becomes  saints  to  cul- 
tivate patience.  "  The  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great 
price."  It  ennobles  the  possessor.  Some 
have  obtained  honour  by  doing  mischief.  It 
has  been  said  by  a  modern  prelate,  "  One 
murder  makes  a  villain,  a  thousand  a  hero." 
— The  Christian  conqueror  draws  his  glory, 


not  from  the  sufferings  of  others,  but  from  his 
own ;  and  nothing  renders  his  character  more 
impressive  and  useful.  It  recommends  his 
religion.  It  carries  along  with  it  a  peculiar 
conviction.  When  a  Christian  has  met  with 
an  affliction,  that  has  secluded  him  from  the 
duties  of  his  calling,  deprived  him  of  oppor- 
tunities of  exertion,  and  confined  him  to  the 
house  of  grief ;  little  has  he  supposed,  that  he 
was  approaching  the  most  useful  period  of  his 
life.  But  this  has  often  been  the  case :  and 
he  has  rendered  more  service  to  religion  by  suf- 
fering, than  ever  he  did  by  doing.  O  what  a 
theatre  of  usefulness  is  even  a  "  bed  of  lan- 
guishing!" "We  are  a  spectacle  to  angels," 
as  well  as  "  to  the  world  and  to  men."  The 
sufferer  lies  open  to  their  view;  and  the  sight 
of  him — sustained — enduring — glorying  in 
tribulation ;  draws  forth  fresh  acclamations  of 
praise  to  that  God,  whose  grace  can  produce 
effects  so  wonderful. — "  Here  is  the  patience 
of  the  saints."  But  all  his  fellow  creatures 
are  not  excluded ;  there  is  generally  a  circle 
of  relations,  friends,  neighbours,  who  are  wit- 
nesses of  the  scene.  I  appeal  to  their  feel- 
ings. When  you  have  seen  a  Christian  suf- 
fering, in  character,  with  all  the  composure 
and  majesty  of  submission — when  you  have 
heard  him  softly  saying,  "  Though  I  mourn,  I 
do  not  murmur;  why  should  a  living  man 
complain !" — "  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what 
seemeth  him  good;"  "His  ways  are  judg- 
ment ;"  "  He  hath  done  all  things  well ;"  "  I 
see  a  little  of  his  perfection,  and  I  believe  far 
more" — has  not  a  voice  addressed  you — 

"  Now  see  the  man  immortal ;  him  I  mean 
Who  lives  as  such ;  whose  heart,  full  bent  on  heaven, 
Leans  all  that  way;  his  bias  to  the  stars. 
The  world's  dark  shades  in  contrast  set  shall  raise 
His  lustre  more ;  though  bright,  without  a  foil. 
Observe  his  awful  portrait,  and  admire: 
Nor  stop  at  wonder— imitate  and  live." 

Have  you  not  turned  aside,  and  exclaimed, 
What  an  efficacy,  what  an  excellency  in  the 
religion  of  Jesus ! — "Here  is  the  patience  of 
the  saints  !"  This  brings  us, 

Part  III.  To  specify  some  cases  in  which 
the  patience  of  the  saints  is  to  be  rendered 
illustrious  and  striking.  We  shall  mention 
three.  The  first  concerns  provocation — the 
second,  affliction — the  third,  delay.  Here 
patience  is  necessary ;  and  here  we  behold  its 
triumphs. 

First,  it  is  to  be  displayed  in  bearing  pro- 
vocation. "  It  must  needs  be  that  offences 
will  come."  Our  opinions,  reputations,  con- 
nexions, offices,  businesses,  render  us  widely 
vulnerable.  The  characters  of  men  are  various ; 
their  pursuits  and  their  interests  perpetually 
clash.  Some  try  us  by  their  ignorance,  some 
by  their  folly,  some  by  their  perverseness,  some 
by  their  malice.  There  are  to  be  found  per- 
sons made  up  of  every  thing  disagreeable  and 
mischievous ;  born  only  to  vex ;  a  burden  to 
themselves,  and  a  torment  to  all  around  them. 
— Here  is  an  opportunity  for  the  triumph  of 


SERMON  IV. 


85 


patience ;  here  is  a  field  in  which  a  man  may 
exhibit  his  character,  and  appear  a  fretful, 
waspish  reptile,  or  a  placid,  pardoning  god. — 
We  are  very  susceptive  of  irritation  :  anger 
is  eloquent;  revenge  is  sweet:  but  to  stand 
calm  and  collected — to  suspend  the  blow, 
which  passion  was  urgent  to  strike — to  drive 
the  reasons  of  clemency  as  far  as  they  will 
go — to  bring  forward  fairly  in  view  the  cir- 
cumstances of  mitigation — to  distinguish  be- 
tween surprise  and  deliberation,  infirmity 
and  crime — or,  if  an  infliction  be  deemed  ne- 
cessary, to  leave  God  to  be  both  the  judge  and 
the  executioner — this  is  an  excellency  in 
which  a  Christian  should  labour  to  excel. 

His  peace  requires  it.  People  love  to  sting 
the  passionate.  They  who  are  easily  provok- 
ed, commit  their  repose  to  the  keeping  of  their 
enemies;  they  lie  down  at  their  feet  and  in- 
vite them  to  strike.  The  man  of  temper  places 
himself  beyond  vexatious  interruption  and  in- 
sult. "  He  that  hath  no  rule  over  his  own 
spirit,  is  like  a  city  that  is  broken  down  and 
without  walls,"  into  which  enter,  over  the 
ruins,  toads,  serpents,  vagrants,  thieves,  ene- 
mies— while  the  man,  who  in  patience  pos- 
sesses his  soul,  has  the  command  of  himself, 
places  a  defence  all  around  him,  and  forbids 
the  entrance  of  such  unwelcome  company  to 
offend  or  discompose. 

His  wisdom  requires  it.  "  He  that  is  slow 
to  anger  is  of  great  understanding;  but  he 
that  is  hasty  of  spirit  exalteth  folly.  Anger 
resteth  in  the  bosom  of  fools."  Wisdom 
gives  us  large,  various,  comprehensive  views 
of  things  ;  the  very  exercise  operates  as  a  di- 
version, affords  the  mind  time  to  cool,  and  fur- 
nishes numberless  circumstances  tending  to 
soften  severity.  We  read  of  the  meekness  of 
wisdom.  There  is  a  candour  which  springs 
from  knowledge. 

His  dignity  requires  it.  "  It  is  the  glory 
of  a  man  to  pass  by  a  transgression."  "  Be  not 
overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with 
good."  The  man  provoked  to  revenge  is  con- 
quered, and  loses  the  glory  of  the  struggle ; 
while  he  who  forbears,  comes  off  a  victor,  and 
is  crowned  with  no  common  laurels :  for  he 
that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the  migh- 
ty ;  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  than  he  that 
taketh  a  city."  A  flood  assails  a  rock,  and 
rolls  off,  unable  to  make  an  impression ;  while 
straws  and  boughs  are  borne  off  in  triumph, 
carried  down  the  stream,  "  driven  with  the 
wind,  and  tossed." 

It  is  also  required  by  examples  the  most 
worthy  of  our  imitation.  What  provocations 
had  Joseph  received  from  his  brethren !  but 
he  scarcely  mentions  the  crime,  so  eager  is 
he  to  announce  the  pardon  : — "  I  am  Joseph 
your  brother,  whom  ye  sold  into  Egypt.  Now 
therefore  be  not  grieved,  nor  angry  with  your- 
selves that  ye  sold  me  hither;  for  God  did 
send  me  before  you  to  preserve  life." — Hear 
David : — "  They  rewarded  me  evil  for  good, 
D  3 


to  the  spoiling  of  my  soul.  "  But  as  for  me, 
when  they  were  sick,  my  clothing  was  sack- 
cloth: I  humbled  my  soul  with  fasting,  and 
my  prayer  returned  into  my  own  bosom.  I 
behaved  myself  as  though  he  had  been  my 
friend  or  brother  :  I  bowed  down  heavily,  as 
one  that  mourneth  for  his  mother  !" — View 
Stephen,  dying  under  a  shower  of  stones. 
He  more  than  pardons ;  he  prays.  He  is 
more  concerned  for  his  enemies,  than  for  him- 
self:  in  praying  for  himself,  he  stood  ;  in  pray- 
ing for  his  enemies,  he  kneeled :  he  kneeled 
and  said,  "  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their 
charge."  A  greater  than  Joseph,  a  greater 
than  David,  a  greater  than  Stephen,  is  here — 
He  endured  every  kind  of  insult :  but  "  when 
he  was  reviled,  he  reviled  not  again  ;  when 
he  suffered,  he  threatened  not:  but  commit- 
ted himself  to  Him  that  judgeth  righteously." 
Go  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  behold  him 
suffering  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example  that 
we  should  follow  his  steps.  Every  thing 
conspired  to  render  the  provocation  heinous  : 
the  nature  of  the  offence,  the  meanness  and 
obligations  of  the  offenders,  the  righteousness 
of  his  cause,  the  grandeur  of  his  person — all 
these  seemed  to  call  for  vengeance.  The 
creatures  were  eager  to  punish.  Peter  drew 
his  sword.  The  sun  resolved  to  shine  on  such 
criminals  no  longer.  The  rocks  asked  leave 
to  crush  them.  The  earth  trembled  under 
the  sinful  load.  The  very  dead  could  not  re- 
main in  their  graves. — He  suffers  them  all  to 
testify  their  sympathy,  but  forbids  their  re- 
venge :  and  lest  the  Judge  of  all  should  pour 
forth  his  fury,  he  instantly  cries,  "  Father, 
forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do."    "  Here  is  the  patience  of" —  a  God. 

Secondly,  Patience  is  to  be  displayed  in 
suffering  affliction. — "  Man  is  born  to 
trouble,  as  the  sparks 'fly  upwards ;"  and  so  far 
are  the  saints  from  being  exempted,  that  we 
are  informed  "  many  are  the  afflictions  of  the 
righteous."  We  shall  not  describe  them : 
we  have  only  to  inquire  after  the  temper  with 
which  they  are  to  be  borne.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  be  insensible.  There  is  no  virtue  in 
bearing  what  we  do  not  feel.  Grace  takes 
away  the  heart  of  stone,  and  patience  does 
not  bring  it  back.  You  may  desire  deliver- 
ance :  but  these  desires  will  not  be  rash,  in- 
sisting, unconditional ;  but  always  closed  with 
— "  Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou 
wilt."  You  may  employ  means  to  obtain 
freedom ;  but  these  means  will  be  lawful  ones. 
A  suffering  Christian  may  see  several  ways 
of  release,  but  he  seeks  only  God's  way. 
"  He  who  confined  me  shall  bring  me  forth  : 
here  will  I  stand  to  see  the  salvation  of  the 
Lord,  which  he  will  shew  me."  He  would 
rather  endure  the  greatest  calamity,  than 
commit  the  least  sin :  and  while  the  afflic- 
tion remains,  there  is  no  rebellious  carriage, 
|  no  foaming  expressions,  no  hard  thoughts  of 
i  God,  no  charging  him  foolishly.    He  calmly 


20 


SERMON  IV. 


acquiesces  in  a  condition,  of  the  disadvantages 
of  which  he  is  fully  sensible :  his  patience 
keeps  him  in  the  medium  between  presump- 
tion and  despair ;  between  despising  "  the 
chastening  of  the  Lord,  and  fainting  when 
rebuked  of  him  ;"  between  feeling  too  little, 
and  too  much. 

— Here  then  is  another  field,  in  which  pa- 
tience may  gather  glory.    Affliction  comes  to 
exercise  and  illustrate  our  patience.    "  The 
trial  of  your  faith  worketh  patience."    It  does 
so  in  consequence  of  the  Divine  blessing,  and 
by  the  natural  operation  of  things :  for  use 
makes  perfect ;  the  yoke  is  rendered  easy  by 
being  worn ;  and  those  parts  of  the  body  which 
are  most  in  action,  are  the  most  strong  and 
solid.    And  therefore,  you  are  not  to  excuse 
improper  dispositions  under  affliction  by  say- 
ing, "  It  was  so  trying,  who  could  help  it !" 
This  is  to  justify  impatience  by  the  very 
means  which  God  employs  on  purpose  to  make 
you  patient.    Be  assured  the  fault  is  not  in  the 
condition,  but  in  the  temper.    Labour  there- 
fore to  display  this  grace  in  whatever  state  you 
are,  and  however  afflicted  you  may  be.  Im- 
patience turns  the  rod  into  a  scorpion.  Till 
you  wipe  your  eyes  from  this  effusion  of  tears, 
you  cannot  see  what  God  is  doing ;  and  while 
the  noisy  passions  are  so  clamorous,  his  ad- 
dress cannot  be  heard. — Suppose  you  were 
lying  on  a  bed  of  pain,  or  walking  in  the  field 
under  some  heavy  affliction ;  suppose  you 
were  alone  there,  and  heard  a  voice  which  you 
knew  to  be  the  voice  of  God — "  Do  not  ima- 
gine your  case  is  singular.    There  has  been 
sorrow  like  unto  thy  sorrow.    Take  the  pro- 
phets, who  have  spoken  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  for  an  example  of  suffering  affliction, 
and  of  patience.    You  have  heard  of  the  pa- 
tience of  Job.    He  was  stripped  of  all — yet  he 
said,  the  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. — 
What !  shall  we  receive  good  at  the  Lord's 
hands,  and  shall  we  not  receive  evil  ?  Consi- 
der the  unparalleled  sufferings  of  thy  Saviour. 
But  he  said,  The  cup  which  my  Father  giveth 
me  to  drink,  shall  I  not  drink  it? — Do  not 
imagine  these  trials  are  fruits  of  my  displea- 
sure :  as  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chas- 
ten.   I  design  thy  welfare  ;  and  I  know  how 
to  advance  it.   You  have  often  been  mistaken ; 
and  sometimes  you  have  been  led  to  depre- 
cate events,  which  you  now  see  to  have  been 
your  peculiar  mercies.    Trust  me  in  this  dis- 
pensation: reasons  forbid   my  explaining  i 
things  fully  at  present :  what  I  do,  thou  know- 
est  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter.  < 
In  the  mean  time,  be  assured,  I  do  not  afflict 
willingly,  nor  grieve  the  children  of  men. 
These  troubles  are  as  necessary  for  thy  soul,  i 
as  medicine  for  the  body,  as  the  furnace  for  I 
gold,  as  the  knife  for  the  vine.    Be  not  afraid  1 
of  the  affliction  ;  I  have  it  completely  under  I 
my  management;  when  the  end  is  answered  i 
I  will  remove  it.    I  know  how  to  deliver.  I 


!  Till  then,  fear  not,  for  I  am  with  thee ;  b9 
!  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God :  I  will 
■  strengthen  thee ;  yea,  I  will  keep  thee ;  yea, 
i  I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my 
i  righteousness."— O  could  I  hear  this;  this 
would  hush  each  rebellious  sigh,  this  would 
check  every  murmuring  thought.    Is  this 
then  supposition  1  Has  not  God  said  all  this  ] 
Does  He  not  say  all  this  in  his  word. 

Thirdly,  Patience  is  to  be  exercised  under 
delays. — We  as  naturally  pursue  a  desired 
good,  as  we  shun  an  apprehended  evil :  the 
want  of  such  a  good  is  as  grievous  as  the  pres- 
sure of  such  an  evil ;  and  an  ability  to  bear  the 
one,  is  as  needful  a  qualification,  as  the  forti- 
tude by  which  we  endure  the  other.    It  there- 
fore as  much  belongs  to  patience  to  wait,  as  to 
suffer.    We  read  of  "  the  patience  of  hope:" 
for  patience  will  be  rendered  necessary  accord- 
ing to  the  degree  of  hope.    "  Hope  deferred 
maketh  the  heart  sick."    It  is  the  office  of  pa- 
tience to  prevent  this  fainting;  and  God  is 
perpetually  calling  for  the  exercise  of  it. — He 
does  not  always  immediately  indulge  you  with 
an  answer  to  prayer.    He  hears  indeed  as  soon 
as  you  knock,  but  he  does  not  instantly  open 
the  door :  and  to  stand  there,  resolved  not  to 
go  without  a  blessing,  requires  patience ;  and 
patience  cries, "  Wait  on  the  Lord  ;  be  of  good 
courage ;  and  he  shall  strengthen  thine  heart : 
wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord." — He  does  not  ap- 
pear to  deliver  us  according  to  the  time  of  our 
expectation;  and  in  wo  we  number  days 
and  hours.    The  language  of  desire  is,  "  O 
when  wilt  thou  come  unto  me  V  and  of  impa- 
tience,    "  Why  should  I  wait  for  the  Lord 
any  longer  ?" — but  patience  whispers,  "  It  is 
good  that  a  man  should  both  hope,  and  quietly 
wait  for  the  salvation  of  the  Lord." — To  long 
for  pardon,  and  to  feel  only  an  increased  sense 
of  guilt ;  to  implore  relief  and  to  be  able  only 
to  say,  "  Without  are  fightings,  and  within 
are  fears ;"  to  journey  in  a  weary  land,  and 
see  the  way  stretching  out  immeasurably  be- 
fore us,  lengthening  as  we  go ;  to  pursue  bless- 
ings which  seem  to  recede  as  we  advance,  or 
to  spring  from  our  grasp  as  we  are  seizing 
them — all  this  requires  "  patient  continuance 
in  well-doing." — "  We  have  also  need  of  pa- 
tience, that,  after  we  have  done  the  will  of 
God,  we  may  receive  the  promises."    See  the 
Christian  waiting  composedly  year  after  year 
in  a  vale  of  tears  for  an  infinite  happiness !  See 
the  heir  of  such  an  inheritance  resigned  to 
abide  so  long  in  indigence ! — Surely  it  is  try- 
ing to  be  detained  so  many  months  at  anchor  . 
off  the  fair  haven,  the  end  of  his  voyage  in 
view ;  to  have  all  the  glory  of  the  unseen 
world  laid  open  to  the  eye  of  faith ;  the  trials 
of  this  life  to  urge,  and  the  blessings  of  ano- 
ther to  draw  ;  to  have  earnests  to  ensure,  and 
foretastes  to  endear — surely,  there  is  enough 
to  make  him  dissatisfied  to  tarry  here.  And 
it  seems  proper  for  the  Christian  to  be  more 
than  willing  to  go.    Should  an  Israelite  fix  on 


SERMON  V. 


27 


this  side  the  promised  land  ?  Is  fie  not  com- 
manded to  arise  and  depart  hence  ?  Can  he 
love  God,  unless  he  wishes  to  he  with  Him  ? 
Does  not  the  new  nature  tend  towards  its  per- 
fection?— What   wonder,   therefore,  if  we 
should  hear  the  believer  sighing,  "  O  that  I 
had  wings  like  a  dove !  for  then  would  I  flee 
away,  and  be  at  rest.    I  would  hasten  my  es- 
cape from  the  stormy  wind  and  tempest.   Oh  ! 
when  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God? 
When  shall  I  leave  the  dregs  of  society,  and 
join  the  general  assembly  above  ?  When  will 
my  dear  connexions,  gone  before,  receive  me 
into  everlasting  habitations  ?  O  how  I  envy 
them !  O  the  glories  of  yonder  world  !  I  seem 
indistinctly  to  see  the  shining  prize.    I  seem 
to  hear  a  little  of  their  melody — O  how  does 
that  perfume,  blown  across  the  river,  revive 
my  spirits,  and  call  me  away  !"  But  a  voice 
cries,  "  Be  patient,  brethren,  unto  the  coming 
of  the  Lord.    Behold  the  husbandman :  he 
waiteth  for  the  precious  fruits  of  the  earth, 
and  hath  long  patience  for  it,  until  he  receive 


the  former  and  the  latter  rain."    And  the  re-  necessary,  shall  return  for  more ;  but  it  will 


— Labour  strenuously,  not  only  to  acquire 
this  grace,  but  to  excel  in  it.  Seek  higher 
degrees  of  it.  Exercise  it  not  in  one  thing — 
but  in  every  thing,  and  in  every  thing — to 
the  end.  "  Let  patience  have  its  perfect 
work;  that  ye  may  be  perfect  and  entire, 
lacking  nothing."  There  is  a  God  of  pa- 
tience, who  giveth  more  grace.  Approach 
him  with  enlarged  desire,  that  you  may 
abound  in  this  grace  also,  "strengthened 
with  all  might,  according  to  his  glorious 
power,  unto  all  patience  and  long-suffering 
with  joyfulness." 

— And  remember,  you  will  not  always  be 
called  to  the  exercise  of  patience.  Your 
"warfare  will  soon  be  accomplished."  "Yet 
a  little  while,  and  He  that  shall  come  will 
come,  and  will  not  tarry."  A  little  more  pa- 
tience, and  the  wicked  shall  cease  from 
troubling,  and  the  weary  be  at  rest.  A  little 
more  patience,  and  farewell,  provocation,  af- 
fliction, and  anxious  delays.  Patience,  hav- 
ing conducted  you  safe,  and  being  no  longer 


signed  saint  answers,  "  I  pray  not  that  He 
should  take  me  out  of  the  world,  but  keep  me 
from  the  evil.  I  am  willing  to  remain,  while 
He  has  a  station  for  me  to  fill,  a  duty  for  me 
to  perform,  a  trial  for  me  to  bear.  All  the 
days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait,  until 
my  change  come." — "  Here  is  the  patience  of 
the  saints." 

Let  us  learn  then,  my  brethren,  how  ne- 
cessary it  is  for  us  to  possess  this  temper  of 
mind :  it  is  of  perpetual  and  universal  use. 
All  of  you  need  it,  and  will  need  it  always. 
You  do  not  all  need  genius,  learning,  wealth 
— but  what  will  you  do  in  a  world  like  this 
without  patience?  How  can  you  be  prepared 
for  a  succession  of  encounters,  unless  you 
"take  to  yourselves  the  whole  armour  of 
God?"  How  can  you  pass  through  a  wilder- 
ness of  thorns  and  briers,  unless  "  your  feet 
be  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  Gospel  of 
peace?"  Who  can  say,  "  My  mountain  stands 


leave  you  in  a  state  where  all  shall  be  peace, 
all  shall  be  quietness,  all  shall  be  assurance 
for  ever.  O  bless  our  God,  ye  people,  and 

MAKE  THE  VOICE  OF  HIS  PRAISE  TO  BE 
HEARD — FOR  THOU,  O  GOD,  HAST  PROVED  U9  ; 
THOU  HAST  TRIED  US,  AS  SILVER  IS  TRIED  :  WE 
WENT  THROUGH  FIRE  AND  THROUGH  WATER, 
BUT  THOU  BROUGHTEST  US  OUT  INTO  A  WEAL- 
THY PLACE. 


SERMON  V. 


so  strong,  I  shall  never  be  moved  V  "  If  a 
man  live  many  years,  and  rejoice  in  them  all, 
yet  let  him  remember  the  days  of  darkness, 
for  they  shall  be  many :  all  that  cometh  is 
vanity."  How  undesirable  is  a  squeamish  ap- 
petite, that  incessantly  requires  delicacies :  a 
puny  body,  that  can  bear  no  hardships ;  a  ten- 
der frame,  that  must  not  be  exposed  to  the 
variations  of  the  weather:  but  how  much 
worse  is  it  to  have  a  soft,  enervated,  pamper- 
ed constitution  of  mind,  that  must  be  stroked 
or  rocked  like  a  child  ;  that  can  with  extreme 
difficulty  be  pleased;  that  must  have  every 
thing  according  to  its  fancy.  In  a  state, 
where  so  little  is  left  to  choice  and  conven- 
ience, and  where  we  are  liable  to  trials  and 
changes  every  day,  we  should  seek  after  a 
general  preparation  for  our  passage,  and 
strengthen  and  invigorate  the  soul  by — pa- 
tience. 


THE  SUFFERINGS  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR 
NECESSARY. 

for  it  became  Him,  for  -whom  are  all  things, 
and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing  ma- 
ny  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of 
their  salvation  perfect  through  sufferings. 

Hebrews  ii.  10. 


"My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the 
Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than 
the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your 
ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts." 
These  words,  my  brethren,  contain  a  reflec- 
tion always  seasonable,  always  useful,  always 
necessary,  when  we  would  "  regard  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  or  consider  the  operation 
of  his  hand."  It  may  be  exemplified  in  num- 
berless instances,  but  in  none  so  easily  and 
so  fully  as  in  the  redemption  of  the  world  by 
means  of  a  Mediator,  "obedient  unto  death, 
even  the  death  of  the  cross." — The  sun  never 
beheld  such  a  scene.  History  records  no 
such  transaction.  The  scheme  would  never 
have  entered  the  mind  of  any  finite  intelli- 
gence— "  It  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  mar- 
vellous in  our  eyes." — "  It  is  the  wisdom  of 


as 


SERMON  V. 


God  in  a  mystery ;"  and  the  more  we  are  en- 
lightened from  above  to  examine  its  sublime 
contents,  the  more  of  their  perfection  shall 
wc  discover,  the  more  worthy  of  God  will 
they  appear.  "For  it  became  Him,  for 
whom  are  all  thing's,  and  by  whom  are  all 
things,  in  bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to 
make  the  Captain  of  their  salvation  perfect 
through  sufferings." 

L  Behold  the  character  of  the  Su- 
preme   Being  : — "  For    whom    are  all 

THINOS,  AND  BY  WHOM  ARE  ALL  THINGS  j"  the 

original  Cause,  the  final  End,  of  the  whole 
universe  of  being,  material  or  spiritual ;  "  in 
heaven,  or  on  earth ;  visible,  or  invisible ; 
whether  they  be  thrones  or  dominions,  prin- 
cipalities or  powers :  all  things  were  created 
by  Him,  and  for  Him." — Nothing  is  more 
common  for  speakers  and  writers,  when  they 
wisli  to  mention  esteemed  personages,  than 
to  describe,  rather  than  to  name  them.  By 
seizing  in  our  representation  something 
which  has  endeared  or  distinguished  them ; 
by  availing  ourselves  of  some  cpialities  or  ac- 
tions, which  have  given  them  peculiar  and 
superior  claims;  we  can  bestow  deserved 
honour,  and  aid  the  impression  we  desire  to 
make  on  the  minds  of  those  we  address.  The 
admirers  of  poetry  understand  me,  when  I 
say — "  The  Author  of  the  Task."  My  coun- 
trymen feel,  when  I  utter — "  The  Hero  of  the 
Nile."  The  ingenuous  youth  yields,  when  I 
beseech  him  by  the  tears  of  her  "  who  bare 
him." — We  cannot  describe  God  by  what  he 
is  in  himself,  but  by  what  he  is  in  his  re- 
lations, and  in  his  works ;  by  what  he  does  as 
our  Creator  and  Governor ;  as  one  who  owns 
us,  and  may  dispose  of  us  as  he  pleases; — on 
whom  we  entirely  depend,  and  to  whom  we 
are  universally  accountable. 

But  who  can  tell  how  far  this  "  all  things" 
extends  !  Who  can  imagine  the  dimensions 
of  his  empire — the  diversity  of  his  subjects — 
the  infinite  number  of  his  productions,  each  of 
which  is  an  expression  of  his  wisdom,  power, 
and  goodness,  and  a  source  of  revenue  from 
which  his  glory  is  derived  ? 

And  why  this  magnificence  of  description! 
— To  fill  the  mind  with  reverence.  To  raise 
our  expectation.  To  remind  us  of  the  End 
and  Author  of  our  salvation.  To  shew  us  the 
principle  from  which  he  acts :  that  it  is  not 
necessity,  but  kindness;  that  he  cannot  stand 
in  need  of  us,  or  our  services,  being  "  exalted 
above  all  blessing  and  praise" — It  is,  by  a  dis- 
play of  his  majesty,  to  draw  forth  our  admira- 
tion of  his  mercy.  "The  Lord  is  high  above 
all  nations,  and  his  glory  above  the  heavens. 
Who  is  like  unto  the  Lord  our  God,  who 
dwelleth  on  high  :  who  humbleth  himself  to 
behold  the  things  that  are  in  heaven  and  in 
the  earth  !  He  raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the 
dust,  and  lifteth  the  needy  out  of  the  dunghill, 
that  he  may  set  him  with  princes,  even  with 
the  princes  of  his  people."    Contemplate  then 


a  Being,' whose  goodness  equals  his  grandeur. 
Behold  him  seeking  his  glory  in  our  welfare. 
See  him,  regardless  of  all  our  unworthiness, 
and,  before  we  had  expressed  any  desire,  de- 
vising means  to  rescue  us  from  our  ignorance, 
vice,  infamy,  and  misery ;  and  forming  a 
scheme  of  pure  compassion,  designed  to  raise 
us  to  a  state  of  happiness,  superior  to  the  con- 
dition in  which  man  was  originally  placed. 
For, 

II.  Observe  the  end  which  the  God  of  all 
Grace  keeps  in  view — It  is  to  "  bring  many 
sons  unto  glory." — When  of  old  He  detach- 
ed from  the  nations  of  the  earth  a  people  for 
his  name,  he  destined  them  to  possess  the  land 
of  Canaan.    This  promised  country  into  which 
he  engaged  to  bring  them,  excited  the  depart- 
ure of  the  Israelites  from  Egypt,  and  encou- 
raged them  in  all  their  wanderings  in  the 
wilderness.    It  was  a  state  in  which  they  ex- 
pected rest,  peace,  abundance — "  A  land  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey;  a  land  wherein 
there  was  no  scarceness;  a  land  on  which 
the  Lord's  eye  was  from  the  beginning  even 
to  the  end  of  the  year."    But  this  was  only  a 
shadow  of  good  things  to  come  ;  an  emblem 
of  that  "  better,"  that  "  heavenly  country," 
towards  which  "  the  seed  of  Abraham  by 
faith"  are  travelling — where  "  remains  a  rest 
for  the  people  of  God" — where  "  they  shall 
enter  into  peace" — where  they  shall  hunger 
no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more,  neither  shall 
the  sun  light  on  them  nor  any  heat;"forthe 
Lamb,  that  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  shall 
feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living 
fountains  of  waters :  and  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

This  future  blessedness  of  the  righteous  is 
very  commonly  in  the  Scriptures  expressed  by 
"  glory."  It  is  a  state  of  perfection,  of  mag- 
nificence, of  splendour,  of  honour.  It  will  con- 
tain every  kind  of  excellency,  and  every  kind  of 
excellency  displayed.  The  place  will  be  glori- 
ous; the  company  will  be  glorious;  our  bodies 
will  be  glorious;  glorious  will  be  our  work, our 
pleasures,  our  reward,  our  praise.  We  shall 
have  fellowship  with  the  dignified  Redeemer ; 
"  we  shall  be  glorified  together — when  He 
who  is  our  life  shall  appear,  we  shall  also  ap- 
pear with  him  in  glory." 

We  are  reminded  of  the  character  under 
which  we  shall  obtain  this  happiness  :  it  is  for 
"sons" — not  enemies,  not  strangers.  Such 
the  people  of  God  naturally  are ;  but  by  rege- 
neration and  adoption,  he  gives  them  the  qua- 
lity and  the  claims  of  children  ;  and  on  this  re- 
lation the  inheritance  depends — "  If  children, 
then  heirs ;  heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with 
Christ." 

Nor  will  the  possessors  of  it  be  few  in  num- 
ber. The  heavenly  inheritance  is  not  like 
the  earthly  Canaan,  confined  to  the  Jews  on- 
ly :  Gentiles  also  participate.  The  middle 
wall  of  partition  is  broken  down,  and  the 
Gospel  reveals  a  common  salvation,  and  opens 


SERMON  V. 


2U 


a  passage  to  heaven  from  all  the  diversities 
of  human  condition — "  many  sons"  arc  on 
their  way  "  to  glory."  Do  not  diminish  their 
number  by  uncharitable  exclusions,  or  reduce 
it  by  gloomy  suspicions — "  Wot  ye  not  what 
the  Scripture  saith  of  Elias,  how  he  maketli 
intercession  to  God  against  Israel,  saying, 
Lord,  they  have  killed  thy  prophets,  and  dig- 
ged down  thine  altars ;  and  I  am  left  alone, 
and  they  seek  my  life !  But  what  saith  the 
answer  of  God  unto  him  !  I  have  reserved  to 
myself  seven  thousand  men  who  have  not 
bowed  the  knee  to  the  image  of  Baal."  He 
has  always  his  hidden  ones:  many  more 
than  you  are  aware  of,  know  his  name,  and 
love  his  salvation  :  and  though  his  followers 
may  appear  a  small  flock,  if  viewed  in  com- 
parison with  the  ungodly  who  surround  them 
— when  they  shall  "  come  from  the  east,  and 
from  the  west,"  and  shall  be  gathered  toge- 
ther from  "  all  nations,  and  kindred,  and  peo- 
ple, and  tongues;"  they  will  be  found  "a 
great  multitude,  which  no  man  can  number." 
— Such  is  the  purpose  of  grace  which  he  is 
accomplishing;  and, 

III.  Observe  the  means  by  which  he  exe- 
cutes his  design — He  constitutes  Jesus  Christ 

"  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THEIR  SALVATION."  God 

does  nothing  immediately  with  man.  He 
carries  on  all  his  transactions  with  us  through 
a  Mediator.  The  restoration  of  his  people, 
including  their  redemption,  conversion,  per- 
severance, and  future  glory,  is  committed  to 
Him;  and  with  Him  we  have  immediately 
to  do  in  all  the  concerns  of  faith,  holiness,  and 
consolation. 

When  God  would  bring  the  Israelites  into 
the  land  of  promise,  he  placed  them  under 
the  guidance  of  Joshua:  when  he  would 
bring  innumerable  myriads  of  perishing  sin- 
ners to  glory,  he  puts  them  under  the  conduct 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Hence  they  are 
so  often  said  to  be  given  to  him  by  the  Fa- 
ther.— They  are  given  to  him,  not  that  he 
may  receive  benefit  from  them,  but  that  they 
may  receive  benefit  from  him.  As  so  many 
captives,  they  are  given  him  to  ransom  as 
their  Redeemer ;  as  so  many  sheep,  for  him 
to  feed  as  their  Shepherd ;  as  so  many  scho- 
lars, for  him  to  educate  as  their  Teacher ;  as 
so  many  soldiers,  for  him  to  lead  along  to  vic- 
tory and  triumph,  as  "  the  Captain  of  their 
salvation." 

For  the  term  by  which  He  is  here  held 
forth,  carries  with  it  an  implication  that  there 
are  difficulties  to  be  encountered  in  the  way 
to  glory,  and  obstacles  to  be  overcome — 
that  the  Christian  life  is  a  warfare — and  that 
as  soon  as  we  turn  our  "  faces  Zion-ward," 
we  must  expect  to  fight.  With  this  accord 
the  language  of  the  Scripture,  and  the  expe- 
rience of  every  good  man.  And,  my  dear 
hearers,  if  you  think  otherwise,  you  are  de- 
ceived. You  may  go  asleep  to  hell,  but  you 
cannot  go  asleep  to  heaven.  It  is  exertion, 
3* 


opposition,  contention,  every  step  of  the  way. 
Did  they  who  have  gone  before  you  find  reli- 
gion an  easy  thing  !  What  was  their  lan- 
guage ?  "  Lord,  how  are  they  increased  that 
trouble  me  !  Many  there  be  that  rise  up 
against  me  :  many  there  be  which  say  of  my 
soul,  There  isno  help  for  him  in  God."    "  We 
wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against 
principalities,  against  powers,  against  the 
rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  against 
spiritual  wickedness    in  high   places." — 
There  are  some  here  this  morning,  who  are 
compelled  to  use  the  same  language.  Yes, 
"  without  are  fightings,  and  within  are  fears." 
Your  enemies  are   numerous  and  power- 
ful ;  and,  compared  with  them,  you  feel  your- 
selves to  be  nothing.    But  you  are  not  with- 
out encouragement.    Your  "  Redeemer  is 
mighty" — Jesus  is  "  the  Captain  of  your  sal- 
vation." "  He  teaches"  your  "  hands  to  war," 
and  your   "  fingers  to  fight."     He  arrays 
you  in  "  the  whole  armour  of  God."    He  is- 
sues orders,  and  regulates  all  your  motions. 
He  goes  before,  and  animates  you  by  his  own 
example.    He  replenishes  your  strength; 
treads  down  your  enemies  before  you  ;  makes 
you  more  than  conquerors ;  and  gives  you  a 
crown  of  life.    Whence,  "  O  worm  Jacob," 
are  you  so  courageous  1  How  can  you  "  thresh 
the  mountains'!"   The  way  is  distressing; 
the  country  through  which  you  travel  is  for- 
midable— How  will  you  be  able  to  reach  the 
land,  that  is  to  be  given  you,  very  far  off? — 
"Jesus  Christ  is  everything  I  need :  he  is 
given  for  a  leader,  and  a  commander  to  the 
people.    I  place  myself  under  his  care.  He 
will  go  where  I  go ;  and  engage  the  foes  I 
engage.    He  will  leave  me  in  no  situation  : 
his  skill  is  infinite,  his  power  is  almighty. 
He  has  led  thousands,  not  one  failing.  On 
him  I  lean :  because  he  lives,  I  shall  live  al- 
If  I  have  not  struck  a  blow,  I  may  strike 


with  confidence ;  or  if  I  have  fallen  through 
a  blow  received,  I  can  say,  Rejoice  not  against 
me,  O  mine  enemy :  though  I  fall,  I  shall 
arise;  though  I  sit  in  darkness,  the  Lord  will 
be  a  light  unto  me." 

"A  Friend  and  Helper  sodivine 

Does  my  weak  courage  raise, 
He  makes  the  glorious  victory  mine, 

And  bis  shall  be  the  praise." 

The  Jews  always  expected  that  the  Mes- 
siah would  be  "the  Captain  of  their  salva- 
tion :"  they  looked  for  him  in  no  other  cha- 
racter. But,  mistaking  the  nature  of  this 
salvation,  they  grossly  erred  with  regard  to 
the  nature  of  his  work.  They  conceived  of 
him  as  a  temporal  prince,  who  would  rush 
forth  with  his  "  sword  upon  his  thigh,  con- 
quering and  to  conquer ;"  subduing  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth,  and  giving  "  his  people  the 
heritage  of  the  Heathen."  To  their  carnal 
minds,  the  manner  of  his  victory  was  a  para- 
dox. They  could  not  conceive  how  he  could 
overcome  by  dying,  or  by  a  cross  reach  the 


80 


SERMON  V. 


throne :  "  We  have  heard  out  of  the  law  that 
Christ  abideth  for  ever :  and  how  sayest  thou, 
then,  the  Son  of  man  must  be  lifted  up  V — 
But  in  this  way  he  was  "  to  be  crowned  with 
glory  and  honour."  His  sufferings  were  not 
opposed  to  his  exaltation ;  they  led  to  it ;  and 
the  Apostle, 

IV.  Reminds  us  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  obtains  his  distinction,  and  is  prepared  for 
the  discharge  of  his  office — he  "is  made 
perfect  through  sufferings." — The  suffer- 
ings of  the  Saviour  are  described  in  the  Gos- 
pels with  simplicity  and  grandeur  combined. 
Nothing  can  add  to  the  solemnity  and  force 
of  the  exhibition  ;  and  if  we  are  not  affected 
with  the  relation,  it  shews  that  our  hearts  are 
harder  than  the  rocks,  which  could  not  retain 
their  insensibility  wlien  "  the  Lord  of  life  and 
glory"  expired.  The  subject  has  often  come 
under  your  review. — Sometimes  we  have  call- 
ed upon  you  to  consider  his  sufferings  as  pe- 
culiar and  unparalleled  ;  and  you  have  heard 
a  plaintive  Saviour  saying,  "  Is  it  nothing  to 
you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  J  Behold,  and  see  if 
there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sorrow, 
which  is  done  unto  me,  wherewith  the  Lord 
hath  afflicted  me  in  the  day  of  his  fierce  an- 
ger."— We  have  sometimes  considered  his 
sufferings  as  foreknown,  and  led  you  to  ima- 
gine what  were  his  feelings  while  reading 
the  prophecies,  or  foretelling,  himself,  the 
circumstances  of  his  passion.  From  your  eye 
futurity  is  kindly  concealed.  Could  some  of 
you  be  immediately  informed  of  the  troubles 
through  which  perhaps  one  year  only  will  re- 
quire you  to  wade,  you  would  be  overwhelmed 
in  the  prospect.  But  He  saw  the  end  from  the 
beginning,  and  advanced,  with  Judas,  and  the 
high-priest,  and  the  nails,  and  the  cross,  full 
in  view. — You  have  seen  that  his  sufferings 
were  not  the  sufferings  of  an  hour  or  a  day ; 
they  were  perpetual :  from  Bethlehem  to  Cal- 
vary, "he  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  ac- 
quainted with  grief." — You  have  seen  him 
suffering  in  his  condition,  in  his  character,  in 
his  body,  in  his  soul. — You  are  now  led  to  ano- 
ther view  of  the  same  interesting  subject — 
the  accomplishment  which  our  Saviour  deriv- 
ed from  them:  he  was  "  made  perfect  through 
sufferings."  It  may  be  exemplified  in  two 
respects:  first,  by  way  of  discovery ;  secondly, 
by  way  of  qualification. 

In  perusing  history,  what  characters  prin- 
cipally engage,  and  improve  usl  Those  who 
have  struggled  through  trying  and  awful 
scenes.  Read  the  Scriptures  :  fix  your  eyes 
on  Job,  and  Joseph — on  David,  and  Daniel, 
and  Paul.  Were  they  not  all  "  made  perfect 
through  sufferings'!"  The  picture  would  have 
no  beauty  or  effect  without  shades.  It  is  on 
the  rainy  cloud  the  heavenly  bow  spreads  its 
variegated  tints.  The  character  of  the  hero 
is  formed,  and  his  laurels  are  gathered,  only 
in  the  hostile  field,  among  "  the  confused  noise 
of  warriors,  and  garments  rolled  in  blood."  j 


Never  was  the  glory  of  a  prince,  however 
illustrious,  rendered  complete,  without  some 
sudden  reverse  of  fortune,  which  tried  him ; 
some  heavy  calamity,  under  which  he  had 
an  opportunity  to  discover  his  internal  re- 
sources. That  nobility  is  the  truest,  which  a 
man  derives,  not  from  his  pedigree,  but  from 
himself :  that  excellency  is  the  greatest, 
whicli  is  personal :  that  glory  is  the  most  es- 
timable, which  is  fixed  in  our  intellectual  and 
moral  attributes — not  that  whicli  a  man  locks 
up  with  his  cash,  or  puts  by  with  his  ribbon  : 
all  these  are  extrinsical :  they  are  no  parts  of 
the  man  ;  they  are  appendages ;  and  additions 
suppose  deficiencies — he  is  the  most  perfect 
who  needs  them  not.  Suppose  our  Saviour 
had  passed  through  the  world  smoothly,  at- 
tended with  all  the  littleness  of  riches,  and 
the  insignificance  of  pomp ;  how  limited 
would  have  been  his  example  !  bow  insipid 
the  narrative  of  his  life !  how  uninteresting 
his  character ! — If  there  had  been  any  thing 
of  the  beautiful,  there  would  have  been  no- 
thing of  the  sublime.  How  does  he  appear 
"  Christ,  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  the  power  of 
God  ?"  As  "  crucified."  Where  did  he  spoil 
"  principalities  and  powers,  making  a  show  of 
them  openly,  and  triumphing  over  them?" 
On  the  "  Cross."  To  what  period  does  he 
refer,  when  he  says,  "  Now  is  the  judgment 
of  this  world;  now  shall  the  prince  of  this 
world  be  cast  out  7"  The  hour  of  his  death. 
This  he  viewed  as  the  season  in  which  he  was 
to  be  magnified  and  adored — "The  hour  is 
come,  that  the  Son  of  man  should  be  glorifi- 
ed." This  was  the  consummation  of  his  un- 
exampled career  of  excellence :  "  I  must  do 
wonders  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  third 
day  I  must  be  perfected."  Here  is  the  finish  ; 
and  the  wonders  and  miracles  which  attended 
his  sufferings,  were  not  to  be  compared  with 
the  principles  and  graces  which  he  displayed 
in  enduring  them.  Of  what  in  his  history  did 
Moses  and  Elias  speak,  when  they  appeared 
in  the  transfiguration  1  "  They  spake  of 
the  decease  which  he  was  to  accomplish  at 
Jerusalem."  In  what  does  every  Christian 
rejoice  ?  "  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory,  save 
in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  What 
is  the  theme  of  every  minister  ?  "  I  determin- 
ed to  know  nothing,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and 
him  crucified."  What  is  the  language  of  the 
glorified  above  1  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that 
was  slain."  Thus  the  sufferings  of  the  Sa- 
viour were  the  means  of  displaying  the  glo- 
ries of  his  character,  and  of  procuring  for  him 
unbounded  and  everlasting  honours. 

We  are  also  to  consider  him  relatively : 
for  he  interposed  on  our  behalf;  and  having 
engaged  for  a  particular  purpose,  whatever 
qualified  him  for  the  execution  of  it,  tended 
to  make  him  perfect  Hence  a  body  was  pre- 
pared him.  Hence  the  miseries  he  endured. 
"  Forasmuch  then  as  the  children  are  partak- 
ers of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himself  like- 


SERMON  V. 


31 


wise  took  part  of  the  same :  that  through 
death  he  might  destroy  him  that  had  the  power 
of  death,  that  is,  the  Devil;  and  deliver  them 
who,  through  fear  of  death,  were  all  their  life- 
time subject  to  bondage.  For  verily  he  took 
not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels ;  but  he  took 
on  him  the  seed  of  Abraham.  Wherefore 
in  all  things  it  behoved  him  to  be  made  like 
unto  his  brethren;  that  he  might  be  a  merci- 
ful and  faithful  high-priest  in  things  pertain- 
ing to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for  the  sins 
of  the  people."    We  shall  see  more  of  this, 

V.  By  examining  the  reasonableness  and 
expediency  of  such  a  dispensation — "  It  be- 
came Hisi." — In  proportion  to  the  greatness 
of  a  character,  will  be  his  conviction  of  the 
importance  of  order;  and  the  more  necessary 
will  it  be  for  him  to  observe  it;  because  of  the 
number  of  his  relations,  the  diversity  of  his 
connexions,  and  the  influence  of  his  example. 
Order  is  essential  to  virtue  and  to  happiness 
in  creatures;  and  God  himself  is  the  pattern 
of  it.  There  is  nothing  in  him  like  tyranny  : 
he  is  influenced  by  reason.  Though  independ- 
ent, he  is  governed  by  rules ;  though  sove- 
reign, he  submits  to  laws ;  and  only  does 
what  "  becomes  him." 

But  we  are  never  more  liable  to  presump- 
tion and  mistake,  than  when  we  take  upon  us 
to  decide  what  the  Supreme  Being  ought  to 
do;  or  when,  having  laid  down  a  particular 
system,  we  suppose  he  must  conform  to  it,  or 
forfeit  his  character  in  the  eyes  of  the  uni- 
verse. Such  daring  language  we  have  some- 
times heard — but,0  ye  j  udges  of  the  Almighty, 
"  who  hath  known  the  mind  of  the  Lord,  or, 
being  his  counsellor,  hath  taught  him  ]  To 
whom  will  ye  liken  me,  or  shall  I  be  equal, 
saith  the  Holy  One  ? — His  way  is  in  the  sea, 
and  his  path  in  the  great  waters,  and  his  foot- 
steps are  not  known." 

There  is  a  period  approaching,  in  which 
our  capacity  for  examination  will  be  enlarg- 
ed, the  prejudices  which  bias  our  minds  will 
be  done  away,  and  the  plan  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence and  Grace  will  be  accomplished  and 
explained  : — then  the  reasons  of  his  proceed- 
ings will  be  as  satisfactory  to  us,  as  they  will 
prove  honourable  to  him  ;  then  all  that  is  now 
dark  will  be  enlightened,  all  that  is  now 
disorderly  will  be  arranged,  all  that  is  now 
detached  and  scattered  will  be  united  in  one 
beautiful  whole ;  and  we  shall  see  that  no- 
thing was  defective,  nothing  superfluous,  no- 
thing insignificant :  that  every  thing  was  ne- 
cessary—nothing could  be  added  to  it — nothing 
could  be  taken  from  it.  But  it  may  be  asked,  Is 
there  no  satisfaction  to  be  obtained  before  this 
illustrious  period  arrives  1  There  is.  For  if 
we  can  ascertain  that  God  has  pursued  any 
particular  mode  of  action,  we  may  immedi- 
ately infer  the  rectitude  of  it  from  the  ac- 
knowledged perfection  of  the  Divine  charac- 
ter ;  and  there  is  no  medium  between  this, 
and  "  charging  him  foolishly."    He  does  not 


use  means  uncertainly,  or  to  try  their  suc- 
cess :  at  one  view  he  sees  unerringly  his  end, 
and  his  way  to  it.  But  again.  If  He  has 
told  us  himself  that  such  a  step  became  him, 
we  are  bound  to  believe  him,  however  strange 
and  exceptionable  it  may  appear  to  us.  And 
if,  in  addition  to  this,  He  has  condescended  to 
shed  some  light  upon  the  subject,  we  are 
thankfully  to  avail  ourselves  of  it. 

My  brethren,  we  may  apply  all  this  to  the 
subject  before  us.  We  know  He  did  "make 
the  Captain  of  our  salvation  perfect  through 
sufferings,"  and  "  his  ways  are  judgment." 
He  has  expressly  assured  us,  in  his  word, 
that  it  became  him  to  do  so ;  and  as  he  is  not 
mistaken,  so  he  cannot  deceive.  He  has  al- 
so discovered  enough  of  his  motives  to  satisfy 
every  humble  inquirer,  and  to  draw  forth  our 
admiration :  "  O  the  depth  of  the  riches,  both 
of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  !" — But 
all  this  is  too  general.  Let  us  specify  a  few 
particular  reasons  which  he  has  enabled  us  to 
assign,  from  which  the  expediency  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  our  Saviour  will  appear. 

The  first  is  derived  from  the  necessity  of 
experience  in  our  Guide.  For  how  desirable 
was  it  that  he  who  was  appointed  to  lead  us 
to  glory,  should  himself  be  personally  ac- 
quainted with  the  dangers,  difficulties,  and 
trials,  to  which  his  followers  are  exposed  in 
their  way  thither !  Nothing  would  so  power- 
fully engage  the  confidence  which  we  are  to 
place  in  him.    Experience  in  every  case  en- 
courages application  and  dependence.  But 
see  the  afflicted.    It  is  not  to  the  gay  and 
prosperous,  but  to  those  who  have  been  in 
misery  themselves,  that  they  approach  with 
pleasure,  and  with  a  conviction  that  they  shall 
not  be  heard  in  vain,  when  they  cry,  "  Pity 
me,  pity  me,  O  ye  my  friends;  for  the  hand 
of  God  hath  touched  me."    Sympathy  is  pro- 
duced and  cherished  by  experience.    If  you 
have  endured  the  sorrow  under  w  hich  you  be- 
hold a  fellow-creature  labouring,  you  can  en- 
ter into  his  views,  feel  his  sensations,  and 
weep  with  him.    Who  are  the  most  kind  and 
humane  !  Those  who  have  been  much  in  the 
school  of  affliction.    There  the  social  and  ten- 
der affections  are  nurtured.    "Be  kind  to 
strangers,"  says  God  to  Israel :  why  ]  "  for 
ye  know  the  heart  of  a  stranger,  for  ye  were 
strangers  in  a  strange  land."    The  high-priest 
under  the  law  was  "  taken  from  among  men, 
that  he  might  have  compassion  on  .the  igno- 
rant, and  on  them  that  are  out  of  the  way, 
for  that  he  himself  also  is  compassed  with  in- 
firmity."   All  this  is  grandly  applicable  to 
our  Lord  and  Saviour ;  "for  in  that  he  himself 
hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able  to 
succour  them  that  are  tempted."  Though 
his  state  is  changed,  his  nature  is  the  same ; 
"for  we  have  not  an  High  Priest  which  can- 
not be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  in- 
firmities, but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as 
we  are,  yet  without  sin."   This  opens  a 


33 


SERMON  V. 


source  of  exquisite  consolation;  and  we  feel 
the  pleasing  motive — "  Let  us  therefore  come 
boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may 
obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time 
of  need."  He  "  knows  your  sorrows."  Are 
you  poor  ?  He  knows  your  indigence ;  not 
like  some  of  your  wealthy  neighbours,  who 
may  accidentally  hear  of  it  by  report,  while 
they  are  indulging  only  in  luxury — He  was 
poor :  "  foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the 
air  have  nests,  but  the  Son  of  man  had  not 
where  to  lay  his  head."  Do  you  suffer  re- 
proach ;  and  are  things  laid  to  your  charge 
which  you  know  not ?  He  sees  you,  who  was 
once  deemed  "  a  glutton,  and  a  wine-bibber, 
a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  a  Samaritan, 
one  who  had  a  devil,  a  stirrer  up  of  the  peo- 
ple." Do  you  feel  evil  suggestions?  The 
enemy  approached  him : 

"He  knows  what  sore  temptations  mean, 
For  he  has  felt  the  same." 

Are  you  looking  forward  to  the  hour  of  death  ? 
Your  fellow  Christians,  and  your  ministers, 
endeavour  to  sustain  and  to  soothe  you :  but 
all  this  comes  from  persons  who  have  no  ex- 
perience— they  know  not  what  it  is  to  die — 
but  One  will  be  near,  "  to  comfort  you  upon 
your  bed  of  languishing,"  who  has  passed 
through  the  trying  scene ;  who  knows  the 
feelings  of  human  nature  in  the  separa- 
tion of  soul  and  body:  in  leaving  beloved 
friends  and  relations — 

A  second  reason  is  to  be  derived  from  his 
example.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  shew 
us  the  influence  of  holiness  in  a  state  of  suf- 
fering. Afflictions  are  unavoidable ;  they 
occupy  a  large  proportion  of  life,  and  of  god- 
liness ;  many  parts  of  religion  relate  entirely 
to  suffering,  and  every  part  receives  a  lustre 
from  it.  The  Christian  is  more  formed  from 
his  trials,  than  from  his  enjoyments.  But  we 
are  like  bullocks  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke ; 
we  are  unskilled  in  the  science  of  passive 
obedience ;  even  after  the  experience  of  years 
of  sorrow,  we  know  little  of  the  holy  mystery 
"  of  suffering  affliction  and  of  patience."  We 
need  instruction : — "  How  am  I  to  carry  the 
cross  ?  How  can  I  render  it  one  of  my  chief 
blessings?  What  dispositions  am  I  to  exer- 
cise towards  God,  who  is  the  Author  of  this 
trouble  ?  or  towards  men,  who  are  the  in- 
struments of  it?  How  must  I  regulate  my 
thoughts,  words,  and  carriage  ?  Am  I  forbid- 
den to  feel,  as  well  as  to  murmur  ?  Must  I  in- 
dulge no  desire,  use  no  means  of  relief  ?"  Go, 
anxious  inquirer,  and  contemplate  him  who 
"suffered  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example  that 
we  should  follow  his  steps."  See  him  en- 
during every  indignity — but  "  when  he  was 
reviled,  he  reviled  not  again ;  when  he  suf- 
fered, he  threatened  not,  but  committed  him- 
self to  Him  that  judgeth  righteously."  Hear 
his  prayer  for  his  murderers — "  Father,  for- 
give them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 
Mark  his  language  in  the  garden — "  Father, 


if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me: 
nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt." 
In  all  this  he  does  not  so  much  dazzle  as 
guide.  Here  are  none  of  those  high-flown 
rhapsodical  expressions,  which  proud  philoso- 
phy has  often  placed  in  the  mouths  of  its 
heroes:  he  affects  no  insensibility  of  pain;  no 
indifference  to  suffering.  We  see  humanity 
with  all  its  natural  feelings — only  these  feel- 
ings held  under  the  empire  of  reason  and  of 
grace. — "  Let  the  same  mind  be  in  you 
which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus." 

A  third  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  de- 
monstration which  his  sufferings  gave  us  of 
the  Divine  benevolence.    Awakened  souls 
find  it  no  easy  thing  to  believe  in  God. 
Conscious  of  the  wrong  their  sins  have  done 
him,  and  judging  of  the  Supreme  Being  by 
themselves,  it  is  hard  to  persuade  th.eir  guilty 
minds  that  God  is  ready  "  to  be  pacified  to- 
wards them  for  all  their  abominations  ;"  and 
that,  after  such  provocations,  he  is  willing  to 
"  receive  them  graciously,  and  love  them 
freely."    Now  I  cannot  love  God,  till  He  ap- 
pears lovely.    I  shall  never  approach  him, 
till  I  hope  in  him.    Hidden  among  the  trees 
of  the  garden,  whither  my  fears  have  driven 
me,  it  is  only  the  voice  of  mercy  that  can  call 
me  forth.    It  is  confidence  alone  that  can 
bring  me  back  to  God:  this  is  the  simple 
principle  of  our  restoration  ;  till  this  be  gain- 
ed, nothing  can  be  effected.    To  place  him- 
self before  us  in  this  encouraging  view ;  to 
shew  us  in  himself  an  accessible  refuge,  as 
soon  as  ever  we  feel  our  danger  and  our  mi- 
sery ;  to  keep  us  from  turning  again  to  folly 
by  the  desperate  conclusion,  "there  is  no 
hope ;"  to  scatter  all  our  misgiving  fears,  and 
to  allure  us  into  his  presence — he  was  pleas- 
ed to  sacrifice  his  own  Son.    The  inference 
is  easily  drawn  : — "  He  that  spared  not  his 
own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  He  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all 
things  ?  We  behold  indeed  the  love  of  God 
in  his  incarnation,  but  much  more  in  his  suf- 
ferings :  these  suppose  the  former,  and  add 
to  it.    If  he  will  take  one  so  dear  to  him, 
one  so  worthy,  one  who  always  did  the  things 
which  pleased  him,  and  bring  him  through 
such  a  depth  of  suffering  rather  than  we 
should  perish,  we  are  convinced  that  he  will 
not  refuse  pardon  and  grace  to  returning  sin- 
ners.   And  to  this,  the  sacred  writers  call 
our  attention,  when  they  would  magnify  the 
goodness  of  God :  "  Herein  is  love ;  not  that 
we  loved  God,  but  that  he  loved  us,  and  gave 
his  Son  to  be  a  propitiation  for  our  sins.  God 
hath  commended  his  love  towards  us,  in  that 
while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us. 
Much  more  then,  being  now  justified  by  his 
blood,  we  shall  be  saved  from  wrath  through 
him.    For  if  when  we  were  enemies  we 
were  reconciled  unto  God  by  the  death  of  his 
Son ;  much  more,  being  reconciled,  we  shall 
be  saved  by  his  life." 


SERMON  VI. 


38 


Behold  a  fourth  reason.  As  Divine  Good- 
ness acts  in  harmony  with  every  other  per- 
fection of  his  nature,  the  sufferings  of  our  Sa- 
viour were  designed  to  display  the  glory  of 
God,  as  the  moral  ruler  of  the  universe.  There 
is  no  governing  without  laws ;  laws  are  no- 
thing without  sanctions.  If  the  penalty  at- 
tached to  the  law  of  God  be  founded  in  equity 
— and  were  it  otherwise,  how  could  he  have 
annexed  it] — does  not  the  same  principle 
which  led  him  to  propose  it,  constrain  him  to 
maintain  it  1  Suppose  a  governor,  when  he 
establishes  a  new  system  of  legislation,  were 
to  issue  a  proclamation,  that  whoever  trans- 
gressed it  should  be  pardoned  upon  his  repent- 
ance and  reformation — would  not  this  disarm 
the  law  of  all  its  terrors,  and  rather  encourage 
than  repress  the  violation  of  it?  Is  the  Gos- 
pel such  an  enemy  to  the  law !  "  Do  we  by 
faith  make  void  the  law1?  Yea,  we  establish 
the  law."  We  do  not  however  on  this  subject 
go  all  the  lengths  into  which  some  advance. 
We  would  not "  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Isra- 
el." It  does  not  become  us  to  affirm  that  he 
could  not  have  pardoned  sin  without  an  atone- 
ment. Let  us  remember,  the  Supreme  Ma- 
jesty is  accountable  to  none ;  let  us  not  try  to 
fix  the  bounds  of  absolute  prerogative.  Our 
Saviour  in  the  garden  does  indeed  intimate 
that  the  cup  could  not  pass  from  him:  but  he 
resolves  this  impossibility  into  the  will  of  God. 
It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know  that  in  this  way 
God  chose  to  glorify  his  perfections,  and  that 
to  us  no  other  way  appears,  in  which  we 
could  have  had  an  equal  display  of  the  Divine 
attributes.  Justice  could  have  seized  the 
transgressor,  or  mercy  could  have  spared  him ; 
but,  in  the  case  before  us,  both  justice  and 
mercy  are  blended  in  their  exercise :  we  see 
the  one  in  requiring  this  mediation,  the  other 
in  providing  it.  The  law  is  secured,  and  the 
offender  too.  Sin  is  condemned,  and  the  sin- 
ner pardoned;  and  God  neither  beholds  the 
iniquity,  nor  the  misery  of  man. — These  we 
conceive  to  be  a  few  of  the  reasons  why  "  it 
became  him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by 
whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing  many  sons 
unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their  sal- 
vation perfect  through  sufferings." 

We  close  the  subject  with  two  reflections. 
First,  Let  not  Christians  think  it  "  strange" 
if  they  should  be  called  to  suffer. — Let  them 
learn,  "  how  to  be  abased,  as  well  as  how  to 
abound:"  let  them  determine  to  pass  "  through 
evil  report,  as  well  as  good  report;"  and  be 
willing  to  deny  themselves,  and  take  up  their 
cross,  and  follow  him.  The  Gospel  does  not 
deceive  us :  it  informs  us  only  of  one  way,  by 
which  we  can  reach  the  crown.  In  this  we 
see  all  our  brethren  walking,  and  our  elder 
Brother  going  before  them.  But  we  are  look- 
ing for  a  smoother  passage.  We  would  be 
children,  and  not  chastised;  gold,  and  not 
tried ;  soldiers,  and  not  "  endure  hardness ;" 
Christians,  and  not  like  Christ.    Are  the 


members  to  have  no  sympathy  with  the  suf- 
fering Head  !  Are  you  not  chosen  to  "  be  con- 
formed to  his  image  ?."  Observe  his  likeness  : 
see  his  sorrowful  features ;  how  "  his  visage 
is  marred  more  than  any  man's,  and  his  form 
than  the  sons  of  men." — Can  you  resemble 
him,  and  not  suffer?  Is  it  not  an  honour  to 
have  fellowship  with  him  in  his  sufferings  ? 
Would  you  wish  for  the  friendship  of  that 
world,  whose  malice  he  continually  bore! 
Would  you  only  have  ease,  where  he  only 
had  trouble?  or  nothing  but  honour,  where 
he  had  nothing  but  disgrace  ?  Would  you 
reign  with  him,  and  not  suffer  with  him  ?  Can 
the  common  soldier  complain,  when  he  sees 
the  commander  enduring  the  same  privations 
with  himself?  "  The  disciple  is  not  above  his 
master,  nor  the  servant  above  his  lord :  it  is 
enough  for  the  disciple,  that  he  be  as  his 
master,  and  the  servant  as  his  lord."  But, 
ah !  what  are  your  sufferings  compared  with 
his?  Are  you  oppressed ? — Look  before  you, 
and  see  him  carrying  a  cross  infinitely  hea- 
vier ;  carrying  it  for  you ;  carrying  it  without 
a  groan !  "  Consider  him  that  endured  such 
contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself,  lest 
ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds." 

Secondly,  if  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were 
so  variously  useful  and  necessary,  and  of  such 
high  importance  in  the  view  of  God — can  mi- 
nisters dwell  too  much  upon  them  in  their 
preaching  ?  Can  Christians  estimate  them  too 
highly,  or  make  too  much  of  them  in  their 
meditations,  and  in  the  exercises  of  their  faith 
and  of  their  devotion  ?  And  if  an  ordinance 
be  established  in  the  Church  as  a  memorial  of 
his  sufferings,  should  they  not  thankfully  em- 
brace every  opportunity  of  attending  it? 

Such,  Christians,  is  the  institution  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  of  which  you  are  going  to  par- 
take.— Approach,  and  in  lively  memorials  be- 
hold "  Jesus  Christ  evidently  set  forth,  cru- 
cified among  you."  "  For  as  oft  as  ye  eat  this 
bread,  and  drink  this  cup,  ye  do  shew  forth  the 
Lord's  death  till  he  shall  come."  Draw  near, 
and  looking  on  him  who  was  pierced  by  you, 
and  for  you,  mourn  and  rejoice.  Draw  near, 
and  exercise  faith,  aided  even  by  the  medium 
of  sense ;  and  of  the  best  Object  take  the  best 
view  it  is  in  your  power  to  enjoy — till  "  you 
shall  see  him  as  he  is,"  and  joining  a  nobler 
assembly,  shall  sing  the  song  which  you  are 
loving  and  learning  now — "  Unto  Him  that 
loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his 
own  blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests 
unto  God  and  his  Father,  be  glory  and  domi- 
nion for  ever  and  ever.  Amen." 


SERMON  VI. 


THE  YOUNG  ADMONISHED. 
Ifearthe  Lord  from  my  youth.— I  Kings  xviii.  12. 

These  are  the  words  of  Obadiah.  From 
his  situation  and  office,  he  appears  to  have 


■HI 


SERMON  VI. 


been  a  person  of  some  distinction,  for  "  lie 
was  the  governor  of  Ahab's  house."  But  what 
we  admire  in  him,  is — The  piety  that  marked 
his  character.  "  He  feared  the  Lord  greatly ;" 
and  gave  evidence  of  it  in  a  season  of  extreme 
danger:  "For  he  took  an  hundred  prophets, 
and  hid  them  by  fifty  in  a  cave,  and  fed  them 
witli  bread  and  water."  And  as  his  religion 
was  superior  in  its  degree,  so  it  was  early  in 
its  commencement.  For  says  he,  in  his  ad- 
dress to  Elijah,  "  I  fear  the  Lord  from  my 
Younr."  And  herein,  my  young  friends,  we 
propose  him  this  evening  as  your  example. — 
In  your  imitation  of  him,  many  are  concerned, 
though  none  are  so  deeply  interested  as  your- 
selves. 

— The  preacher  who  addresses  you  is  con- 
cerned, lie  longs  "  after  you  all  in  the  bow- 
els of  Jesus  Christ."  Indeed,  if  ministers 
desire  to  be  useful,  they  cannot  be  indiffer- 
ent to  you.  You  would  prove  best  help- 
ers; you  would  rouse  the  careless;  you 
would  reproach  those  of  riper  years ;  you 
would  decide  the  wavering  minds  of  those 
who  are  of  the  same  age  with  yourselves. 
It  is  in  your  power  to  build  up  our  churches, 
and  to  change  the  moral  face  of  our  neigh- 
bourhood. "  The  wilderness  and  the  solitary 
place  shall  be  made  glad"  for  you,  "  and  the 
desert  shall  rejoice,  and  blossom  as  the  rose." 

— Behold  standing  near  your  preacher,  your 
friends,  your  relations,  your  parents,  hearing 
for  you  with  trembling,  and  prayers,  and  tears. 
Thy  father  is  saying,  "  My  son,  if  thou  be 
wise,  my  heart  shall  rejoice,  even  mine."  The 
woman  who  bare  thee  is  saying,  "  What,  my 
son,  and  what  the  son  of  my  womb,  and  what 
the  son  of  my  vows  !" 

— Behold  too  your  fellow  citizens,  your 
countrymen.  I  imagine  all  those  assembled 
here  this  evening,  with  whom  you  are  to  have 
any  future  connexions,  by  friendship,  by  alli- 
ance, by  business ;  whose  kindred  you  are  to 
espouse,  whose  offices  you  are  to  fill — these  I 
ask — Is  it  a  matter  of  indifference,  whether 
the  rising  generation  be  infidel  and  immoral, 
or  influenced  by  conscience,  and  governed  by 
the  fear  of  God  !  Where  is  the  person,  who  has 
any  regard  for  the  welfare  of  the  nation,  for  so- 
cial order,  for  relative  life,  for  personal  happi- 
ness, who  would  not  immediately  exclaim, 
"  Rid  me  and  deliver  me  from  the  hand  of 
strange  children ;  whose  mouth  speaketh  va- 
nity, and  their  right  hand  is  a  right  hand  of 
falsehood:  that  our  sons  may  be  as  plants 
grown  up  in  their  youth ;  and  that  our  daugh- 
ters may  be  as  corner-stones,  polished  after 
the  similitude  of  a  palace." 

— Behold  the  blessed  God  looking  down  from 
heaven,  advancing  his  claims,  and  urging  the 
language  of  command,  and  of  promise :  "  Re- 
member thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth 
They  that  seek  me  early,  shall  find  me." 

— These  are  parties  concerned  in  the  suc- 
cess of  this  endeavour.  But,  my  young  friends, 


there  are  characters  here  more  deeply  inte- 
rested than  all  these — They  are  yourselves. 
To  be  pious  in  early  years,  is  to  be  "  wise  for 
yourselves  :"  it  is  your  privilege,  shall  I  say, 
more  than  your  duty  ? — Yes,  the  gain  will  be 
principally  your  own.  How  shall  I  convince 
you  of  this  .'  How  shall  I  make  you  feel  the 
importance  of  it  1  Let  me  take  three  views  of 
the  subject. — We  shall  consider  youth,  as 

THE  MOST  FAVOURABLE  SEASON  IN  WHICH  TO 
COMMENCE  A  RELIGIOUS  COURSE — SHEW  THE 
BENEFICIAL  INFLUENCE  OF  EARLY  PIETY  OVER 

YOUR  FUTURE   LIFE  AND   EXAMINE,   IN  THIS 

AWFUL  CONCERN,  THE  CONSEQUENCES  OF  PRO- 
CRASTINATION. 

Part  I.  If,  unhappily,  the  wickedness  of 
any  of  our  more  aged  hearers  should  have 
rendered  infidelity  necessary,  and  they  should 
have  abandoned  a  system  hostile  only  to  sin; 
"  we  are  persuaded,"  my  young  friends,  "  bet- 
ter things  of  you."  We  presume  that  you  are 
all  ready  to  acknowledge  the  importance  of 
religion,  and  that  if  any  of  you  were  asked 
whether  you  had  resolved  never  to  pursue  it, 
but  to  live  and  die  in  the  neglect  of  it,  you 
would  be  shocked  at  the  question.  Since  then 
you  believe  godliness  to  be  the  one  thing  need- 
ful, and  determine  on  a  religious  course,  I 
would  propose  youth  as  the  most  favourable 
season  in  which  to  commence  it. 

It  is,  first,  a  period  which  presents  the  few- 
est obstacles. — It  is  far  from  my  design  to  hold 
forth  real  religion  as  an  easy  thing  at  any  pe- 
riod of  life.  I  believe  the  doctrine  of  human 
depravity;  I  know  the  images  the  sacred 
writers  employ,  to  describe  the  arduous  na- 
ture of  the  spiritual  life ;  I  hear  our  Saviour 
saying,  "Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate ; 
for  many  will  seek  to  enter  in  and  shall  not  be 
able."  But  if  there  be  difficulties,  these  diffi- 
culties will  increase  with  our  years;  and  the 
season  of  youth  will  be  found  to  contain  the 
fewest  obstacles,  whether  we  consider  your 
external  circumstances,  your  natural  powers, 
or  your  moral  habits.  Now,  you  are  most 
free  from  those  troubles  which  will  embitter, 
from  those  cares  which  will  perplex,  from 
those  schemes  which  will  engross,  from  those 
engagements  which  will  hinder  you,  in  more 
advanced  and  connected  life.  Now  the  body 
possesses  health  and  strength  ;  the  memory 
is  receptive  and  tenacious;  thi  fancy  glows; 
the  mind  is  lively  and  vigorous.  Now  the 
understanding  is  more  docile ;  it  is  not  crowd- 
ed with  notions;  it  has  not,  by  continued  at- 
tention to  one  class  of  objects,  received  a  di- 
rection from  which  it  is  unable  to  turn,  to  con- 
template any  thing  else,  without  violence: 
the  brain  is  not  impervious  ;  all  the  avenues 
to  the  inner  man  are  not  blocked  up.  To 
cure  a  dead  man,  and  to  teach  an  old  one,  says 
a  heathen  philosopher,  are  tasks  equally  hope- 
less.— Now,  the  soul  is  capable  of  deeper  and 
more  abiding  impressions;  the  affections  are 
more  easily  touched  and  moved;   we  are 


SERMON  VI. 


35 


more  accessible  to  the  influence  of  joy  and  sor- 
row, hope  and  fear :  we  engage  in  an  enter- 
prise with  more  expectation,  and  ardour,  and 
zeal.  Evil  dispositions  also  grow  with  time 
and  are  confirmed  by  exercise.  "Can  the 
Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his 
spots  !  then  may  ye  also  do  good,  that  are  ac- 
customed to  do  evil."  A  man  wishes  to  era- 
dicate— but  is  his  task  likely  to  become  easi- 
er by  suffering  the  shrub  to  grow  year  after 
year  till  it  becomes  a  tree,  and  is  so  deep  root- 
ed as  to  defy  even  a  storm'!  A  disorder  has 
seized  the  body — but  common  sense  says, 
Take  it  in  titne ;  send  immediately  for  aid : 
by  continuance,  it  becomes  inveterate,  and 
baffles  the  skill  and  the  force  of  medicine.  An 
enemy  has  declared  war — but  is  he  a  friend 
who  advises  you,  instead  of  advancing  for- 
ward, and  seizing  the  most  advantageous  posi- 
tions, to  remain  inactive,  till  the  adversary, 
striding  on,  gains  pass  after  pass,  and  fortifies 
for  himself  what  he  has  taken  from  you — till 
he  spreads  over  your  territory,  and  subsists 
at  your  expense,  or  with  impoverished  re- 
sources compels  you  to  risk  every  thing  on 
the  issue  of  one  desperate  encounter  !  Who 
is  the  person  intended  by  all  these  representa- 
tions of  folly  1  You,  O  young  man,  who  by 
your  delays  are  increasing  an  hundred  fold  all 
the  obstacles  of  a  religious  life. 

Secondly,  The  days  of  youth  are  of  all 
others  the  most  honourable  period  in  which  to 
begin  a  course  of  godliness. — Under  the  legal 
ceconomy,  the  first  were  to  be  chosen  for 
God — the  FiitsT-born  of  man ;  the  FiRST-born 
of  beasts;  the  FiRST-fruits  of  the  field.  It  was 
an  honour  becoming  the  God  they  worshipped, 
to  serve  him  first.  This  duty,  my  young 
friends,  you,  and  you  alone  can  spiritualize 
and  fulfil,  by  giving  Him,  who  deserves  all 
your  lives,  the  first-born  of  your  days,  and  the 
first-fruits  of  your  reason,  and  the  prime  of 
your  affections.  And  never  will  you  have 
such  an  opportunity  to  prove  the  goodness 
of  your  motives,  as  you  now  possess — "Now," 
says  God,  "  I  know  that  thou  fearest  me." — 
But  see  an  old  man  :  what  does  he  offer!  His 
riches  1 — but  he  can  use  them  no  more.  His 
pleasures ! — but  he  can  enjoy  them  no  longer. 
His  honour ! — but  it  is  withered  on  his  brow. 
His  authority? — but  it  has  dropped  from  his  fee- 
ble hand. — He  leaves  his  sins ;  but  it  is  be- 
causethey  will  no  longer  bear  him  company. 
He  flies  from  the  world  ;  but  it  is  because  he 
is  driven  out.  He  enters  the  temple ;  but  it 
is  as  a  sanctuary  :  it  is  only  to  take  hold  of  the 
horns  of  the  altar:  it  is  a  refuge,  not  a  place 
of  devotion,  he  seeks : — and  need  we  wonder 
if  he  should  hear  a  voice  from  the  most  excel- 
lent glory — "  Ye  have  brought  that  which  was 
torn,  and  the  lame,  and  the  sick:  thus  ye 
brought  an  offering :  Should  I  accept  this  of 
jronr  hands  1  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Butcurs- 
ed  be  the  deceiver,  who  hath  in  his  flock  a 
male,  and  voweth,  and  sacrificeth  unto  the 


Lord  a  corrupt  thing:  for  I  am  a  great  King, 
saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  my  name  is  dread- 
ful among  the  heathen." — But  you  who  con- 
secrate to  him  your  youth — you,  do  not  pro- 
fanely tell  him  to  suspend  his  claims  till  the 
rest  are  served ;  and  till  you  have  satisfied 
the  world  and  the  flesh,  his  degrading  rivals. 
You  do  not  send  him  forth  to  gather  among 
stubble  the  gleanings  of  life,  after  the  enemy 
has  secured  the  harvest.  You  are  not  like 
those,  who,  if  they  reach  Immanuel's  land,  are 
forced  thither  by  shipwreck.  You  sailed  thi- 
ther by  intention  :  when  you  weighed  anchor, 
you  thought  of  it;  it  was  "the  desired  ha- 
ven." You  do  not  shun  the  world  after  a  long 
experience  of  its  vanity  and  vexation  ;  but  you 
have  the  honour  of  believing  the  testimony  of 
God  concerning  it,  and  of  deciding  without  a 
trial.  You  do  not  yield  to  God  when  every 
other  solicitor  is  gone :  but  you  adore  him 
while  you  are  admired  by  others;  and,  guard- 
ing your  passions  and  senses,you  press  through 
a  thousand  allurements,  saying,  "  Whom  have 
I  in  heaven  but  Thee,  and  there  is  none  upon 
earth  that  I  desire  beside  Thee."  Religion  is 
always  an  ornament :  it  does  not.  refuse  age ; 
but  it  looks  exquisitely  attractive  and  suitable 
when  worn  by  youth.  In  the  old,  it  is  alone  ;, 
it  is  a  whole :  it  decorates  wrinkles  and  ruins. 
In  the  young,  it  is  a  connexion  and  a  finish : 
it  unites  with  bloom,  it  adds  to  every  accom- 
plishment, gives  a  lustre  to  every  excellency, 
and  a  charm  to  every  grace.  And  as  our  early 
years  furnish  a  season,  in  which  to  commence 
a  religious  life,  attended  with  the  fewest  dif- 
ficulties, and  productive  of  the  highest  hon- 
our ;  so  it  is, 

Thirdly,  the  most  profitable;  and  at  no 
other  period  can  we  begin  so  advantageous- 
ly.— It  requires  no  laboured  reasoning  to 
prove  this.  Only  admit  that  there  are  in- 
numerable benefits  inseparable  from  reli- 
gion; that  "her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all  her  paths  are  peace" — that 
"godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things,  hav- 
ing promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of 
that  which  is  to  come" — and  the  sooner  it  is 
embraced,  the  longer  will  the  privilege  be 
enjoyed.  Every  hour  of  neglect,  is  an  hour 
of  loss.  Can  you  be  happy  too  soon  !  Is  it 
desirable  to  "feed"  another  day  "upon 
ashes,"  while  "  angels'  food"  is  placed  with- 
in your  view,  and  within  your  reach?  If 
there  be  innumerable  evils  inseparable  from 
sin ;  if  "  the  way  of  transgressors  be  hard  f 
if  there  be  "  no  peace  to  the  wicked  ;"  if"  the 
gall  of  bitterness"  be  connected  with  "the 
bonds  of  iniquity ;"  if  "  the  wages  of  sin  be 
death  ;"  and  "  these  are  the  true  sayings  of 
God" — then  the  earlier  the  deliverance,  the 
greater  the  privilege.  Those  who  approached 
our  Saviour  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  desired 
an  immediate  relief  from  their  oppressing 
maladies.  Burtimeus  did  not  say,  "  herd, 
that  I  may  receive  my  sight" — but  not  yet. 


86 


SERMON  VI. 


The  leper  did  not  say,  "  Lord,  if  thou  wilt, 
thou  canst  make  me  clean :"  and  I  hope  at 
some  future  season  I  shall  be  healed  ;  but  I 
cannot  resign  my  disease  at  present.  In 
another  case,  a  poor  wanderer,  who  has  miss- 
ed his  way  in  a  journey  of  importance,  would 
deem  it  an  advantage  to  be  set  right  speedily. 
But  you  wish  first  to  go  far  astray  :  though 
you  must  re-tread  every  step,  exhausting 
your  strength  and  your  time  by  your  return, 
and  be  in  danger  of  seeing  the  day  end,  be- 
fore you  have  reached  the  road  in  which 
your  journey  is  to  begin. — Such  losses  and  in- 
juries are  occasioned  by  delay;  and  where 
the  soul  is  saved,  and  sin  is  pardoned,  in  how 
many  instances  are  late  converts  '  made  to 
possess  the  iniquities  of  their  youth  !" — This 
brings  us, 

Part  II.  To  consider  the  beneficial  in- 
fluence of  early  piety  over  the  remainder  of 
your  days.  Youth  is  the  spring  of  life :  and 
by  this  will  be  determined  the  glory  of  sum- 
mer, the  abundance  of  autumn,  the  provision 
of  winter.  It  is  the  morning  of  life,  and  if 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness  do  not  dispel  the 
moral  mists  and  fogs  before  noon,  the  whole 
day  generally  remains  overspread  and 
gloomy.  It  is  the  seed-time ;  and  "  what  a 
man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  Every 
thing  of  importance  is  affected  by  religion  in 
this  period  of  life. 

Piety  in  youth  will  have  a  good  influence 
over  your  bodies. — It  will  preserve  them 
from  disease  and  deformity.  Sin  variously 
tends  to  the  injury  of  health;  and  often  by 
intemperance  the  constitution  is  so  impaired, 
that  late  religion  is  unable  to  restore  what 
early  religion  would  have  prevented.  The 
unpleasantness  which  you  see  in  many  faces 
is  more  the  effect  of  evil  tempers  brooding 
within,  while  the  features  are  forming  and 
maturing,  than  of  any  natural  defect.  After 
such  disagreeable  traits  are  established,  re- 
ligion comes  too  late  to  alter  the  physiognomy 
of  the  countenance ;  and  thus  it  is  obliged, 
however  lovely  in  itself,  to  wear  through  life 
a  face  corroded  with  envy,  malignant  with 
revenge,  scowling  with  suspicion  and  dis- 
trust, or  haughty  with  scorn  and  contempt. 

Early  piety  will  have  a  good  influence 
over  your  secular  concerns.  Nothing  is  so 
likely  to  raise  a  man  in  the  world.  It  pro- 
duces a  fair  character ;  it  procures  confidence 
and  esteem;  it  promotes  diligence, frugality, 
and  charity ;  it  attracts  the  blessing  of  Hea- 
ven, which  "  maketh  rich,  and  addeth  no  sor- 
row with  it."  For  says  God,  "them  that 
honour  me,  I  will  honour."  "Honour  the 
Lord  with  thy  substance,  and  with  the  first- 
fruits  of  all  thy  increase ;  so  shall  thy  bams 
be  filled  with  plenty,  and  thy  presses  shall 
gush  out  with  new  wine." — "  Seek  ye  first 
the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness, 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you." 


Early  piety  will  have  a  good  influence  to 
secure  you  from  all  those  dangers  to  which 
you  are  exposed  in  a  season  of  life  the  most 
perilous. — Conceive  of  a  youth  entering  a 
world  like  this,  destitute  of  the  presiding,  go- 
verning care  of  religion — his  passions  high, 
his  prudence  weak — impatient,  rash,  confident 
— without  experience — a  thousand  avenues 
of  seduction  opening  around  him,  and  a  syren 
voice  singing  at  the  entrance  of  each — pleas- 
ed .  with  appearances,  and  embracing  them 
for  realities — joined  by  evil  company — en- 
snared by  erroneous  publications! — the  ha- 
zards, my  young  friends,  exceed  all  the  alarm 
I  can  give.  You  may  flatter  yourselves  that 
your  own  good  sense  and  moral  feelings  will 
secure  you ;  but  "  he  that  trusteth  in  his  own 
heart  is  a  fool."  The  power  of  temptation, 
the  force  of  example,  the  influence  of  circum- 
stances, in  new  and  untried  situations,  are  in- 
conceivable ;  they  baffle  the  clearest  convic- 
tion and  the  firmest  resolution,  and  often  ren- 
der us  an  astonishment  to  ourselves.  "  Trust 
in  the  Lord  with  all  thine  heart,  and  lean  not 
to  thine  own  understanding:  in  all  thy  ways 
acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall  direct  thy 
paths."  Follow  him,  and  "  thou  shalt  walk 
in  thy  way  safely,  and  thy  foot  shall  not 
stumble."  His  grace,  and  his  providence,  will 
be  thy  guard  and  thy  conductor.  And  "  wilt 
thou  not  from  this  time  cry  unto"  Him,  "  My 
Father,  thou  art  the  guide  of  my  youth  !" 

Early  piety  will  have  a  beneficial  influence 
in  forming  your  connexions,  and  establishing 
your  plans  for  life — You  will  ask  counsel  of 
the  Lord,  and  arrange  all  your  schemes  un- 
der the  superintendency  of  Scripture,  which 
contains  the  wisdom  of  God.  Those  changes 
which  a  person  is  obliged  to  make,  who  be- 
comes religious  in  manhood,  are  always  very 
embarrassing.  With  what  difficulty  do  some 
good  men  establish  family  worship  after  liv- 
ing, in  the  view  of  children  and  servants,  so 
long  in  the  neglect  of  it !  But  this  would  have 
been  avoided,  had  they  early  followed  the  ex- 
ample of  Joshua — "  As  for  me  and  my  house, 
we  will  serve  the  Lord."  How  hard  is  it  to  dis- 
entangle ourselves  from  associates,with  whom 
we  have  been  long  familiar,  and  who  have 
proved  a  snare  to  our  souls ! — but  we  should 
never  have  linked  ourselves  with  them,  had 
we  early  listened  to  the  voice  of  truth — "  My 
son,  if  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou  not. 
"  He  that  walketh  with  wise  men  shall  be 
wise,  and  a  companion  of  fools  shall  be  destroy- 
ed." Some  evils  are  remediless. — Persons 
have  formed  alliances  which  they  cannot  dis- 
solve :  but  they  did  not  walk  by  the  rule,  "  Be 
ye  not  unequally  yoked  together  with  un- 
believers." They  are  now  wedded  to  misery 
all  their  days ;  and  repentance,  instead  of  vi- 
siting them  like  a  faithful  friend,  to  chide  them 
when  they  do  wrong,  and  withdraw,  is  quar- 
tered upon  them  for  life. 

We  may  view  the  influence  of  youthful 


SERMON  VI. 


87 


piety  as  connected  with  your  spiritual  pro- 
gress and  pleasure. — In  every  science,  pro- 
fession, and  business,  early  application  is 
deemed  necessary  to  future  excellency.  He 
is  not  likely  to  surpass  others,  who  begun 
long  after  them.  As  soon  as  the  grand  pur- 
pose of  a  man  is  fixed,  he  has  something  al- 
ways to  regulate  him,  always  to  engage  him ; 
he  secures  much  action,  which  would  other- 
wise be  dispersed  and  useless;  he  avails  him- 
self of  all  accidental  assistance,  and  turns 
every  stream  into  this  swelling  channel.  An 
early  dedication  also  renders  a  religious  life 
more  easy  and  pleasant.  Use  facilitates :  a 
repetition  of  action  produces  habits  ;  and  ha- 
bits formed,  yield  delight  in  those  exercises 
which  formed  them.  What  was  irksome  at 
first  becomes  by  custom  agreeable,  and  we 
even  refuse  a  change.  And  this  is  peculiarly 
the  case  here  :  for  religion  will  bear  exami- 
nation ;  it  improves  on  intimacy ;  fresh  excel- 
lences are  perpetually  discovered ;  fresh  suc- 
cours are  daily  afforded  ;  and  every  new  vic- 
tory inspires  new  hope,  and  produces  new 
energy. 

Your  piety,  my  young  friends,  will  be  of 
unspeakable  advantage  in  the  calamities  of 
life.  These  you  cannot  reasonably  expect  to 
escape.  "  Man  is  born  to  trouble."  What- 
ever affords  us  pleasure,  has  power  to  give  us 
pain.  Possessions  are  precarious.  Friends 
die. — When  his  gourds  wither,  what  becomes 
of  the  wretch  who  has  no  other  shade  1 — But 
"to  the  upright  there  ariseth  light  in  the 
darkness."  Though  Divine  grace  does  not 
ensure  exemption  from  calamity,  it  turns  the 
curse  into  a  blessing  :  it  enters  the  house  of 
mourning,  and  soothes  the  troubled  mind  :  it 
prepares  us  for  all,  sustains  us  in  all,  sancti- 
fies us  by  all,  delivers  us  from  all. 

Early  piety  will  bless  old  age. — When  the 
"  evil  days  come,  and  the  years  draw  near,  in 
which  you  will  say,  we  have  no  pleasure" — 
when  "  the  clouds  return  after  the  rain" — 
when  "  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  are 
darkened" — when  "  the  grasshopper  is  a  bur- 
den, and  desire  fails,"  and  you  are  approach- 
ing your  "  long  home" — you  will  not  be  des- 
titute of  consolation.  Your  "  hoary  hairs  are 
a  crown  of  glory,"  for  "  they  are  found  in  the 
way  of  righteousness."  You  enjoy  the  esteem 
and  assistance  of  those  who  have  witnessed 
your  worth,  and  have  been  blessed  by  your 
example.  God  views  you  as  an  "  old  disciple," 
and  "  remembers  the  kindness  of  your  youth." 
With  humble  confidence  you  may  address 
Him — "  O  God  !  thou  hast  taught  me  from 
my  youth ;  and  hitherto  have  I  declared  thy 
wondrous  works:  now  also,  when  I  am  old 
and  grey-headed,  O  God,  forsake  me  not." 
And  what  saith  the  answer  of  God  1  "  Even 
to  your  old  age  I  am  he,  and  even  to  hoary 
hairs  will  I  carry  you :  I  have  made,  and  I 
will  bear;  even  I  will  carry, and  will  deliver 
you."    You  can  look  back  with  pleasure  on 

4 


some  instances  of  usefulness :  to  some  poor 
traveller  you  have  been  a  refreshing  stream  ; 
some  deluded  wanderer  you  guided  into  "the 
path  of  peace."  You  review  with  satisfaction 
some  peculiar  places  of  devotion ;  some 
"times  of  refreshing  from  the  presence  ofthe 
Lord ;"  seme  "  holy  days"  in  which,  "  with 
the  voice  of  joy  and  gladness,"  you  accom- 
panied "  the  multitude  to  his  house."  You 
look  forward,  and  see  the  God  who  has  guided 
you  "  with  his  counsel,"  ready  to  "  receive 
you  to  glory." — "  My  salvation  is  nearer  than 
when  I  believed  :  the  night  is  far  spent,  the 
day  is  at  hand.  I  know  that  my  Redeemer 
liveth.  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and 
the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand :  I  have 
fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course, 
I  have  kept  the  faith.  Henceforth  there  is 
laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which 
the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me 
at  that  day  ;  and  not  to  me  only,  but  unto  all 
them  also  that  love  his  appearing." — Such  is 
the  beneficial  influence  of  early  piety.  It  af- 
fects our  bodies,  our  circumstances,  our  pre- 
servation, our  connexions,  our  progress  and 
pleasure  in  the  ways  of  godliness,  the  troubles 
of  life,  and  the  burdens  of  age. — But  if  all 
these  advantages  do  not  allure  you  to  an  im- 
mediate attention  to  religion,  and  you  resolve 
to  suspend  your  concern  till  a  future  period, 
it  will  be  necessary, 

Part  III.  To  take  a  more  awful  view  of 
the  subject,  and  to  examine  the  consequences 
of  procrastination. — We  can  only  make  two 
suppositions.  The  one  is,  that  after  all  your 
delay  you  will  obtain  repentance.  The  other, 
and  which  is  much  more  probable,  is,  that 
you  will  not. 

First,  we  shall  conclude  that  you  will  ob- 
tain repentance. — This  is  what  you  hope  for ; 
but  allowing  your  hope  to  be  well-founded,  no- 
thing can  be  more  unreasonable  than  your  de- 
lay. For  would  you  indulge  yourselves  in  a 
course  of  sin,  because  you  hope  to  be  able 
hereafter  to  repent  of  it  7  Can  any  thing  ex- 
ceed this  extravagance  of  folly  ?  Would  any 
man  in  his  senses  continue  in  a  business,  be- 
cause he  hoped  that  at  last  it  vvould  fill  him 
with  painful  regret  and  self-abhorrence ;  be- 
cause he  hoped  before  his  death  to  condemn 
himself  for  engaging  in  it,  as  having  acted  a 
part  the  most  foolish,  base,  and  injurious? — 
Real  repentance  is  always  an  awful  thing :  it 
leads  the  subject  of  it  to  feel  that  his  "  iniqui- 
ties are  a  burden  too  heavy  for  him  to  bear  ;" 
it  causes  him  to  "  loath  himself  for  all"  his 
"  abominations ;"  it  fills  him  with  "  shame, 
and  confusion  of  face ;"  it  renders  him 
"  speechless."  This  it  does  at  all  times. 
But  in  a  late  repentance,  in  a  repentance  af- 
ter so  many  criminal  delays,  there  are  four 
peculiar  circumstances  of  aggravation.  The 
first  is  drawn  from  your  singular  abuse  of  the 
Divine  goodness.  For  what  encourages  you 
to  refuse  so  long  the  obedience  which  God  de- 


38 


SERMON  VI. 


mands  1 — You  hope  he  will  at  last  shew  mer- 
cy :  were  it  not  for  this  confidence,  you  could 
not  venture  to  delay.    What  then,  when  you 
go  to  God,  will  be  the  language  of  your  negli- 
gence !  "  Lord,  I  have  been  evil,  because 
thou  wast  good !  It  was  not  because  I  con- 
sidered thee  a  hard  master,  that  I  did  Yiot  serve 
thee,  but  because  I  believed  thee  to  be  a  kind 
one.    Persuaded  of  thy  compassion,  and  readi- 
ness to  pardon,  I  have  peaceably  sinned 
against  thee  for  sixty  years.    If  thou  hadst 
not  been  so  infinitely  worthy  of  my  affection 
and  devotion,  I  had  long  ago  loved  and  obey- 
ed thee." — A  second  arises  from  the  multi- 
tude of  evil  to  be  reviewed.    It  is  distress- 
ing enough  to  examine  a  week,  or  a  month, 
stained  with  the  vilencssof  sin.    But,  oh  !  to 
look  back  upon  years !  multiplied  years !  to 
see  sins  rushing  out  of  every  relation,  every 
condition  in  which  we  have  been  found ! — So 
many  opportunities  lost!   so  many  talents 
misemployed!  so  many  privileges  abused!  a 
life  barren  of  goodness  !  a  whole  life  of  guilt! 
— A  third  is  taken  from  injury  done  to  others. 
If  God  has  forgiven  him,  how  can  he  forgive 
himself!  By  his  errors,  his  vices,  his  example, 
and  his  influence,  he  has  led  others  into  sins, 
from  which  he  cannot  reclaim  them :  he  sees 
them  advancing  in  the  way  of  destruction,  and 
knows  that  he  instructed  and  encouraged  them 
to  enter  it.    Happy  is  the  youth,  who,  by  an 
early  conversion,  is  preserved  from  being  a 
"  corrupter,"  and  who  is  harmless,  if  not  "  use- 
ful in  his  passage  through  life." — To  charge 
ourselves  witli  the  loss  of  one  soul,  is  sufficient, 
not  only  to  embitter  repentance,  but,  if  it 
were  possible,  to  produce  even  anguish  in  hea- 
ven.— The  fourth  is  to  be  found  in  the  uncer- 
tainty which  necessarily  attends  such  defer- 
red repentance.  For  how  can  he  be  assured  of 
the  truth  of  it !  How  can  he  know  that  he  has 
not  only  abandoned  sin,  but  is  mortified  to  it  3 
How  can  he  know  that  he  is  not  only  reform- 
ed, but  renewed !  Principles  are  to  be  ascer- 
tained by  their  operations  and  effects;  but 
what  opportunity  has  he  to  exemplify  them  ? 
How  can  he  know  that  his  concern  is  any 
thing  more  than  fear  awakened,  or  tears  ex-  j 


torted,  by  the  approach  of  death  and  judgment ! 
Men  may  change  their  work,  and  not  their 
master.  We  have  seen  men  in  circumstances 
of  sickness,  giving  all  the  evidence  we  could 
desire  of  a  genuine  repentance,  whose  health 
and  whose  wickedness  returned  together. 
How  will  you  decide  whether  your  repent- 
ance be  superior  to  this?  What  reason  will 
you  have  for  cruel  suspicion  !  How  dreadful 
to  be  in  a  state  of  perplexity,  when,  above  all 
things,  you  need  a  good  hope  through  grace! 
— To  suspend  salvation  on  a  venture  ! — Per- 
haps, I  am  on  the  confines  of  heaven ;  per- 
haps, I  am  on  the  verge  of  hell ! — 

Our  reasoning  has  thus  far  proceeded  on  a 
supposition  that  you  will  obtain  repentance 
hereafter,  though  you  are  resolved  to  live 


neglectful  ofGod  now.  But  there  is  another 
supposition — you  may  not  obtain  it ;  and  this, 
we  contend,  is  much  more  probable  than  the 
former. — For  who  has  told  you  that  you  shall 
live  to  repent !  Have  you  made  a  covenant 
with  death  !  Are  you  secure  from  the  jeopar- 
dy of  diseases  and  accidents  !  You  expect 
the  Master  in  the  evening — who  assures  you 
that  he  will  not  come  in  the  morning  !  Stand 
forth,  ye  young  and  ye  healthy — did  you  ne- 
ver hear  of  one  dying  at  your  age,  and  in  your 
circumstances  !  A  wise  writer  has  told  you 
that  "  Sixteen  is  mortal  as  fourscore ;"  and 
an  inspired  one,  "  Man  also  knoweth  not  his 
time.  As  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in  an  evil 
net,  and  as  the  birds  that  are  caught  in  the 
snare,  so  are  the  sons  of  men  snared  in  an  evil 
time,  when  it  falleth  suddenly  upon  them." 

Or  who  has  assured  you  that  you  shall  have 
grace  to  repent !  For  to  grace  only  can  you 
look  for  the  effect;  and  this  grace  must  be 
little  less  than  miraculous. — View  a  man  who 
has  reached  the  period  of  your  procrastination. 
His  strength  is  labour  and  sorrow — the  infir- 
mities of  the  body  weigh  down  the  soul — the 
senses  are  impaired — the  faculties  are  benumb- 
ed— he  is  incapable  of  attention — every  trifle 
disconcerts  him — he  is  more  than  half  dead 
before  he  begins  to  think  of  living — he  is  pre- 
paring to  "  run  the  race  set  before  him"  when 
he  is  unable  any  longer  to  breathe.  Con- 
science calling  so  long  in  vain,  is  now  silent. 
Objects  so  long  familiar  to  the  mind,  are  be- 
come unimpressive.    He  has  passed  by  threat- 
enings  so  often,  that  they  cease  to  terrify  him. 
The  present  Bible  has  done  nothing,  and  no 
new  one  is  to  be  expected.    He  has  not  been 
led  to  repentance  by  "  Moses  and  the  pro- 
phets, neither  would  he  be  persuaded  though 
one  rose  from  the  dead." — "  It  is  easier  for  a 
camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than 
for"  an  old  sinner  "  to  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven :" — "  with  men  it  is  impossi- 
1  ble  ;  but  with  God  all  things  are  possible" — 
\  On  this  hinge  turns  his  hope — all  is  reduced 
to  this — the  repentance  of  such  a  man  must 
depend  upon  grace. — Let  us  see  then  what 
reason  you  have  to  conclude  that  God  will 
grant  you  this  repentance.    God  waits  to  be  . 
gracious ;  and  of  this  grace  we  cannot  speak 
too  highly  :  but  such  views  of  it  as  encourage 
presumption  and  countenance  sin  are  un- 
questionably erroneous  ones.    He  is  gracious 
— but  his  grace  lives  in  communion  with  his 
holiness  and  his  wisdom.    He  is  gracious — 
but  the  very  notion  supposes  the  exercise  of  it 
to  be  free,  and  that  he  may  dispense  it  as  he 
pleases.    Though  nothing  can  deserve  his 
goodness,  many  things  may  provoke  it :  and 
what  reason  have  you  to  expect,  that  after 
you  can  sin  no  longer,  he  will  in  an  extraor- 
dinary way  extend  the  grace  you  have  so  long 
despised,  and  save  you  from  a  ruin  the  con- 
sequence of  your  own  choice  1  And  what  view 
have  you  of  God,  if  you  suppose  that  he  can- 


SERMON  VI. 


39 


not  righteously  deny  it?  When  you  have 
rendered  yourselves  most  unworthy  of  it  as  a 
gift,  do  you  exact  it  as  a  right !  Has  he  not 
told  you  that  his  "  Spirit  -shall  not  always 
strive  with  men  !"  Is  hife  mercy  to  have  no 
limits,  or  his  patience  no  end  ?  If  "sentence 
against  an  evil  work  be  not  executed  speedily," 
is  it  never  to  be  executed  !  Were  it  common 
for  God  to  call  sinners  by  his  grace  at  such  a 
period,  would  it  not  have  the  most  unfavour- 
able effect,  and  encourage  a  hope  which  all 
the  Bible  is  levelled  to  destroy  !  God  designs 
to  be  honoured  by  his  people  in  this  world. 
He  saves  them — that  they  may  serve  him  :  he 
converts  them — not  to  die,  but  to  live.  And 
therefore  we  find  few,  very  few,  becoming 
religious  in  advanced  years:  and  observation 
abundantly  proves  that  irreligious  youth  is  al- 
most constantly  followed  with  wickedness  in 
manhood,  and  indifference  in  old  age;  and 
that  as  men  live,  so  they  die. 

Ah !  how  often  do  I  think,  as  I  ascend 
these  stairs,  and  look  round  on  this  assembly, 
how  easy  would  it  be  to  determine  my  hear- 
ers to  a  religious  course,  if  the  old  did  not  fa- 
tally promise  themselves  weeks  ;  the  middle- 
aged,  months ;  and  the  young,  years  to  come ! 
It  is  not  absolute  denial  that  destroys  so  many 
souls,  but  tampering  delay.  Of  all  the  numbers 
who  continually  drop  into  perdition,  is  there 
one,  who  did  not  intend  at  some  future  peri- 
od to  "  work  out  his  salvation  J" — But  before 
this  other  passion  was  fully  indulged,  and  this 
other  scheme  was  accomplished,  while  he  was 
slumbering  in  negligence,  or  awaked  by  a 
midnight  cry,  he  sprang  up  to  find  his  lamp ; 
— the  "  Bridegroom  came,  and  they  that  were 
ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  marriage, 
and  the  door  was  shut."  Eternal  God  !  "  so 
teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  ap- 
ply our  hearts  unto  wisdom."  Interpose  in 
favour  of  the  youth  who  are  before  Thee  ; 
and  suffer  not  procrastination,  that  "  thief  of 
time,"  that  "  child  of  the  devil,"  to  deceive 
and  to  destroy  the  rising  hopes  of  our  fami- 
lies, our  churches,  and  our  country.  "  Pour 
down  thy  Spirit  upon  our  seed,  and  thy  bless- 
ing upon  our  offspring." — "  May  one  say,  I 
am  the  Lord's;  and  another  call  himself  by 
the  name  of  Jacob;  and  another  subscribe 
with  his  own  hand,  and  surname  himself  by 
the  name  of  Israel." 

To  realize  this  pleasing  prospect,  let  mi- 
nisters, let  tutors,  let  all  unite  their  endea- 
vours. But,  0  ye  parents,  a  peculiar  obliga- 
tion devolves  upon  you.  Awaken  all  your 
tenderness  and  anxiety,  and  give  them  a  spi- 
ritual direction.  You  wish  your  children  to 
be  sober,  submissive,  dutiful — but  piety  is  the 
only  sure  foundation  of  morality.  You 
would  not  have  your  love  for  your  children  to 
be  suspected — but  wretched  are  those  children 
who  share  only  in  a  solicitude,  which  asks, 
'  what  shall  they  eat,  or  what  shall  they 


drink,  or  wherewithal  shall  they  be  clothed  !" 
— What  is  the  body  to  the  soul !  What  is  time 
to  eternity  !  What  is  it  to  dispose  of  them 
advantageously  in  life,  and  leave  them  un- 
prepared fur  death,  unprovided  for  a  new,  a 
never-ending,  period  of  existence  !  Are  you 
the  barbarous  instruments  of  bringing  these 
hapless  beings  into  life,  only  to  sacrifice 
them  1 — Such  parents  are  more  cruel  than 
Herod.  He  slew  the  children  of  others — 
these  slay  their  own.  He  only  destroyed  the 
body — these  destroy  the  soul.  His  victims 
died  innocent,  and  were  doubtless  saved — 
these  parents  will  not  suffer  their  offspring  to 
die  innocent:  by  their  unkind  care,  they 
guard  them  till  the  season  of  safety  is  elaps- 
ed ;  till  they  are  become  accountable,  and 
criminal ;  and  expose  them,  when  they  know 
their  death  will  be  attended  with  their  damn- 
ation. Men  and  brethren,  escape  this  dread- 
ful censure — distinguish  yourselves  not  only 
from  an  openly  wicked  world,  but  from  those 
modern  professors  of  religion,  who  are  always 
found  in  public,  hearing  sermons,  but  can  leave 
their  families  in  disorder,  and  take  no  pains 
in  the  pious  education  of  their  children. — Fear 
God  yourselves,  and  teach  your  offspring  to 
fear  him.  Recommend  instruction  by  exam- 
ple, and  crown  all  with  prayer — prayer  for 
them,  and  with  them.  Thus  you  will  "  train 
them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord;"  thus  you  will  rejoice  here  "to  see 
them  walking  in  the  truth,"  and  hereafter 
will  lead  them  to  the  Throne  of  Glory ;  say- 
ing, "Behold,  here  am  I,  and  the  children 
thou  hast  given  me." 

But  it  is  with  you,  my  hearers  in  early  life, 
I  wish  to  close  this  address. — I  see  some  in 
this  assembly  who  are  distinguished  by  the 
fear  of  God  in  their  youth : — some  Isaacs,  who 
prefer  an  evening-walk  in  the  field,  to  medi- 
tate, to  the  crowded  avenues  of  dissipation  : — 
some  Josephs,  whose  image  is  "  a  fruitful 
bough  by  a  well :" — some  Davids,  who  love 
the  harps  of  Zion,  and  have  no  ear  for  "  the 
song  of  the  drunkard,"  or  "  the  mirth  offools :" 
— some  Timothies,  who  "  from  children  have 
known  the  Scripture,  which  is  able  to  make 
them  wise  unto  salvation :" — and  I  hail  you  on 
your  early  escape  from  "  the  paths  of  the  de- 
stroyer," on  your  early  separation  from  a 
world,  which  attracts  only  to  shew  its  empti- 
ness, and  elevates  only  to  depress  ;  on  your 
early  union  with  the  wise  and  good.  Go  forth, 
and  in  all  "  the  beauties  of  holiness"  honour 
God,  and  serve  your  generation  according  to 
his  will.  Religiously  occupy  the  stations 
which  you  are  to  ennoble,  and  form  the  con- 
nexions which  you  are  to  bless.  "Adorn  the 
doctrine  of  God  your  Saviour  in  all  things." 
Earnestly  pursue  the  glorious  course  which 
you  have  begun  ;  be  not  weary  in  well-doing ; 
grow  in  grace,  as  you  advance  in  years; 
"  abound  more  and  more  in  knowledge,  and  in 


40 


SERMON  VII. 


all  judgment ;"  "  approve  things  that  are  ex- 
cellent ;"  and  "  be  sincere  and  without  of- 
fence till  the  day  of  Christ." 

And  what  hinders  any  of  you,  my  young 
friends,  from  joining  yourselves  to  the  Lord  1 — 
Weigh  the  reasonings  which  you  have  heard. 
Suspend  for  a  while  the  influence  of  your  pas- 
sions, and  endeavour  to  feel  the  force  of  the 
motives  which  have  been  adduced.  Delibe- 
rate, or  rather  decide  ;  for  there  is  no  time  for 
hesitation — "  now  is  the  accepted  time,  now  is 
the  day  of  salvation."  The  language  of  the 
Redeemer  is,  "  To-day  ;"  and  will  you  say, 
with  Pharaoh,  "  To-morrow  '!"  Every  delay 
will  leave  you  more  remote  from  the  God  you 
have  to  seek — every  delay  will  place  more 
barriers  between  you  and  heaven — every  delay 
will  increase  your  crimes,  your  passions,  your 
aversions — every  day  will  diminish  the  effi- 
cacy of  means,  the  period  of  Divine  patience, 
the  time  of  your  probation.  While  you  hesi- 
tate, you  die  ;  while  you  promise  yourselves 
years,  perhaps  you  have  not  days — perhaps  the 
shuttle  has  passed  the  loom  that  wove  thy 
winding-sheet — perhaps  in  yonder  shop  lies 
rolled  up,  and  ready  to  be  severed  off,  the  piece 
of  cloth  destined  to  be  thy  shroud ;  perhaps 
"  the  feet  of  them  that  have  buried  thy"  com- 
panion, are  at  the  door,  "  to  carry  thee  out !" 

When  Felix  trembled,  instead  of  cherishing 
his  concern,  he  proposed  a  "more  convenient 
season,"  which — never  came.  It  was  the  un- 
happy state  of  Agrippa  to  be  "  almost,  but  not 
altogether  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian." — 
And  there  are  young  people — how  shall  I  de- 
scribed them  ? — they  had  betimes  convictions 
and  impressions — their  early  days  were  the 
time  of  their  visitation — they  asked  for  God 
their  Maker ;  they  often  retired  to  pray  ; 
they  loved  the  Sabbath ;  they  heard  the  Gos- 
pel with  sensibility — but,  alas !  "  their  good- 
ness was  as  a  morning  cloud  and  early 
dew,  which  passeth  away." — But  "  was  it  not 
better  with  you  then  than  now'!" — Ah!  had 
you  still  "  hearkened  to  His  commandments, 
then  had  your  peace  been  as  a  river,  and  your 
righteousness  like  the  waves  of  the  sea." — 
Will  this  discourse  revive  your  former  feel- 
ings, and  cause  you  to  return  1  Or  will  it  on- 
ly hold  you  up  as  a  warning,  to  guard  others 
against  trifling  with  conscience,  and  falling 
away  after  the  same  example  ! 

On  some  of  you,  I  fear,  the  address  has  been 
more  than  useless. — I  could  wish  you  had  sav- 
ed yourselves  the  mortification  of  hearing  a 
discourse,  in  which  there  was  nothing  agree- 
able to  your  taste,  and  which  you  determined 
from  the  beginning  to  disregard ;  I  could  wish 
you  had  withdrawn  yourselves  from  an  assem- 
bly, which  will  one  day  furnish  only  witness- 
es against  you. — By  an  unsanctified  use  of  the 
means  of  grace,  you  aggravate  your  sin,  you  in- 
crease your  misery,  and  you  render  your  con- 
version more  difficult.  In  endeavouring  to  be 
vour  friends,  your  ministers  become  your  ene- 


mies; in  trying  to  save,  they  condemn: 
though  ordained  to  be  "  the  savour  of  life  un- 
to life,"  your  corruption  renders  them  "the  sa- 
vour of  death  unto,  death ;"  and  those  affec- 
tionate importunities  and  faithful  warnings, 
which  if  they  had  been  regarded  would  have 
secured  your  happiness,  will  surround  your 
minds  when  you  come  to  die,  and  render  your 
recollection  painful,  and  your  prospect  intole- 
rable— For  you  will  "  mourn  at  the  last,  when 
thy  flesh  and  thy  body  are  consumed,  and  say, 
How  have  I  hated  instruction,  and  my  heart 
despised  reproof ;  and  have  not  obeyed  the 
voice  of  my  teachers,  nor  inclined  mine  ear 
to  them  that  instructed  me !  I  was  almost  in 
all  evil  in  the  midst  of  the  congregation  and 
assembly." 


SERMON  VII. 

THE  CONDEMNATION  OF  SELF- 
WILL. 

Should  it  be  according  to  thy  mind? 

Job  xxxiv.  33. 

"  O  that  I  were  made  judge  in  the  land  ; 
that  every  man  which  hath  any  suit  or  cause 
might  come  unto  me,  and  I  would  do  him  jus- 
tice !"  Such  was  the  language  of  Absalom, 
when  labouring  to  promote  and  to  justify  a 
measure,  the  design  of  which  was  to  exclude 
David  from  the  throne,  and  to  establish  a  usurp- 
er. It  is  the  common  eloquence  of  faction, 
which  always  knows  how  much  easier  it  is  to 
censure  than  to  reform  ;  which  loves  to  talk 
of  the  facility  of  government,  and  to  hide  the 
difficulties ;  which  is  sure  to  fix  on  evils  that 
are  often  unavoidable,  and  to  disregard  advan- 
tages, in  the  procuring  of  which  human  pru- 
dence has  some  share;  and  which  is  ever 
making  comparisons  between  long  established 
institutions,  the  sober  value  of  which  cannot 
strike  with  the  freshness  of  novelty,  and  the 
charming  scenes  to  be  found  in  the  paradise 
of  speculation. 

Who  is  not  ready  to  condemn  Absalom  1 — 
"  Young  man,  while  the  king  is  employed  in 
the  cares  and  perplexities  of  empire,  it  is  an 
easy  thing  for  you  to  sit  in  the  gate,  and  deal 
forth  your  reflections  and  your  promises.  Are 
you  not  a  subject!  Are  you  not  a  son]  Are 
you  not,  in  experience,  and  every  other  qua- 
lification, inferior  to  your  father  and  your  so- 
vereign V 

I  go  further — If  a  person  were  to  rise  up 
in  this  assembly,  and  endeavour  to  draw  away 
disciples  after  him ;  if,  holding  the  same  lan- 
guage with  regard  to  God  which  Absalom 
used  with  regard  to  David,  he  should  say,  "  O 
that  I  were  made  governor  in  the  world ! 
Things  should  not  be  as  they  now  are.  The 
ways  of  the  Lord  are  not  equal :  the  Almighty 
perverts  judgment" — I  am  persuaded  you 
I  would  be  ready  to  drive  him  from  the  sane- 


SERMON  VII. 


11 


tuary,  and  to  stone  him  with  stones,  saying-, 
M  Thou  child  of  the  devil,  thou  enemy  of  all 
righteousness,  when  wilt  thou  cease  to  per- 
vert the  right  ways  of  God  V — But  what,  my 
hearers,  if  there  should  be  found  here,  of  such 
a  description,  not  one  character  only,  but 
many  !  what  if,  in  condemning  this  supposed 
blasphemer,  you  have  pronounced  judgment 
on  yourselves  ! — Why,  the  sentiment,  in  va- 
rious degrees,  prevails  in  all  mankind.  If 
they  do  not  avow  it,  they  indulge  it ;  if  they 
do  not  express  it  in  words,  it  is  to  be  derived 
by  fair  inference  from  their  actions.  For  are 
they  not  displeased  with  the  Divine  proceed- 
ings J  Do  they  not  murmur  at  those  events 
which,  under  His  administration,  are  perpe- 
tually occurring  !  Are  they  not  always  sug- 
gesting arrangements  which  they  deem  pre- 
ferable to  those  which  the  Governor  of  the 
world  has  planned  1 

This  is  the  subject  which  is  to  engage 
your  attention  at  this  hour :  and  it  is  a  sub- 
ject of  superior  importance,  and  will  be  found 
to  possess  a  commanding  influence  over  your 
duty  and  your  happiness.  Observe  the  words 
which  we  have  read  as  the  foundation  of  this 
exercise — "Should  it  be  according  to  thy 
mind'!" — The  speaker  is  Elihu;  a  personage 
which  the  sacred  historian  introduces  in  a 
manner  so  extraordinary,  that  commentators 
know  not  what  to  make  of  him.  Some  have 
taken  him  for  the  Son  of  God ;  others,  for  a 
prophet ;  all,  for  a  wise  and  good  man.  The 
meaning  of  the  question  is  obvious — "  Shall 
the  Supreme  Being  do  nothing  without  thy 
consent  ]  Should  he  ask  counsel  of  thee  ] 
Ought  he  to  regulate  his  dispensations  ac- 
cording to  thy  views  and  desires  1 — Should  it 
be  according  to  thy  mind  V  He  does  not  spe- 
cify any  particular  case;  which  makes  the 
inquiry  the  more  striking  and  useful,  and 
justifies  an  application  of  it  the  most  general 
and  comprehensive.  Elihu,  like  the  other 
friends  of  Job,  said  some  things  harsh,  and 
improper;  but  when  he  asked,  "Should  it  be 
according  to  thy  mind  1"  Job  should  instantly 
have  answered,  No.  And  were  your  preach- 
er to  address  the  same  question  individually 
to  this  assembly,  you  should  all  immediately 
answer,  No.  To  bring  you  to  this  temper,  we 
shall  enlarge  on  the  desire  of  having  things 
"  according  to  our  mind."  I.  As  common.  II. 

As  UNREASONABLE.  III.  As  CRIMINAL.  IV. 
As    DANGEROUS.     V.   As  IMPRACTICABLE.  

"  Consider  what  I  say,  and  the  Lord  give  you 
understanding  in  all  things." 

I.  To  have  things  "  according  to  our  mind" 
is  a  very  common  wish. — Man  is  naturally 
self-willed.  The  disposition  appears  very 
early  in  our  children.  All  sin  is  a  contention 
against  the  will  of  God.  It  began  in  para- 
dise. Adam  disobeyed  the  prohibition  to 
"  touch  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,"  and  all  his  posterity  have,  unhappily, 
followed  his  example.  What  God  forbids, 
F  4* 


we  desire  and  pursue;  what  he  enjoins,  we 
dislike  and  oppose.  Yea,  "  the  carnal  mind 
is  enmity  against  God  :  it  is  not  subject  to  the 
law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be." 

Enter  the  world  of  grace.  Behold  the  re- 
velation which  God  has  given  us — One  deems 
it  unnecessary — for  a  second,  it  is  too  simple 
— for  a  third,  it  is  too  mysterious.  See  Jesus 
Christ  crucified — He  is  "  to  the  Jews  a  stum- 
bling block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness." 
God  has  "  set"  his  "  King  upon  his  holy  hill 
of  Zion,"  and  has  sworn  "  that  to  him  every 
knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  confess" — 
the  language  of  those  who  hear  this  determi- 
nation is,  "  We  will  not  have  thisman  to  reign 
over  us."  When  we  begin  to  think  of  re- 
turning to  God,  it  is  not  by  the  way  which 
"  He  has  consecrated  for  us,"  but  by  a  way 
of  our  own  devising.  We  labour,  not  de- 
spairing of  our  own  strength,  while  pro- 
phets and  apostles  teach  us  to  implore  help, 
and  to  place  all  our  dependence  on  Him, 
whose  "  grace"  alone  "  is  sufficient"  for 
us.  We  seek  to  be  justified  by  our  own 
works,  while  the  Gospel  assures  us  we  must 
be  justified  by  "the  faith  of  Christ" — and 
many  a  proud  Naaman  exclaims,  "  Are  not 
Abana  and  Pharpar,  rivers  of  Damascus,  bet- 
ter than  all  the  waters  of  Israel '!  may  I  not 
wash  in  them,  and  be  clean1."  So  he  turns 
and  goes  away  in  "  a  rage." 

And  the  same  is  to  be  seen  in  the  world  of 
Providence.  Who  is  "content  with  such 
things  as"  he  has'!  Who  does  not  covet  what 
is  denied  him  1  Who  does  not  envy  the  supe- 
rior condition  of  his  neighbour'!  Who  does 
not  long  to  be  at  his  own  disposal  1  If  he  draw 
off  his  eyes  from  others,  and  look  inwardly, 
every  man  will  find  a  "  Pope  in  his  own  bo- 
som"— he  would  have  every  thing  according 
to  his  own  mind — he  would  have  his  own 
mind  the  measure  of  all  he  does  towards  God, 
and  of  all  God  does  towards  him. 

Acknowledged — But  is  not  this  disposition 
crushed  in  conversion,  and  are  not  the  Lord's 
"  people  made  willing  in  the  day  of  his  pow- 
er ]" — See  Saul  of  Tarsus  on  his  knees :  "  Be- 
hold, he  prayeth" — "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou 
have  me  to  dor'  David  wraps  himself  up  in 
the  stillness  of  patience  and  submission :  "  1 
was  dumb ;  I  opened  not  my  mouth  ;  because 
thou  didst  it."  There  stands  old  Eli :  he  has 
received  the  most  distressing  intelligence, 
and  piously  exclaims,  "  It  is  the  Lord ;  let 
Him  do  what  seemeth  him  good."  A  gra- 
cious woman  in  deep  affliction  was  once  heard 
to  say,  "  I  mourn,  but  I  do  not  murmur." 
We  have  read  of  one,  who,  when  informed 
that  her  two  sons,  her  only  children,  were 
drowned,  said,  in  all  the  majesty  of  grief,  and 
with  an  heavenly  composure,  "  I  see  God  is  re- 
solved to  have  all  my  heart,  and  I  am  resolv- 
ed He  shall  have  it." — Ah !  here  you  behold 
the  saints  in  their  choicest  moments,  and  in 
their  best  frames — for  their  sanctification  is  im- 


42 


SERMON  VII. 


perfect  in  all  its  parts — too  much  of  the  self- 
will  remains  even  in  them — they  are  most  gra- 
tified when  they  find  the  Divine  proceedings 
falling  into  the  direction  which  they  had  pre- 
scrihed — they  are  too  much  elated  when 
their  schemes  succeed,  and  too  much  depress- 
ed when  their  hopes  are  frustrated.  They 
do  indeed  love  the  will  of  God;  and  we  are 
far  from  saying,  that  they  would  have  nothing 
done  according  to  his  mind ;  but  they  are  oft- 
en solicitous  to  have  too  many  things  done 
according  to  their  own. 

II.  The  desire  is  unreasonable.  This 
will  easily  appear — for  we  are  wholly  unquali- 
fied to  govern ;  while  God  is  every  way  ade- 
quate to  the  work  in  which  he  is  engaged. 
Therefore  nothing  can  be  more  absurd  than 
to  labour  to  displease  him,  and  substitue  our- 
selves as  the  creators  of  destiny,  the  regula- 
tors of  events.  For,  to  throw  open  this  thought 
— his  power  is  almighty ;  his  resources  are 
boundless :  "  his  understanding  is  infinite." 
He  sees  all  things,  in  their  origin,  in  their 
connexions,  in  their  dependences,  in  their  re- 
mote effects.  He  is  "  wonderful  in  counsel, 
and  excellent  in  working."  This  is  the  Be- 
ing you  wish  to  set  aside — and  who  is  to  be 
his  successor  in  empire  ?  You,  a  worm  of  the 
earth ;  you,  whose  "  foundation  is  in  the  dust ;" 
you,  who  are  "crushed  before  the  moth;" 
you,  who  are  of  "  yesterday,  and  know  no- 
thing ;"  you,  who  "  know  not  what  a  day  may 
bring  forth." 

Placed  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the  universe, 
where  only  a  small  proportion  of  God's  works 
passes  under  his  review ;  fixed  in  a  valley, 
whose  surrounding  hills  intercept  his  pros- 
pects :  a  prisoner  even  there,  looking  only 
through  grates  and  bars ;  his  very  dimgeon 
enveloped  in  mists  and  fogs ;  his  eyes  also  dim 
by  reason  of  weakness — such  is  man ! — and  this 
"  vain  man  would  be  wise ;"  this  is  the  can- 
didate, who  deems  himself,  by  his  proposal, 
capable  of  governing,  and  wishes  to  arrange 
things  according  to  his  mind. 

My  brethren,  have  you  not  often  found 
yourselves  mistaken,  where  you  thought  your- 
selves most  sure  ?  Have  you  not  frequently 
erred  in  judging  yourselves,  and  generally 
erred  in  judging  others?  Do  you  not  blame 
those  who  condemn  any  of  your  proceedings 
before  they  understand  them,  especially  when 
the  objects  on  which  they  decide  fall  not 
within  the  sphere  of  their  knowledge  or  ob- 
servation ?  What  would  you  think  of  a  sub- 
ject, who,  scarcely  competent  to  guide  the  pet- 
ty concerns  of  his  own  household,  would  rush 
forth  to  assume  the  direction  of  the  affairs  of 
an  enlarged  empire,  after  censuring  measures 
which  he  does  not  comprehend,  cannot  com- 
prehend ;  whose  labyrinths  he  cannot  trace, 
whose  extensive  bearings  he  cannot  reach, 
whose  distant  consequences  he  cannot  calcu- 
late'?— All  this  imagery  is  weak  when  appli- 
ed to  "the  man  who  striveth  with  his 


Maker,"  and  "asks,  what  dost  Thou ?"  For 
whatever  differences  subsist  between  man 
and  man,  all  are  partakers  of  the  same  na- 
ture, and  all  are  liable  to  err — But  "  in  God 
there  is  no  darkness  at  all." — "  Is  there  un- 
righteousness with  God  ?  God  forbid  :  how 
then  could  God  judge  the  world  !" 

If  we  know  not  the  peculiarities  of  the  dis- 
ease, how  can  we  judge  properly  of  the  reme- 
dy which  the  physician  prescribes?  If  we 
know  not  the  station  which  the  son  is  destin- 
ed to  occupy,  how  can  we  judge  of  the  wis- 
dom of  the  father  in  the  education  he  is  giv- 
ing him?  And  how  can  we  decide  on  the 
means  which  the  Supreme  Being  employs, 
while  we  are  ignorant  of  the  reasons  which 
move  him,  and  the  plan  which  he  holds  in 
view  ? — A  providence  occurs ;  it  strikes  us ; 
we  endeavour  to  explain  it — but  are  we  cer- 
tain that  we  have  seized  the  true  meaning? 
Perhaps  what  we  take  as  an  end,  may  be 
only  the  way ;  what  we  take  as  the  whole, 
may  be  only  a  part ;  what  we  deprecate  may 
be  a  blessing,  and  what  we  implore  may  be  a 
curse ;  what  appears  confusion,  may  be  the 
tendencies  of  order ;  and  what  looks  like  the 
disaster  of  Providence,  may  be  the  preparation 
of  its  triumph.  "Canst  thou,  by  searching, 
find  out  God  ?  canst  thou  find  out  the  Almigh- 
ty unto  perfection?  Such  knowledge  is  too 
wonderful  for  us :  it  is  high ;  we  cannot  at- 
tain unto  it. — O  the  depths  of  the  riches  both 
of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God !  how 
unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways 
are  past  finding  out !  For  who  hath  known 
the  mind  of  the  Lord,  or  who  hath  been  his 
counsellor?" — Do  not  misunderstand  the  in- 
ference we  would  draw  from  these  premises 
— There  is  nothing  shameful  in  the  limitation 
of  our  powers,  nor  should  we  be  miserable  be- 
cause we  possess  only  a  degree  of  intelligence : 
but  let  us  not  forget  our  ignorance ;  let  us  not 
"darken  counsel,  by  words  without  know- 
ledge ;"  let  us  not  summon  to  our  tribunal "  the 
only  wise  God,"  and  condemn  all  that  accords 
not  with  our  contracted  notions.  Before  we  be- 
gin to  reform,  let  us  be  satisfied  an  amendment 
is  necessary ;  and  before  we  censure,  let  us  un- 
derstand. 

ni.  The  desire  of  having  things  "  accord- 
ing to  our  mind"  is  criminal — The  sources 
are  bad.  "Men  do  not  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles." 

It  argues  ingratitude. — It  is  infinite  conde- 
scension in  God  to  be  "  mindful  of  us ;"  to  be 
willing  to  manage  our  concerns ;  and  to  al- 
low us  to  cast  all  our  care  upon  him,  with  an 
assurance  that  "  he  ca'reth  for  us,"  and  will 
make  "  all  things  work  together  for  our  good." 
For  all  this  he  surely  deserves  our  thankful 
acknowledgments — and  we  insult  him  with 
murmuring  complaints  ?  What  can  be  more 
vile,  than  for  a  poor  dependent  creature,  who 
holds  his  very  being  by  the  good  pleasure  of 
his  Maker,  and  possesses  nothing  underived 


SERMON  VII. 


48 


from  the  bounty  of  his  Benefactor,  to  overlook 
so  many  expressions  of  his  goodness,  because 
he  complies  not  with  every  fond  desire ! 
What  can  be  baser  than  our  repining,  when 
the  very  same  kindness  which  urges  Provi- 
dence to  give,  determines  it  also  to  refuse ! 

It  springs  from  discontent. — It  shews  that 
we  are  displeased  with  his  dealings;  for  if 
wewerenot  dissatisfied,  why  do  we  desire  a 
change?  This  was  the  sin  of  the  Israelites  in 
wishing  a  king.  It  did  not  consist  in  desir- 
ing a  monarchy:  they  would  have  sinned 
equally  in  demanding  any  other  form  of  go- 
vernment. But  they  were  under  the  immedi- 
ate empire  of  God :  He  had  not  pleased  them ; 
they  would  set  him  right ;  they  "  charged  him 
foolishly ;"  they  would  be  like  "  the  rest  ofthe 
nations,"  when  it  was  his  pleasure  that  they 
should  be  a  peculiar  people — "The  people 
shall  dwell  alone,  and  shall  not  be  reckoned 
among  the  nations." 

It  betrays  earthly-mindedness. — The  soul 
feels  it  when  "  cleaving  to  the  dust"  Ac- 
cording to  our  attachments,  will  be,  all 
through  life,  our  afflictions  and  our  perplexi- 
ties. When  you  find  yourselves  in  prosper- 
ous circumstances,  surrounded  with  affluence 
and  friends,  enjoying  health  and  peace,  the 
providence  of  God  is  not  only  agreeable,  but 
intelligible.  We  never  hear  you  exclaim,  as 
you  "join  house  to  house,  and  add  field  to 
field,"  "Oh,  how  mysterious  the  dealings  of 
God  are !"  But  when  the  scene  is  revers- 
ed— then,  not  only  hard  thoughts  of  God 
are  entertained,  but  all  is  embarrassment; 
"  His  way  is  in  the  sea,  and  his  path  in  the 
deep  waters,  and  his  footsteps  are  not  known." 
What !  does  not  God  still  continue  to  govern  ? 
Has  he  less  wisdom  in  a  cloudy  day  than  in  a 
fine  one?  Does  every  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence become  intricate  as  soon  as  it  affects 
you?  Are  you  so  innocent  as  to  render  it 
doubtful  whether  you  can  be  lawfully  touch- 
ed ?  Are  you  such  attentive  scholars  as  to 
render  a  stroke  of  the  rod  a  mystery  ?  Is  God, 
in  blessing  his  people,  confined  to  one  class 
of  means  only?  Do  not  "these  light  afflic- 
tions, which  are  but  for  a  moment,  work  out 
for  you  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory  ?" — So  much  more  attached 
are  we  to  our  fleshly  interests  than  to  our 
spiritual  concerns ;  so  much  more  are  we  in- 
fluenced by  "  things  seen  and  temporal,  than 
by  those  things  which  are  unseen  and  eter- 
nal." 

It  is  the  produce  of  impatience. — This  will 
suffer  no  delay.  It  can  bear  no  denial.  It 
struggles  to  be  free  from  all  controul,  and 
cries,  "  Let  us  break"  his  "  bands  asunder,  and 
cast  away"  these  "  cords  from  us." 

It  is  the  offspring  of  pride  and  indepen- 
dence— the  cursed  disposition  which  expelled 
angels  from  heaven,  and  Adam  from  paradise. 
In  a  word,  it  is  a  presumptuous  invasion  ofthe 
authority  and  prerogative  of  God.  Your  place 


is  the  footstool,  not  the  throne :  you  are  to 
follow,  not  to  lead  ;  to  obey,  not  to  dictate. 
Suppose  a  stranger,  or  a  neighbour,  should 
come  into  your  family,  and  begin  to  new-place 
the  ornaments  and  utensils  of  your  rooms;  to 
order  your  children,  to  command  your  ser- 
vants, to  rule  your  house — on  what  principle 
would  you  blame  him  ?  This  is  not  his  office ; 
this  is  not  his  province;  he  is  an  intruder. — 
Maintain  your  distance  here,  and  do  not  en- 
croach on  the  Divine  rights.  You  did  not 
create  the  universe ;  it  does  not  depend  on 
your  care :  the  world  is  not  yours,  nor  the 
fulness  thereof — no,  nor  even  yourselves: 
ye  are  not  your  own — but  there  is  One  to 
whom  the  whole  belongs ;  "  He  is  Lord  of  all." 
God  cannot  have  an  equal,  and  he  will  not 
have  a  rival.  A  prince  may  be  pleased,  if 
his  subjects  endeavour  to  imitate  him  in  his 
mercy,  his  goodness,  his  truth,  or  in  any  of 
those  virtues  which  are  common  to  persons  in 
all  situations — hereby  they  honour  him — but 
if  they  imitate  him  in  his  regalia — in  those  at- 
tributes and  actions  which  are  peculiar  to  him 
as  a  king;  if,  like  him,  they  aspire  to  wear  a 
crown,  to  enact  laws,  to  declare  peace  and 
war,  to  levy  contributions,  to  new-model  the 
state ;  they  are  guilty  of  high  treason. 

IV.  The  desire  of  having  things  "  accord- 
ing to  our  mind"  is  dangerous — If  it  were  ac- 
complished, all  parties  would  suffer — God — 
our  fellow-creatures — and  ourselves. 

First,  the  honour  of  God  would  suffer. — 
Nothing  now  occurs  by  chance  ;  every  thing 
falls  under  the  regulation  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence ;  and  as  affairs  are  now  managed,  they 
all  subserve  the  purpose  of  Heaven,  they  all 
advance  the  glory  of  God ;  even  "  the  wrath 
of  man  praises  him,  and  the  remainder  of  it 
he  restrains."  Would  this  be  the  sure  result, 
if  you  had  the  direction  of  the  whole  ?  Would 
you  make  the  honour  of  God  invariably  your 
guide?  Would  you  bend  every  claim  and 
every  occurrence  to  this  sublime  end  ?  You 
may  imagine  you  would — and  nothing  is  more 
common  than  to  hear  people  making  costly 
promises,  the  execution  of  which  only  requires 
enlarged  opportunities  and  capacities — But 
"  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things."  No 
man  has  reason  to  conclude  that  he  would 
glorify  God  with  greater  powers,  who  does 
not  employ  for  him  the  abilities  which  he  al- 
ready possesses.  We  may  see  this  exempli- 
fied with  regard  to  property.  Many  professors 
of  religion  whose  wealth  has  increased,  do  less 
in  proportion,  and  I  fear  in  some  cases  less  in 
fact,  for  the  cause  of  God,  than  while  in  more 
limited  circumstances,  and  when  their  pros- 
pects were  not  flattering  enough  to  render  it 
worth  while  for  them  to  become  covetous. 

Secondly,  The  welfare  of  our  fellow-crea- 
tures would  suffer. — The  principle  of  selfish- 
ness is  common  to  depraved  nature.  For  who 
loves  his  neighbour  as  himself?  Who,  in  form- 
ing his  plans,  would  consider  the  conven- 


44 


SERMON  VII. 


iences  and  advantages  of  others,  as  well  as 
fiis  own?  The  traveller  would  have  the  wea- 
ther to  accommodate  his  journey,  regardless  of 
the  parched  fields  of  the  husbandman.  That 
enemy  would  be  disappointed  and  crushed. 
That  favourite  would  be  indulged  to  ruin.  Sel- 
fish individuality  would  every  where  predo- 
minate, and  public  utility  would  be  sacrificed 
on  the  altar  of  private  interest. 

To  come  nearer — Your  own  happiness 
would,  thirdly,  suffer ;  and  you  would  prove 
the  greatest  enemies  to  yourselves. — Yon. 
would  be  too  eager  to  choose  well :  you  would 
not  have  firmness  to  refuse  a  present  gratifi- 
cation for  the  sake  of  a  future  good.  You 
would  be  too  carnal  to  choose  well :  na- 
ture would  speak  before  grace ;  the  pleas- 
ing would  be  preferred  to  the  profitable ; 
imaginary  wants  would  be  more  numerous 
than  real  ones.  The  Israelites  were  cla- 
morous for  "  flesh;"  but  it  was  not  to  re- 
lieve their  necessities :  "  they  asked  meat 
for  their  lusts;"  and  "He  gave  them  their 
hearts'  desire,  but  sent  leanness  into  their 
souls."  As,  in  nature,  the  most  beautiful 
plants  are  not  always  the  most  wholesome  or 
innocent,  so  it  is  in  human  life :  a  thing  is  not 
beneficial  because  it  is  gratifying,  or  good  be- 
cause our  passions  and  appetites  may  pro- 
nounce it  so.  "  Lot  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and 
beheld  all  the  plain  of  Jordan,  that  it  was 
well  watered  every  where.  Then  Lot  chose 
him  all  the  plain  of  Jordan."  It  was  a  sen- 
sual choice;  faith  had  no  influence  in  this  de- 
termination :  it  was  made,  regardless  of  the 
welfare  of  his  soul,  the  salvation  of  his  family, 
and  the  honour  of  religion.  And  in  what 
embarrassments,  dangers,  and  calamities,  did 
this  preference  involve  him !  The  next  time 
we  hear  of  him,  he  is  taken  captive  by  the 
five  kings — then  "  his  righteous  soul  is  vexed 
daily  by  the  filthy  conversation  of  the  ungod- 
ly"— then  he  is  burned  out,  with  the  loss  of 
all  his  substance — some  of  his  relations  perish 
in  the  overthrow — his  wife,  attached  to  the 
place,  looks  back,  and  becomes  a  pillar  of  salt 
— his  two  daughters,  made  shameless  by  the 
manners  of  the  inhabitants,  render  their  fa- 
ther incestuous — and  his  "  grey  hairs  are 
brought  down  with  sorrow  to  the  grave." 

In  a  word,  you  would  be  too  ignorant  to 
choose  well.  Did  you  ever  observe  the  ques- 
tion of  the  inspired  preacher — "  Who  know- 
eth  what  is  good  for  man  in  this  life;  all  the 
days  of  this  vain  life,  which  he  spendeth  as  a 
shadow  ?"  The  answer  is,  No  one  knows. — 
Look  around  you,  and  you  will  see  men  eager 
to  change  their  conditions,  but  proving,  by 
their  behaviour  in  the  new  stations  they  occu- 
py, that  they  are  no  nearer  satisfaction  than 
before.  They  rush  forth,  assured  of  finding  a 
paradise,  but  thorns  and  briers  soon  convince 
them  that  they  are  entangled  in  a  wilderness. 
The  man  of  business  and  the  man  of  leisure 
envy  each  other ;  they  exchange,  and  go  on 


complaining.  The  poor  imagine  that  wealth 
would  free  them  from  care :  they  obtain  it ; 
but  "  in  the  fulness  of  their  sufficiency  they 
are  in  straits."  The  retired  long  for  stations 
of  eminence;  but  beside  the  trouble  and  dan- 
ger of  climbing  the  steep  ascent  of  honour, 
they  are  compelled  to  leave  their  enjoyments 
in  the  vale  below  ;  often  from  the  brow  of  the 
hill  surveying  them ;  often  desiring  them- 
but  they  cannot  get  down  again. 

In  order  to  determine  what  will  promote 
our  happiness,  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  know 
the  things  themselves  from  among  which  we 
are  to  make  our  choice :  how  far  it  is  in  their 
power  to  yield  pleasure  ;  whether  their  natu- 
ral tendency  may  not  be  counteracted ;  what 
are  their  ordinary  effects.  Nor  is  it  less 
needful  to  understand  ourselves.  For  a  man 
must  be  adapted  to  his  condition,  or  he  will 
never  be  happy  in  it :  that  winch  suits  ano- 
ther, may  not  suit  me ;  what  may  wear  easy 
on  him,  may  bean  incumbrance  to  me.  Now 
to  know  whether  a  condition  would  accord 
with  us,  and  be  to  our  advantage,  we  must 
know  ourselves  better  than  we  do :  our 
strength  and  our  weakness ;  our  natural  pe- 
culiarities and  our  acquired  propensities;  our 
intellectual  abilities  and  our  moral  qualifica- 
tions. And  here  another  difficulty  occurs. 
It  is  impossible  for  us  to  judge  of  ourselves  in 
untried  connexions  and  situations:  and  the  rea- 
son is  obvious.  VVe  go  forward  to  these  scenes 
in  imagination  only,  with  our  present  senti- 
ments and  inclinations,  not  remembering  that 
our  characters  are  formed  and  unfolded  by 
circumstances — that  we  change  with  events 
— that  the  friction  of  new  objects  elicits  new 
feelings,  quickens  dormant  guilt,  and  calls 
forth  improbable  corruption.  The  water,  is 
clear  till  the  muddy  sediment  is  disturbed. 
In  private  life,  Hazael  abhorred  the  thought 
of  inhumanity.  When  the  man  of  God 
viewed  him  with  tears,  and  predicted  the 
cruelties  of  his  future  reign,  he  was  filled 
with  horror,  and  exclaimed,  "Is  thy  servant  a 
dog,  that  he  should  do  this  thing  1"  But  he 
went  forward — arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 
throne — exchanged  the  man  for  the  tyrant — 
and  became  the  monster  which  he  had  exe- 
crated. 

We  are  not  only  liable  to  err  on  the  side 
of  our  hopes,  but  also  of  our  fears.  What  in 
distant  prospect  filled  us  with  anxiety  and 
dread,  as  it  approached  more  near,  was  found 
the  beginning  of  a  train  of  friends  and  bless- 
ings, all  hastening  along  to  do  us  good.  Had 
Joseph  remained  under  the  wing  of  his  fond 
father,  he  would  have  lived  and  died  an  in- 
significant individual  ;  but  from  the  pit  and 
the  prison  he  steps  into  the  second  chariot  of 
Egypt,  and  becomes  the  saviour  of  surround- 
ing countries. — Ah  !  if  things  had  been  ar- 
ranged according  to  your  mind,  what  afflic- 
tions would  some  of  you  have  escaped,  and 
what  benefits  would  you  have  lost  !  For 


SERMON  VII. 


4.r, 


though  no  chastening  for  the  present  soometh 
to  be  joyous,  but  grievous,  nevertheless  after- 
ward it  "  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righ- 
teousness to  them  that  are  exercised  thereby." 
And  should  we  not  principally  value  that 
which  is  morally  good  for  us ;  that  which 
influences  and  secures  our  eternal  welfare; 
that  by  which  the  safety  of  the  soul  is  least 
endangered,  and  the  sanctification  of  the  soul 
is  most  promoted  1  Upon  this  principle,  I  am 
persuaded,  many  of  you  are  ready  to  add 
your  testimony  to  the  confessions  of  former 
sufferers,  and  to  say,  "  It  is  good  for  me  that  I 
have  been  afflicted."  "  Disease,"  says  one, 
"  commissioned  from  above,  sought  me  out, 
found  me  in  a  crowd,  detached  me  from  the 
multitude,  led  me  into  a  chamber  of  solitude, 
stretched  me  upon  a  bed  of  languishing,  and 
drew  up  eternity  close  to  my  view — I  never 
prayed  before." — Says  another,  "  My  life  was 
bound  up  in  a  beloved  relation :  I  saw  my 
gourd  smitten,  and  beginning  to  wither;  I 
trembled  ;  I  watched  the  process  of  a  danger 
which  doomed  all  my  happiness  to  the  grave 
— in  that  moment  of  bereavement,  the  world, 
which  had  enamoured,  was  deprived  of  all 
its  attractions ;  I  broke  from  the  arms  of  sym- 
pathising friends,  saying,  Where  is  God  my 
Maker,  that  giveth  songs  in  the  night !  I  en- 
tered my  closet,  and  said,  Now,  Lord,  what 
wait  I  fori  My  hope  is  in  thee." — "Into 
what  miseries,"  says  a  third,  "  should  I  have 
fallen,  if  He  had  given  me  up  in  such  an  en- 
terprize  to  my  own  counsel !  I  should  have 
advanced  till  I  had  fallen  from  a  dangerous 
precipice,  if  He  had  not  hedged  up  my  way 
with  thorns:  at  first,  I  murmured  at  the 
check ;  but  when  I  looked  over,  and  saw  the 
abyss,  I  kneeled,  and  said,  Lord,  I  am  thine ; 
save  me,  in  every  future  peril." — Thus,  by 
experience,  He  has  been  convincing  you, 
that  "  the  way  of  man  is  not  in  himself,"  and 
that  "  it  is  not  in  man  that  walketh  to  direct 
his  steps ;"  and  having  seen  the  hazards  to 
which  you  would  be  exposed  in  managing 
for  yourselves,  you  are  now  on  your  knees, 
saying,  "  He  shall  choose  our  inheritance  for 
us.  Surely  I  have  behaved  and  quieted  my- 
self as  a  child  that  is  weaned  from  his  mo- 
ther :  my  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned  child." 

We  have  one  more  view  to  take  of  the 
subject.  The  desire  of  having  things  "accord- 
ding  to  our  mind,"  is  impracticable. 

Observe  only  two  things.  First,  the  desires 
of  mankind,  in  ten  thousand  instances,  are 
opposite  to  each  other — hence  they  cannot  be 
all  accomplished.  Secondly,  the  plan  of  Di- 
vine government  is  already  fixed — the  ma- 
chine is  in  motion — it  is  rolling  by,  and  we 
can  neither  arrest  its  progress,  nor  give  it  a 
new  direction.  "He  is  in  one  mind,  and 
who  can  turn  Him 1  and  what  his  soul  de- 
sireth,  even  that  He  doeth ;  for  lie  pcrformeth 
the  thing  that  is  appointed  for  me  :  and  many 
such  things  are  with  him.    Our  God  is  in  the 


heavens ;  he  hath  done  whatsoever  he  pleas- 
ed: declaring  the  end  from  the  beginning, 
and  from  ancient  times  the  things  that  are 
not  yet  done,  saying,  My  counsel  shall  stand, 
and  I  will  do  all  my  pleasure."  How  useless 
therefore  is  your  anxiety!  "Which  of  you, 
by  taking  thought,  can  add  one  cubit  to  his 
stature  1"  You  may  repine ;  but  you  fret  and 
rage  in  vain.  God  will  not  yield  up  the 
reins  into  your  hands.  "  He  teareth  himself 
in  his  anger :  shall  the  earth  be  forsaken  for 
thee  1  and  shall  the  rock  be  removed  out  of 
his  place  !"  "  Should  it  be  according  to  thy 
mind  !  He  will  recompense  it,  whether  thou 
refuse,  or  whether  thou  choose." — Having  es- 
tablished a  general  principle,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  make  such  an  application  as  will  pre- 
clude the  abuse  of  it,  and  render  it  useful  to 
promote  resignation,  to  encourage  our  faith, 
to  animate  our  hope. 

First,  Let  not  the  conscientious  Christian 
suppose  himself  guilty  of  the  disposition  we 
censure,  when  he  only  indulges  allowed  de- 
sire. You  may  ask  of  God  any  temporal 
blessing  conditionally,  and  with  submission  to 
the  pleasure  of  the  Almighty.  Are  you  in 
trouble'?  Afflictions  are  not  immutable  dis- 
pensations; and  your  praying  for  their  re- 
moval will  not  be  striving  with  Providence,  if 
you  are  willing  to  refer  the  case  ultimately  to 
the  determination  of  Infinite  Wisdom  and 
Goodness,  and  to  acquiesce  in  the  decision. 
Thus  did  our  Saviour;  "Father,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, let  this  cup  pass  from  me:  nevertheless, 
not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt."  To  offer  a 
humble  petition  differs  widely  from  making  a 
demand,  or  proposing  a  task.  When  our  de- 
sires are  rash,  unqualified,  impetuous,  enforc- 
ing, they  are  not  only  offensive  to  God,  but 
they  injure  the  soul,  and  they  injure  our  cause. 
If,  to  use  the  expression,  when  we  insist  upon 
an  object,  we  are  gratified,  the  indulgence  is 
dreadful — it  is  a  curse.  Thus  God  punished 
the  sinful  importunity  of  the  Jews :  "He  gave 
them  a  king  in  his  anger,  and  took  him  away 
in  his  wrath."  But  if  he  loves  you,  in  such 
a  case  he  will  be  sure  to  deny  you ;  he  will 
teach  you,  by  his  refusal,  that  he  has  a  right 
to  withhold,  and  that  you  have  no  claims  upon 
the  Giver:  he  will  bring  you  to  supplicate  what 
before  you  seemed  to  demand.  He  sees  that 
while  you  are  thus  passionately  eager,  he  can- 
not with  safety  indulge  you  with  the  object , 
you  would  make  too  much  of  it.  He  is  a  Got! 
of  judgment,  and  he  waits  a  cooler  and  more 
sober  frame  of  mind  ;  when  you  can  receive 
it  properly,  and  not  be  so  lost  in  the  gift,  as  to 
disregard  the  Giver.  The  best  way  for  a 
Christian  to  gain  any  temporal  good,  is  to  seek 
after  a  holy  indifference.  The  moment  it 
ceases  to  be  dangerous,  He  will  be  ready  to 
gratify  you,  for  "  He  taketh  pleasure  in  the 
prosperity  of  his  servants." 

Secondly,  The  subject  preaches  submission. 
It  powerfully  urges  you  to  leave  yourselves  to 


46 


SERMON  VIII. 


the  disposal  of  Divine  Providence — to  lie  as 
clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter ;  willing  to  re- 
ceive any  shape  he  chooses  to  give  you,  or  to 
take  any  impression  he  is  pleased  to  impose — 
to  keep  your  eye  towards  the  fiery  cloudy 
pillar,  and  to  be  ready  to  move  as  it  moves, 
turn  as  it  turns,  pause  as  it  pauses.    And  is 
not  all  this  implied  in  your  profession,  reso- 
lutions, and  vows  1  Do  you  not  remember  a 
time  when  you  gave  your  God  what  you  had 
too  long  withheld  from  him — your  heart  J  And 
have  you  not  often  since  renewed  this  engage- 
ment! Are  there  no  seasons  in  your  experi- 
ence, no  spots  in  your  walks,  made  sacred  in 
your  recollection  by  fresh  dedications  of  your- 
selves to  Him  1 — When  the  will  is  in  unison 
with  the  will  of  God,  which  is  perfect  recti- 
tude, it  is  ennobled.    To  be  like-minded  with 
God,  is  the  highest  honour  we  can  ever  pos- 
sess :  to  surrender  ourselves  to  his  pleasure, 
is  the  purest  act  of  obedience  we  can  ever  per- 
form.   It  is  the  essence  of  holiness,  to  do  what 
God  loves,  and  to  love  what  God  does.  And 
as  nothing  can  be  more  pious,  so  nothing  can 
be  more  wise  than  such  a  resignation.   If  your 
will  corresponds  with  the  will  of  God,  you  may 
be  al  ways  sure  of  its  accomplishment :  "  Com- 
mit thy  works  unto  the  Lord,  and  thy  thoughts 
shall  be  established."    This  is  the  oniy  way 
to  be  happy  in  a  miserable  world  :  on  this  all 
your  satisfaction  depends.    He  knows  what 
things  you  have  need  of,  and  what  will  be  for 
your  advantage.    Depend  on  Him.  Follow 
Him.    Secure  His  favour :  refer  all  to  Him, 
and  leave  all  with  Him.    "  It  is  vain  for  you 
to  rise  up  early,  to  sit  up  late,  to  eat  the  bread 
of  sorrows ;  for  so  he  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 
— "  Be  careful  for  nothing ;  but  in  every  thing, 
by  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving, 
let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God — 
and  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  un- 
derstanding, shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds 
through  Christ  Jesus." 

Thirdly,  Let  the  subject  inspire  you  with 
consolation.  Make  use  of  the  question  to  re- 
press all  the  uneasiness  which  you  would 
otherwise  feel  when  you  contemplate  the  di- 
versity of  human  affairs.  Remember  it  when 
you  think  of  the  world,  and  your  imagination 
is  busied  in  schemes  of  revolution  and  reform- 
ation. Remember  it  when  you  think  of  the 
state  of  the  nation,  and  deplore  many  things 
which  appear  deplorable,  and  desire  many 
things  which  appear  desirable.  Remember  it 
when  you  think  of  the  condition  of  the  Church; 
when  you  ask,  "  Why  such  diversities  of 
opinion  among  its  leaders !  Why  such  frequent 
persecution  of  its  members?  Why  are  they 
generally  so  poor  and  afflicted  ?  Why  are 
they  all  the  day  long  plagued,  and  chastened 
every  morning;  while  their  ungodly  neigh- 
bours abound  in  affluence  and  indulgence  1 
Should  the  sinner  live  within,  clothed  in  pur- 
ple and  fine  linen,  and  faring  sumptuously 
every  day ;  while  the  saint  lies  at  his  gate,  a 


beggar  full  of  sores  ?"  Remember  it,  when 
you  think  of  the  circumstances  of  the  family; 
when,  driven  in  from  a  troublesome  world, 
and  hoping  to  find  an  asylum  there,  you  are 
forced  as  you  enter  to  sigh,  with  David,  "  My 
house  is  not  so  with  God."  Remember  it 
when  you  think  of  your  respective  cases  as 
individuals:  ofperplexites  and  fears ;  oflosses 
and  vexations;  of  pain  of  body  ;  of  imperfec- 
tions of  mind ;  of  continuance  in  this  world — 
"  Should  it  be  according  to  thy  mind  1  or  ac- 
cording to  the  purpose  of  Him  who  worketh 
all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will; 
and  who  is  wonderful  in  counsel,  and  excel- 
lent in  working  ?" 

Finally,  Let  all  this  lead  you  forward,  and 
draw  forth  your  expectation  of  another,  and  a 
more  glorious  oeconomy.  Beyond  this  vale  of 
tears  lies  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  ho- 
ney. You  are  now  in  a  state  of  probation 
and  discipline ;  but  trials  and  corrections  will 
I  not  be  always  necessary.  The  denials  and 
restraints,  to  which  the  heir  of  glory  submits 
while  he  is  a  child,  cease  when  he  comes  of 
age.  You  now  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by 
sight ;  soon  you  will  walk  by  sight,  and  not 
by  faith.  What  you  know  not  now,  you  will 
know  hereafter.  You  will  then  find  your- 
selves infinitely  more  happy,  by  the  Divine 
disposal  of  all  your  concerns,  than  you  could 
have  been,  had  you  always  enjoyed  your  own 
wishes.  When,  from  the  top  of  the  holy  hill 
of  Zion,  you  shall  look  down  upon  the  wind- 
ing path  of  Providence,  by  which  you  ascend- 
ed, you  will  praise  Him  for  the  means  as  well 
as  for  the  end,  admire  his  wisdom  as  well 
as  his  kindness,  and  say,  "He  hath  done  all 
things  well." 

Some  of  your  friends  and  relations  are  gone 
before  you.  In  his  light  they  see  light  To 
them  the  whole  mystery  is  now  explained. 
Blessed  spirits,  how  we  envy  you  !  We  see 
Him  through  a  glass  darkly;  and  half  the 
time  cannot  spy  at  Him  at  all :  you  see  Him 
face  to  face ;  you  know  even  as  you  are 
known. — Well,  Christians,  they  are  waiting 
"  to  receive  us  into  everlasting  habitations ;" 
we  shall  soon  join  them  ;  we  shall  soon  unite 
in  their  acknowledgments  and  adorations, 
and  this  will  be  our  eternal  theme  :  "  Mar- 
vellous are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty! 
Just  and  right  are  all  thy  ways,  O  thou  King 
of  saints." 


SER3ION  VIII. 


THE  GOSPEL  DEMANDS  AND  DE- 
SERVES ATTENTION. 

If  any  man  have  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear. 

Mark  iv.  23. 

The  sages  of  antiquity  delivered  much  of 
their  knowledge  in  comprehensive  sentences. 
Each  of  the  wise  men  of  Greece  was  distin- 
guished by  some  aphorism.    All  nations  have 


SERMON  VIII. 


47 


had  their  peculiar  proverbs.  The  generality  of 
mankind  are  much  more  influenced  by  de- 
tached and  striking  phrases,  than  by  long  ad- 
dresses, or  laboured  reasonings,  which  require 
more  time  and  application  than  they  are  ei- 
ther willing  or  able  to  afford.  "The  words  of 
the  wise  are  as  goads,  and  as  nails  fastened  by 
the  master  of  assemblies."  The  good  effects 
of  preaching  are  commonly  produced  by  parti- 
cular expressions,  which  leave  something  for 
our  own  minds  to  develop  or  enlarge,  which 
please  the  imagination,  which  are  easily  re- 
membered, and  which  frequently  recur.  This 
method  of  instruction  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
adopted.  We  often  read  of  "  his  sayings ;" 
and  there  is  no  sentence  which  he  so  frequent- 
ly repeated,  as  the  words  which  I  have  read. 
— This  alone  should  powerfully  recommend 
them  to  our  regard.  But  they  have  higher 
claims ;  and  we  shall  view  them,  I.  As  im- 
plying THE  AUTHORITY  OF  THE  SPEAKER.  II.' 

As  suggesting  the  importance  of  the  sub- 
ject. III.  As  appealing  to  impartial  con- 
sideration. IV.  As  demanding  practical 
improvement. — "He  that  hath  ears  to 
hear,  let  him  hear." 

I.  Here  is  implied  the  authority  of  the 
Speaker.  And  who  can  advance  claims  on 
our  attention  equally  numerous  and  powerful 
with  his  ? — "  He  entered  into  the  synagogue, 
and  taught.  And  they  were  astonished  at  his 
doctrine ;  for  he  taught  them  as  one  that  had 
authority,  and  not  as  the  Scribes."  He  pos- 
sessed every  thing  from  which  a  teacher  could 
derive  influence. 

He  had  all  the  authority  which  is  derived 
from  knowledge.  Religion  was  the  subject 
he  came  to  teach.  He  knew  the  whole,  and 
the  whole  perfectly.  With  all  the  ease  of 
intelligence,  he  speaks  of  things  which  would 
swallow  us  up — they  were  familiar  to  him: 
He  speaks  of  God  without  any  embarrassment 
— "  He  was  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father."  He 
speaks  of  heaven  without  any  emotions  of  won- 
der— it  was  his  Father's  house.  He  mentions 
the  treachery  of  Judas  without  any  surprise 
— "he  knew  from  the  beginning  who  would 
betray  him."  Nothing  in  the  behaviour  of 
his  enemies,  or  of  his  friends ;  nothing  in  the 
denial  of  Peter,  or  dispersion  of  his  disciples; 
astonished  him — "  he  knew  what  was  in  man." 
He  was  fully  acquainted  with  the  capacities 
and  dispositions  of  his  hearers.  He  knew  how 
much  they  were  able  to  bear — when  it  was 
necessary  to  produce  evidence,  or  to  leave  ob- 
scurity— how  to  touch  by  suitable  motives  all 
the  hidden  springs  of  action ;  and,  by  appro- 
priate illustration,  to  remove  prejudices,  dis- 
solve doubts,  and  satisfy  desires  concealed  in 
the  minds  of  the  owners,  who,  "  finding  the  se- 
crets of  the  heart  made  manifest,"  were  filled 
with  admiration,  and  exclaimed,  "Never 
man  spake  like  this  man !"  Both  his  subject 
and  his  audience  were  completely  under  his 
management. 


He  had  all  the  authority  which  is  derived 
from  unimpeachable  rectitude.  This  gives  a 
speaker  peculiar  firmness  and  force.  A  con- 
sciousness of  vice,  or  even  of  imperfection, 
has  a  tendency  to  make  him  partial  or  timid. 
And  where  is  the  teacher  who  is  sensible  of 
no  failings  ?  who  exemplifies  universally  those 
high  instructions  that  he  delivers  ?  "  In  ma- 
ny things  we  offend  all."  He  alone  could  say, 
"  Which  of  you  convinceth  me  of  sin  ?"  No 
evil  debased  any  of  his  actions,  or  mixed  with 
any  of  his  motives.  His  tempers  were  all 
heavenly ;  his  example  embodied  and  enliven- 
ed every  doctrine  he  preached.  In  him  were 
none  of  those  omissions  which  call  for  the  pro- 
verb, "Physician,  heal  thyself."  He  spake 
fearless  of  the  reproach  of  his  hearers,  and 
unchecked  by  the  reflections  of  his  own  con- 
science. 

He  had  all  the  authority  flowing  from  "  mi- 
racles, and  wonders,  and  signs."  Think  of  a 
speaker,  who  could  call  forth  the  powers  of 
heaven  and  earth,  and  establish  his  doctrine 
by  their  testimony — who  could  end  his  dis- 
course, and  say — "  All  this  is  true.  Witness, 
ye  winds  and  waves" — and  they  "  cease  from 
their  raging."  "  Witness,  ye  blind" — and 
they  "  receive  their  sight."  "  Witness,  ye 
dead" — and  "  Lazarus  comes  forth." — "  Rab- 
bi, we  know  that  thou  art  a  teacher  sent  from 
God ;  for  no  man  can  do  these  miracles  which 
thou  doest,  except  God  be  with  him." 

Consider  his  uncontrollable  dominion. — 
There  is  no  place  where  his  voice  does  not 
reign.  He  causes  the  most  insensible  creatures 
to  hear  it. — In  the  original  creation, "  he  spake, 
and  it  was  done ;  he  commanded,  and  it  stood 
fast  He  appointeth  the  moon  for  seasons; 
and  the  sun  knoweth  his  going  down.  The 
day  is  his ;  the  night  also  is  his  :  he  has  made 
summer  and  winter :"  and  when  he  calls  for 
them,  they  never  refuse  to  come.  Even  the 
unruly  sea  acquiesces  in  his  mandate— "  Hith- 
erto shalt  thou  come,  and  no  further ;  and 
here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed."  The 
earth  obeys  the  laws  which  he  impressed  up- 
on it.  "  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  powerful : 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty :  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  breaketh  the  cedars :  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  divideth  the  flames  of  fire  : 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  shaketh  the  wilderness. 
— Marvel  not  at  this  :  for  the  hour  is  coming, 
in  the  which  all  that  are  in  their  graves 
shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth." — 
Obeyed  by  all  creatures,  he  approaches  you, 
and  expects  submission.  Would  you  be  the 
only  rebels  in  the  universe  1  Unlike  all  other 
beings,  would  you  swerve  from  your  station 
and  renounce  your  allegiance  ?  Harder  than 
the  rock,  and  more  senseless  than  the  dead, 
would  you  refuse  to  hear  his  voice  1 

Consider  the  dignity  of  his  character. — 
"  Where  the  word  of  a  king  is,  there  is  power ; 
and  who  may  say  unto  him,  what  doest  thou  ?" 
The  most  magnificent  titles  are  not  too  glori- 


4^ 


SERMON  VIII. 


ous  to  discriminate  the  Son  of  God.    "  He  ] 
hath  on  his  vesture  and  on  his  thigh  a  Name  ] 
written — King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords."  i 
Was  Isaiah  mistaken,  when  he  said  of  the  ; 
"  Child  born,  and  the  Son  given,"  "  The  go- 
vernment shall  be  upon  his  shoulder;  and  his 
Name  shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor, 
the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father,  the 
Prince  of  Peace  !"  Did  he  himself  exceed  his 
personal  claims  when  he  said,  "  I  am  Alpha 
and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  ending ; 
which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come 
—the  Almighty  7" 

And  does  He  not  stand  in  relations  the  most 
intimate  and  affecting!  He  made  you — 
placed  you  so  high  in  the  scale  of  being — en- 
dued your  nature  with  reason  and  immortali- 
ty. He  sustains  you — "  In  Him  you  live,  and 
move,  and  have  your  being."  His  are  all 
your  possessions ;  and  if  there  be  a  day,  or  an 
hour,  in  which  he  is  regardless  of  you,  you 
shall  be  allowed,  for  that  day  or  hour,  to  be 
inattentive  to  Him.  His  demands  are  found- 
ed, in  the  sun  which  shines  upon  you — in  the 
friends  you  enjoy — in  the  bread  which  nou- 
rishes you — and,  above  all,  in  the  salvation 
you  need.  He  addresses  you  from  the  gar- 
den and  the  cross — and  shall  his  voice  be  un- 
heard 7  Shall  such  an  authority  be  despised  ] 
Will  you  stand  with  Pharaoh,  and  impiously 
ask,  "  Who  is  the  Lord,  that  I  should  obey 
his  voice?" — Why:  "He,  in  whose  hands 
thy  breath  is,  and  whose  are  all  thy  ways" — 
He,  "  who  remembered"  thee  in  thy  "  low 
estate" — He,  "  who  gave  his  life  a  ransom" 
for  thee — He  is  thy  master.  And  shall  ser- 
vants disobey  the  orders  of  a  master]  Thy 
teacher — and  shall  disciples  refuse  the  instruc- 
tions of  their  teacher  ]  Thy  benefactor — and 
have  loving-kindnesses  and  tender  mercies  no 
claims  1 — Let  us  pass  from  the  authority  of 
the  Speaker,  to  consider  what  is  equally  in- 
cluded in  the  address. 

II.    The   IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  SUBJECT  

"  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear." 
Sometimes  speakers  promise  their  hearers 
more  than  they  can  perform,  and  excite  expec- 
tations which  they  are  unable  to  realize — Je- 
sus Christ  is  not  afraid  to  awaken  attention ; 
he  knows  that  he  can  more  than  repay  it ;  he 
knows  we  can  never  raise  our  minds  to  the 
grandeur  of  the  subject. — His  instructions  are 
unspeakably  interesting  and  important. 

But,  in  order  to  this,  they  must  be  true. 
And,  my  brethren,  you  cannot  but  acknow- 
ledge, that  the  reality  of  these  things  is  pos- 
sible— sometimes  it  strikes  you  as  probable, 
and  much  more  frequently  than  you  are  will- 
ing to  allow :  hence  your  uneasiness ;  hence 
your  eagerness  to  bring  forward  your  opi- 
nions, to  make  proselytes,  and  to  embolden 
your  trembling  faith  by  placing  numbers 
around  it — We  affirm  that  these  things  are 
true. — And  observe  where  we  stand  when 
we  affirm  it — within  view  of  evidences, 


numberless  and  convincing.  There  we  ap- 
peal to  a  series  of  prophecies  ;  and  here,  to  a 
train  of  miracles.  There,  to  the  sublimity 
and  holiness  of  the  doctrine;  here,  to  the 
competency  and  goodness  of  the  writers. 
There,  to  the  success  of  the  Gospel,  desti- 
tute of  every  worldly  recommendation,  and 
in  the  face  of  the  most  powerful  opposi- 
tion ;  here,  to  the  blood  of  the  best  of  men, 
and  the  consent  of  the  wisest  of  men  :  for  we 
stand  not  only  near  the  fishermen  of  Galilee, 
but  a  multitude  of  pre-eminent  genius  and 
learning,  when  we  say,  "  We  have  not  fol- 
lowed cunningly  devised  fables."  With  all 
this  evidence,  would  you  dispute  the  truth  of 
these  things]  Would  you  assure  us,  as 
some  in  our  day  have  done,  that  there  is  not 
the  shadow  of  truth  in  them  ? — What  should 
we  think  of  the  understandings  of  such  per- 
sons ] — did  we  not  know  that  they  must  pre- 
tend all  this  tojustify  their  indifference — that 
when  a  man  has  fallen  out  with  his  con- 
science, he  must  separate  from  it,  for  the  sake 
of  his  own  peace — and  that  "  this  is  the  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  the  world, 
and  men  love  darkness  rather  than  light,  be- 
cause their  deeds  are  evil." 

How  pleasing  is  truth !  How  satisfactory 
is  it  to  find  something  to  which  the  mind  may 
adhere  with  pleasure,  after  being  the  dupe  of 
ignorance  and  error,  and,  "  like  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  driven  with  the  wind  and  tossed." — But 
though  that  which  is  important  must  always 
be  true,  that  which  is  true  is  not  always  im- 
portant It  is  otherwise  here — as  the  Gospel 
is  "  a  faithful  saying,"  so  it  is  "  worthy  of  all 
acceptation."  Even  "the  angels  desire  to 
look  into  these  things."  We  no  where  read 
of  their  being  naturalists  or  astronomers ;  yet 
they  pass  by  the  moon  and  stars,  and  press 
around  the  cross.  And  you,  my  brethren, 
are  much  more  concerned  than  angels :  I 
may  take  up  the  language  of  Moses  to  the 
Israelites — "  Set  your  hearts  unto  all  the 
words  which  I  testify  among  you  this  day ; 
for  it  is  not  a  vain  thing,  because  it  is  your 
life."  To  you  the  Gospel  is  not  a  history  of 
wonders  only ;  the  journey  of  a  God  from  a 
throne  down  to  a  cross,  and  from  a  cross  back 
to  a  throne :  it  is  the  interesting  narrative  of 
your  salvation.  Take  every  other  kind  of 
wisdom — how  humbling  its  claims !  They 
are  confined  to  this  world.  "  Knowledge — it 
shall  vanish  away."  The  greater  part  of  it  is 
valuable  only  for  a  few  years.  An  acquaint- 
ance with  various  languages,  and  a  thousand 
other  things,  will  be  useless  in  a  future  ceco- 
nomy.  The  inquiry  is,  "  Who  has  the  words 
of  eternal  life  ]"  "  Who  can  lead  us  in  the 
way  everlasting  ]"  What  is  a  message 
which  concerns  only  your  property,  and  the 
health  of  your  body  7  The  soul  is  the  stand- 
;  ard  of  the  man.  Your  supreme  happiness 
i  must  relate  principally  to  the  chief  part  of 
,  your  nature,  and  the  chief  period  of  your  du- 


SERMON  VIII. 


4'J 


ration.  Now  the  Gospel  fixes  its  residence 
in  the  soul ;  and  there  illuminates  all,  sanc- 
tifies all,  harmonizes  all,  and  strikes  its  bless- 
ed influences  through  eternal  ages. 

Contemplate  the  Gospel  in  connexion  with 
youth  and  witli  age ;  observe  its  efficacy  in 
the  various  conditions  of  prosperity  and  ad- 
versity ;  view  its  agency  in  the  numerous  re- 
lations of  life — in  rulers  and  in  subjects,  in 
parents  and  in  children.  Place  Christianity 
in  a  family  ;  spread  it  through  a  nation  ;  dif- 
fuse it  over  the  world — let  all  be  influenced 
by  its  spirit,  and  governed  by  its  dictates : 
and  I  would  ask,  appealing  to  infidels  them- 
selves, Would  not  a  scene  be  produced,  the 
most  lovely,  the  most  glorious,  the  most  bene- 
ficial !  Would  not  the  language  of  prophecy 
be  immediately  realized — "The  wilderness 
and  the  solitary  place  shall  be  made  glad  for 
them  ;  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice,  and  blos- 
som as  the  rose.  It  shall  blossom  abundantly, 
and  rejoice  even  with  joy  and  singing :  the 
glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given  unto  it,  the 
excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon  :  they  shall 
see  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the  excel- 
lency of  our  God  V  Thus,  whether  we  con- 
sider the  Gospel  with  regard  to  man  in  his 
individual  or  social  existence  ;  as  an  inhabi- 
tant of  time  or  an  heir  of  eternity ;  it  is  a 
universal  benefactor ;  and,  as  it  demands,  so 
it  deserves  all  his  attention : — "  If  any  man 
have  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear." 

III.  It  is  an  appeal  to  impartial  con- 
sideration. And  the  demand  supposes  the 
subject  to  be  accessible — that  there  is  no  se- 
crecy in  the  case — nothing  to  be  concealed. 
In  heathenism,  there  were  many  mysteries, 
from  a  knowledge  of  which,  the  common 
people,  the  mass  of  mankind,  were  always 
excluded. — Error  needs  disguise ;  hence  we 
read  of  men  who  shall  "  privily  bring  in  damn- 
able heresies."  Truth  glories  in  exposure. 
And  the  Gospel  has  this  character  of  truth. 
The  founder  of  our  religion  declared,  "  In 
secret  have  I  said  nothing."  The  Apostle  of 
the  Gentiles  could  affirm,  "  this  thing  was  not 
done  in  a  corner."  These  everlasting  records 
lie  open  for  inspection  ;  they  challenge  exami- 
nation. It  is  not  necessary  to  conceal  any 
thing;  the  cause  will  derive  advantage  from 
publicity;  it  is  a  system  of  truth  and  evi- 
dence :  and  you  are  not  only  allowed,  but 
commanded  to  consider  its  claims,  and  to 
examine  its  contents. 

The  duty  our  Saviour  enjoins  excludes 
force,  and  supposes  every  thing  to  be  free. 
All  dominion  over  conscience  is  forbidden 
by  it.  Mahometanism  was  enforced  by  the 
sword:  soldiers  were  the  apostles  of  the 
Koran.  Popery  began  and  was  maintained 
by  means  of  spritual  usurpation.  They  knew 
the  danger  of  free  inquiry,  and  shewed  their 
wisdom  in  not  suffering  it:  they  destroyed 
the  right  of  private  judgment,  took  away  the 
Scriptures,  and  made  ignorance  the  mother  of 
G  5 


devotion.  The  blind  must  depend  upon  a 
guide.  And  has  not  too  much  of  this  dispo- 
sition been  discovered  in  succeeding  ages, 
and  by  persons  who  have  come  much  nearer 
the  truth  1  Have  they  not  refused  to  others  a 
liberty  which  they  had  nobly  taken  them- 
selves ]  After  scorning  to  be  slaves,  have  they 
never  wished  to  be  tyrants  1  And  though 
they  would  not  call  any  man  master,  have 
they  not  desired  to  be  called  master?  But 
"  one  is  our  Master,  even  Christ,  and  all  we 
are  brethren."  No  one  has  dominion  over 
the  faith  of  another.  No  coercive  influence, 
however  exercised,  has  the  least  countenance 
from  the  nature  of  the  Gospel,  or  the  manner 
in  which  it  was  established.  The  Bereans 
are  commended  for  "  searching  the  Scrip- 
tures daily,"  and  comparing  the  preaching  of 
Paul  and  Silas  with  the  testimonies  of  the 
law  and  the  prophets.  Hear  the  language  of 
a  man  who  well  knew  there  was  no  virtue  in 
the  effects  of  compulsion — "Prove  all  things, 
and  hold  fast  that  which  is  good :"  "  I  speak 
as  unto  wise  men,  judge  ye  what  I  say."  The 
Gospel  persuades  by  informing ;  and  even  re- 
generation does  not  destroy  the  natural  order 
of  operation  in  the  faculties  of  the  mind. 
God  enlightens  in  order  to  govern;  we  follow 
him  from  choice :  this  choice  is  founded  in 
conviction  ;  and  this  conviction  is  produced 
by  evidence. 

If  you  would  comply  with  our  Lord's  de- 
mand, remember,  it  is  the  Gospel  you  have 
to  consider,  and  nothing  else.    Separate  from 
it  whatever  is  adventitious  and  human ;  and 
during  this  investigation,  keep  the  subject  be- 
fore you,  pure  and  unmixed.    Be  careful  that 
it  is  Christianity  you  are  surveying — not  any 
corruptions  and  errors  which  have  blended 
with  it;  not  any  modifications  and  arrange- 
ments which  fallible  men  have  made  of  it. 
Ask  for  a  Bible,  and  see  that  no  spiritual  le- 
gerdemain slip  on  the  tabie  in  the  room  of  it, 
— Popery  or  Protestanism,  Arminianism  or 
Calvinism,  or  any  other  human  creed  or  sys- 
tem.   These  may  be  true,  or  they  may  be 
false :  they  are  not  standards  ;  they  are  to  be 
all  tried  themselves.    Ask  for  the  things  of 
God,  "  not  in  the  words  which  man's  wisdom 
teacheth,  but  in  the  words  the  Holy  Ghost 
teacheth."    Pistinguish  between  Scripture, 
and  explanations  of  Scripture;  see  with  your 
own  eyes ;  explore  the  good  land  for  your- 
selvps,  and  before  you  enter,  suffer  none  to 
require  from  you  a  promise,  that  when  you 
return,  you  shall  think  precisely  with  them 
concerning  every  thing  you  may  discover 
there.    This  Divine  preacher  calls  you  to 
come  and  hear  him.  If  another  should  step  in  to 
prepossess  you  as  you  are  going — if  he  should 
say,  "  Remember,  this  will  be  his  meaning, 
though  many  of  his  words  will  seem  to  have 
another  sense.    Some  things  will  require 
great  qualifications.    Sometimes  there  will 
be  a  difference  between  his  secret,  and  his  re- 


BO 


SERMON  VIII. 


vealed  will;"  and  soon:  say,  "I  will  hear  him 
for  myself.  He  speaks  to  be  understood.  I 
have  understanding  as  well  as  you.  What  I 
borrow  is  not  mine  own." 

But  nothing  is  more  adverse  to  our  Sa- 
viour's demand  than  dissipation.  Attention  is 
absolutely  necessary  ;  and,  in  order  to  it,  we 
must  call  in  our  thoughts  and  fix  them.  The 
more  finite  and  contracted  our  powers  are  ; 
the  more  loose  and  roving  our  minds;  the 
more  averse  we  feel  to  reflection :  the  more 
intellectual  and  spiritual  the  subject,  the  more 
necessary,  and  the  more  difficult,  application 
becomes.  But  labour  and  diligence  will  be 
amply  rewarded  in  the  pleasure  of  progress 
and  the  glory  of  success.  "  If  thou  incline 
thine  ear  unto  wisdom,  and  apply  thine  heart 
to  understanding;  if  thou  criest  after  know- 
ledge, and  liftest  up  thy  voice  for  understand- 
ing ;  if  thou  seekesther  as  silver,  and  search- 
est  for  her  as  for  hid  treasure :  then  shalt 
thou  understand  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  find 
the  knowledge  of  God.  For  the  Lord  giveth 
wisdom  ;  out  of  his  mouth  cometh  knowledge 
and  understanding." 

But  it  is  of  little  use  to  apply  a  mind  al- 
ready biased.  We  are  therefore  to  guard 
against  prejudice.  This  will  always  make 
us  partial :  it  will  keep  us  from  doing  justice 
to  any  sentiment  we  dislike ;  while  it  will 
lead  us  to  seize  with  greediness  whatever  is 
capable  of  giving  evidence  or  importance  to 
the  opinions  we  have  espoused. 

No  prejudices  are  more  simple  than  those 
which  are  derived  from — "  Our  fathers  wor- 
shipped in  this  mountain."  But  none  are  so 
awful  as  those  which  spring  from  sinful  lusts 
and  passions.  These  will  affect  practical 
subjects;  entangle  the  plainest  duties;  and 
perplex  every  rule  by  which  we  are  unwill- 
ing to  walk.  In  this  case,  a  man,  before  he 
weighs  evidences,  will  examine  consequences. 
"  Why,  if  I  own  this,  I  must  renounce  the 
world.  I  must  pluck  out  a  right  eye,  and  cut 
off  a  right  hand.  I  must  take  up  my  cross.  I 
must  be  serious,  and  be  circumspect  in  my 
conversation."  Such  inferences  are  argu- 
ments ;  and  they  easily  prevail  with  unholy 
minds,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  family  worship, 
and  the  reception  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Impatience  disqualifies  us  for  religious  in- 
vestigation. If  we  review  life,  we  shall  find 
that  many  of  our  mistakes  and  errors  have 
been  occasioned  by  a  hasty  judgment.  How 
changed  have  things  appeared  when  the  mind 
has  returned  to  them  at  another  time,  and 
from  a  different  quarter  ! 

We  shall  only  add,  that  nothing  is  so  un- 
favourable to  fair  and  successful  inquiry,  as 
pride.  We  should  come  to  the  Gospel,  not 
full,  but  to  be  filled ;  not  to  cavil,  but  to 
learn :  sensible  of  our  ignorance,  and  praying 
for  Divine  direction:  and  receiving  "the 
kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child."    «  With 


the  lowly  is  wisdom."  "The  meek  will  He 
guide  in  judgment,  and  the  meek  will  he  teach 
his  way."  Gather  up  all  these.  Here  is 
the  Gospel,  unveiled  and  exposed.  You  need 
not  be  afraid  to  approach  it.  No  authority 
can  restrain  you.  Be  sure,  however,  that  it 
is  the  Gospel  only  you  investigate.  Banish 
dissipation,  prejudice,  impatience,  and  pride; 
— and  we  are  neither  ashamed  nor  afraid  to 
say,  search,  examine  the  whole  system. 

Examine  the  character  the  sacred  writers 
have  given  us  of  God.  Is  he  not  a  Father,  the 
Father  of  mercies,  the  God  of  all  grace,  the 
God  of  love  J  Examine  the  representation  they 
have  given  of  man — Does  it  not  agree  with 
actual  life  and  daily  observation]  Examine 
the  threatenings  they  have  denounced,  and  the 
warnings  they  have  given — Do  they  not  ac- 
cord with  the  judgments  which  God  has  fre- 
quently inflicted  on  individuals,  families,  and 
countries,  and  which  prove  a  moral  govern- 
ment in  the  world  1  Examine  the  promises — 
Are  they  not  such  as  the  state,  and  the  con- 
science of  man  require  1  Where  do  they  coun- 
tenance sin]  Examine  the  precepts — take 
only  the  command,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbour 
as  thyself:"  What  think  you  of  this  command; 
or,  rather,  what  think  you  of  those  men  who 
wish  to  exclude  this  principle,  and  to  destroy 
a  book,  the  grand  aim  of  which  is  to  produce 
it  7 — But,  alas !  many  condemn  a  work  which 
they  never  read.  Nothing  is  more  absurd  than 
to  suppose  that  infidels  renounce  the  Gospel 
by  the  force  of  conviction,  after  having  fully 
and  impartially  examined  its  contents.  Be 
assured,  they  never  weighed  the  subject, 
though  they  are  always  bold  enough  to  pro- 
nounce that  it  is  "found  wanting." — Few 
ever  give  these  things  a  due  consideration. 

— Here,  however,  another  class  of  charac- 
ters appears  in  view ;  for  while  some  refuse 
to  hear,  others  give  these  things  a  hearing 
only.  Now  though  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
intends  nothing  less  than  hearing,  he  requires 
much  more — 

IV.  He  demands  a  practical  improve- 
ment of  his  word.  "  He  that  hath  ears  to 
hear,  let  him  hear." — "  I  have  delivered  many 
things  in  your  presence,  and  you  have  done 
well  in  hearing  them.  But  my  preaching  is 
not  to  be  viewed  as  an  entertainment.  My  doc- 
trine is  not  designed  to  amuse  the  mind,  to 
gratify  curiosity,  to  furnish  a  number  of  life- 
less speculations.  Hearing  is  only  instrument- 
al to  something  else ;  there  is  a  duty  of  great- 
er importance  still  remaining." 

What  is  it,  my  brethren  1  What  would  our 
Saviour  say,  in  explanation  of  his  command  1 
What  has  he  said  in  other  parts  of  his  word  1 
— "  Mix  faith  with  it — Let  not  the  sense  leave 
the  mind  as  soon  as  the  sound  leaves  the  ear 
— Remember  it — Enliven  it  by  meditation — 
Reduce  it  into  feelings  and  actions — Fear 


SERMON  VIII. 


51 


these  denunciations — Embrace  these  promises 
— Obey  these  commands — Walk  according  to 
this  rule." 

It  is  a  lamentable  reflection,  that  all  the 
concern  many  of  our  hearers  have  with  ser- 
mons, consists  in  hearing  them.  They  do  not 
consider  hearing  as  the  means  of  becoming 
religious — it  is  their  religion.  They  conclude 
that  their  duty  is  over  when  the  discourse  is 
ended — whereas  it  is  then  only  begun.  In- 
stead of  carrying  off  portions  of  divine  wisdom 
to  illuminate  their  lives,  they  leave  behind 
them  all  the  instructions  they  have  received. 
They  do  not  take  the  word  of  God  along  with 
them,  to  guide  them  in  their  ordinary  walk ; 
to  arm  them  against  temptation;  to  furnish 
them  with  the  cautions  of  prudence ;  to  sti- 
mulate them  to  universal  conscientiousness. 
Their  tempers  are  unsubdued,  unsoftened,  un- 
eanctified :  their  conversation  produces  none 
of"  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit;  which  is  love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness, 
faith,  meekness,  temperance."  But  the  word 
of  God  is  practical ;  every  truth  is  announced 
to  accomplish  some  purpose.  If  it  reveals  a 
refuge,  it  is  that  you  may  enter  in  and  be  safe. 
If  it  proclaims  a  remedy,  it  is  that  you  may 
use  it :  it  is  not  your  hearing  of  it,  but  your 
applying  it,  that  will  save  you  from  death. — 
You  say  of  a  preacher,  he  ought  to  do,  as  well 
as  to  preach — and  we  say  of  a  hearer,  he 
ought  to  do,  as  well  as  to  hear.  You  say, 
and  you  say  truly,  that  mere  preaching  will 
not  save  us ;  and  we  say,  with  equal  truth, 
mere  hearing  will  not  save  you.  Never 
will  you  attend  the  dispensation  of  the  word 
aright,  till  you  make  the  end  which  God  has 
in  view,  in  speaking,  your  end  in  hearing — 
And  can  you  imagine  that  the  design  of  the 
blessed  God,  in  favouring  you  with  his  "glo- 
rious Gospel"  from  sabbath  to  sabbath,  is  an- 
swered, if,  while  you  regularly  enter  his 
courts,  you  always  return  the  same  1 — if,  af- 
ter all  the  sermons  you  have  applauded  for 
twenty  or  forty  years,  you  are  found  as  malig- 
nant, as  covetous,  as  full  of  the  world,  as  be- 
fore?— or  if  your  profiting  appears  only  in 
some  dead  notions,  very  well  laid  out  in  your 
minds — in  a  capacity  to  weigh  preachers  in 
the  nicest  scales  of  orthodoxy ;  or  in  the  use- 
ful employment  of  splitting  hairs,  and  tying 
and  untying  knots  ]  What!  does  the  "Gospel 
of  your  salvation"  intend  nothing  more,  than 
to  make  you  visionaries  ortriflers'!  Is  this, 
teaching  you,  that,  denying  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  you  should  live  soberly,  righ- 
teously, and  godly  in  the  present  world  ?" 

To  persons  concerned  for  the  honour  of  the 
Gospel  and  the  salvation  of  mankind,  the 
Christian  world  presents  an  affecting  prospect. 
Never  was  the  word  of  God  more  plentifully 
preached  ;  never  did  so  many  "  receive  the 
grace  of  God  in  vain."  Never  was  there 
more  seed  sown ;  never  did  so  much  fall  "  by 
the  way-side,  on  stony  places,  and  among 


thorns."  How  little  docs  even  the  good 
ground  yield !  Where  is  the  preacher,  the 
close  of  whose  sabbaths  is  not  embittered  by 
the  review  of  unprofitableness'!  You  invite 
us  to  your  tables  ;  you  crowd  us  in  your  tem- 
ples: but  you  compel  us  to  retire  from  both, 
complaining,  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report  7 
and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  V 
We  condemn  your  practice :  you  thank  us  for 
our  good  sermons,  and  proceed.  Your  appro- 
bation does  not  hinder  your  sinning,  nor  your 
sinning  your  approbation. — Where  are  the  evi- 
dences of  our  success  1  Are  they  to  be  heard 
in  the  inquiry,  "  Sirs,  what  must  I  do  to  be 
saved  1"  Are  they  to  be  seen  in  your  dead- 
ness  to  the  world,  in  your  self-denial,  in  your 
taking  up  the  cross,  in  your  heavenly-mind- 
edness,  in  serving  your  generation  according 
to  the  will  of  God,  in  being  examples  to 
others  7 — 

How  shall  I  impress  you  with  the  impor- 
tance of  this  7  or  by  what  motives  can  I  en- 
force upon  you  this  practical  attention  to  the 
Gospel  you  hear 7 

Shall  I  urge  the  danger  of  delusion,  and 
say,  with  the  apostle  James,  "  Be  ye  doers  of 
the  word,  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving 
your  ownselves7"  Shall  I  remind  you  of  "a 
foolish  builder,"  who  reared  "  his  house  upon 
the  sand :  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the 
floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat  up- 
on that  house  ;  and  it  fell ;  and  great  was  the 
fall  of  it  7"  Such,  according  to  our  Saviour, 
will  be  the  fatal  disappointment  of  all  those, 
who  entertain  a  hope  of  safety  separate  from 
holiness ;  who  have  been  lulled  to  sleep  by 
an  unsanctified  attendance  on  ordinances ; 
who  hear  "  these  sayings  of  his,  and  do  them 
not." 

Shall  I  remind  you  of  the  precarious  tenure 
of  your  privileges,  and  say,  with  our  Saviour, 
"  Yet  a  little  while  is  the  light  with  you ; 
walk  while  ye  have  the  light,  lest  darkness 
come  upon  you  ?"  There  are  no  calls  of  mer- 
cy beyond  the  grave — and  "  what  is  your  life  7 
it  is  even  a  vapour  that  appeareth  for  a  little 
time,  and  then  vanisheth  away." — The  Jews 
had  distinguished  privileges — but  "  the  king- 
dom of  God  was  taken  from  them,  and  given 
to  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  there- 
of." Where  now  are  the  churches  of  Asia  7 
— Your  candlestick  may  be  removed.  You 
may  be  rendered  incapable  of  hearing.  The 
efficacy  may  be  withholden  from  the  means. 
Surely  if  any  thing  can  provoke  the  Supreme 
Being  to  take  away  ordinances,  or  to  make 
them  useless,  it  must  be  your  awful  abuse  of 
them. 

Shall  I  mention  the  happiness  of  those  who 
receive  the  Gospel,  "  not  in  word  only  7" — 
"  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  spake  these  things, 
a  certain  woman  of  the  company  lifted  up  her 
voice,  and  said  unto  him,  Blessed  is  the  womb 
that  bare  thee,  and  the  paps  which  thou  hast 
.  sucked.    But  he  said,  Yea,  rather,  blessed 


52 


SERMON  IX. 


are  they  that  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  keep 
it."'  "  If  ye  know  these  things,  happy  are  ye 
if  ye  do  them."  "  Whoso  looketh  into  the 
perfect  law  of  liberty,  and  continueth  there- 
in, he  being  not  a  forgetful  hearer,  but  a  doer 
of  the  work,  this  man  shall  be  blessed  in 

his  DEED." 

Need  I  inform  you,  that  these  means,  when 
unimproved,  will  be  found  injurious — that  the 
word  of  God  is  one  of  those  things,  which,  if 
unprofitable,  becomes  pernicious — that  if  it 
does  not  nourish  as  food,  it  will  destroy  like 
poison — if  it  does  not  soften,  it  will  harden — 
if  it  does  not  justify,  it  will  condemn  1 

For,  remember  the  awful  account  which 
you  will  be  required  to  give  of  all  your  hear- 
ing, when  called  to  appear  before  the  bar  of 
God.  Then,  those  sermons  which  you  now 
so  easily  forget,  will  be  perfectly  revived  in 
your  recollection.  The  Bible  from  which  you 
have  been  so  often  addressed,  will  be  called 
forth,  and  you  will  be  judged  out  of  this  book. 
In  this  judgment  will  rise  up  against  you,  to 
condemn  you,  the  queen  of  the  south:  "for 
she  came  from  the  uttermost  parts  to  hear  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon ;  and,  behold,  a  greater 
than  Solomon  is  here!"  In  this  judgment  will 
rise  up  against  you,  to  condemn  you,  "  the 
men  of  Nineveh :  for  they  repented  at  the 
preaching  of  Jonah;  and,  behold,  a  greater 
than  Jonah  is  here  !"  In  this  judgment  will 
rise  up  against  you,  to  condemn  you,  all  your 
fellow-worshippers,  who,  having  the  same  na- 
ture and  passions  with  yourselves,  and  never 
having  heard  truths  more  powerful  than  those 
which  you  have  heard,  "  turned  at  His  reproof; 
sought  the  Lord  while  he  was  to  be  found, 
and  called  upon  him  while  he  was  near."  In 
this  judgment  will  rise  up  against  you,  to  con- 
demn you,  those  ministers  who  would  gladly 
have  saved  not  only  themselves,  but  you  who 
heard  them : — While  "  the  Saviour  shall  be 
revealed  from  heaven  with  his  mighty  angels 
in  flaming  fire,  taking  vengeance  on  them  that 
know  not  God,  and  that  obey  not  the  Gospel 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  can  you  say, 
his  language  will  be  unreasonable — "  Because 
I  have  called,  and  ye  refused  ;  I  have  stretch- 
ed out  my  hand,  and  no  man  regarded ;  but 
ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and 
would  none  of  my  reproof :  I  also  will  laugh 
at  your  calamity ;  I  will  mock  when  your  fear 
Cometh  ;  when  your  fear  cometh  as  desolation, 
and  your  destruction  cometh  as  a  whirlwind ; 
when  distress  and  anguish  cometh  upon  you  ?" 
If  you  have  never  heard  to  purpose  before,  be- 
gin to-day.  "To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  His 
voice,  harden  not  your  hearts."  If  you  are 
not  lost  to  all  sense  of  your  own  welfare ;  if 
you  are  not  resolved  to  sacrifice  eternal  life ; 
if  you  have  not  "made  a  covenant  with 
death,  and  with  hell  are  not  at  an  agreement ; 
see  that  ye  refuse  not  Him  that  speaketh." 
It  is  the  voice  of  friendship — it  is  the  voice  of 
conscience — it  is  the  voice  of  reason — it  is  the 


voice  of  Scripture — it  is  "  the  voice  of  the 
archangel  and  the  trump  of  God" — "  If  any 

MAN  HAVE  EARS  TO  HEAR,  LET  HIM  HEAR." 


SERMON  IX. 


ON  PROGRESS  IN  RELIGION. 

Tliere  remaineth  yet  very  much  land  to  be  pos- 
sessed.— Joshua  xiii.  1. 

Such  was  the  address  of  God  to  Joshua. 
Nor  was  it  in  vain.  It  stirred  "  up  his  pure 
mind  by  way  of  remembrance ;"  and  having 
"assembled  the  whole  congregation  of  the 
children  of  Israel  together  at  Shiloh,"  he  said 
unto  them,  "How  long  are  ye  slack  to  goto 
possess  the  land  which  the  Lord  God  of  your 
fathers  hath  given  you  V — They  should  nave 
marched  forward,  advancing  their  arms  to  the 
extremities  of  the  promised  possession.  It 
was  all  their  own,  by  Divine  grant ;  and  they 
had  only  to  seize  it.  When  they  entered, 
they  burned  with  zeal ;  every  day  was  dis- 
tinguished by  some  fresh  triumph  ;  they  went 
"  from  conquering  to  conquer."  But  their 
fervoursoon  cooled,  their  courage  soon  failed ; 
and,  satisfied  with  an  imperfect  acquisition, 
they  laid  down  their  arms,  and  resumed  them 
only  when  they  became  necessary  for  defence. 

And  this,  my  brethren,  reminds  us  of  a  two- 
fold reproach,  which  attaches  to  Christians. 
When  our  Saviour  had  received  "  all  power 
in  heaven  and  in  earth,"  for  the  purpose  of 
spiritual  empire,  he  said  to  his  disciples,  "  Go 
ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gospel 
to  every  creature."  "  Go  ye,  and  teach  all 
nations ;  baptizing  them  in  the  Name  of  the 
Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost;  and,  lo !  I  am  with  you  always,  even 
to  the  end  of  the  world."  Thus  clear,  and 
thus  extensive,  was  their  commission.  They 
were  to  subdue  a  rebellious  globe  "  to  the 
obedience  of  faith."  This  alone  was  to  cir- 
cumscribe and  to  terminate  their  exertions. 
They  began  well.  The  company  of  the  pub- 
lishers flew  like  angels,  having  the  everlast- 
ing Gospel  to  preach  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth.  From  Jerusalem  they  proceeded  in  ail 
directions,  like  the  lines  of  a  circle  from  the 
centre.  Commencing  in  Judea,  they  soon 
spread  over  all  Palestine,  entered  the  conti- 
guous countries  in  Asia,visited  the  Isles,  reach- 
ed Europe.  And  successively  the  banners  of 
the  Cross  were  displayed,  in  province  beyond 
province,  and  in  clime  beyond  clime.  But 
instead  of  continuing  their  glorious  career, 
after  a  while  they  looked  back,  and  were  sa- 
tisfied with  their  progress :  they  preferred 
ease  to  acquisition ;  they  began  to  divide  the 
spoil  they  had  gained  ;  they  often  turned  their 
arms  against  each  other — while  the  enemy, 
pressing  upon  them,  frequently  obliged  them 
to  contract  their  limits,  and  to  change  their 


SERMON  IX. 


63 


position.  From  that  time  their  cause  has  not 
prospered  ;  and  many  a  judgment  has  been  in- 
flicted, to  awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  their  sin, 
and  a  conviction  of  their  duty.  Many  a  voice 
has  been  heard  in  vain ;  calling  upon  them  to 
arise  and  go  forward ;  reminding  them  that 
it  was  all  purchased  and  promised  country  ; 
that  "the  heathen"  was  destined  to  be  "their 
inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth"  were  to  become  "  their  possession." 
May  we  hope  that  at  length  the  voice  of  God 
is  beginning  to  be  heard  3  and  that  his  messen- 
gers spreading  abroad  to  the  east  and  to  the 
west,  and  to  the  north  and  to  the  south,  his 
"glory  shall  be  revealed,  and  all  flesh  shall 
see  it  together  ?"  May  the  Lord  hasten  it 
in  his  timfe  ! 

To  draw  nearer  the  design  of  this  dis- 
course :  Christians,  God  has  assigned  you  a 
glorious  portion.  "  The  lines  are  fallen  to" 
you  "  in  pleasant  places ;  yea,"  you  "  have  a 
goodly  heritage."  Opening  before  you  the 
discoveries  of  revelation,  He  said,  Make  all 
this  your  own ;  advance  ;  leave  nothing  un- 
possessed— At  first  you  were  filled  with  spi- 
ritual ardour.  You  laid  "aside  every 
weight."  You  were  seen  on  the  full  stretch 
to  reach  "  the  end  of  your  faith,  even  the  sal- 
vation of  your  souls."  Had  you  then  heard  a 
prediction  of  what  has  since  taken  place  in 
your  dispositions  and  pursuits,  it  would  have 
appeared  like  "  an  idle  tale." — But,  alas ! 
you  have  become  these  incredible  characters. 
Your  love  has  waxen  cold.  You  have  sat 
down  long  before  you  have  obtained  a  com- 
plete victory ;  long  before  you  have  finished 
your  course ;  long  before  you  have  realized 
all  the  invaluable  blessings  of  your  inheri- 
tance: and  I  am  come  to  remind  you, — L 
That  there  remaineth  vet  very  much 
land  to  be  possessed.  ii.  to  call  upon  you 
to  arise,  and  make  fresh  and  continued 
progress.  iii.  to  give  you  some  advice 
with  regard  to  your.  future  exertions. 

Part  L  Yes,  Christians;  there  re- 
maineth YET  VERY  MUCH  LAND  TO  BE  POS- 
SESSED— Many  cities  and  strong-holds,  many 
fine  plains,  and  "  springs  of  water  ;"  many 
beautiful  valleys,  and  very  "fruitful  hills:" 
— or,  to  speak  less  in  figure,  much  of  your  re- 
ligion is  unattained,  unoccupied,  unenjoyed ; 
you  are  far  from  its  boundaries.  Very  little  of  it 
indeed  do  some  of  you  possess  ;  you  command 
only  a  small  inconsiderable  corner,  scarcely 
affording  you  a  subsistence.  But  I  use  no 
distinctions :  I  address  myself  even  to  those 
of  you  who  have  made  the  greatest  progress  in 
the  Divine  life.  And  surely  it  is  notdifficult  to 
make  you  sensible  of  your  remaining  defi- 
ciencies. Draw  near  those  illustrious  cha- 
racters, whose  history  is  recorded  in  the 
Scriptures  of  truth. — Compare  yourselves 
with  those  finished  likenesses  of  Christians, 
which  an  infallible  pencil  has  given  us  in  the 
Gospel.  Observe  well  the  sublime  intention 
5* 


of  the  gracious  dispensation  under  which  you 
live,  and  which  is  nothing  less  than  to  make 
you  "  partakers  of  the  Divine  nature;"  to 
enable  you  to  live  "  the  life  of  God  ;"  and  to 
render  you  "  perfect,  even  as  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect" 

Tajie  a  survey  of  your  religion — I  would 
examine  you  with  regard  to  three  articles, 
which  have  a  dependence  on  each  other,  and 
in  each  of  which  you  will  be  found  "  to  come" 
woefully  "  short." 

First,  Consider  your  knowledge.  While 
you  are  men  in  years,  are  you  not  "  children 
in  understanding-?"  You  have  been  liberal- 
ly favoured  with  the  means  of  information — 
Do  you  possess  all  you  should  have  known ; 
and  all  you  could  have  known  ?  After  so 
many  years  of  hearing,  what  additions  have 
you  made  to  your  stores'?  Are  you  filled 
with  holy  prudence  to  ponder  "  the  path  of 
your  feet,"  to  "  look  well  to  your  goings," 
and  to  discern  snares  where  there  is  no  ap- 
pearance of  danger?  Do  you  "  walk  circum- 
spectly; not  as  fools,  but  as  wise'?"  Have 
you  a  sufficiency  of  holy  wisdom  to  "  rule 
well  your  own  houses,"  and  to  "train  up 
your  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord  V  Are  you  able  to  "  give  to  eve- 
ry man  that  asketh  you  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  you  1"  Can  you  apply  general  prin- 
ciples to  particular  cases  1  Can  you  reconcile 
promises  and  providences  when  they  seem 
adverse  to  each  other  ?  Does  "  the  word  of 
Christ  dwell  in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom  1" 
Have  you  clear,  combining,  and  impressive 
views  of  any  truth  of  the  Scripture  ?  And 
are  there  not  many  subjects  of  revelation 
with  which  you  have  no  acquaintance? — 
Alas  !  with  many  professors  of  religion,  more 
than  half  the  Bible  is  entirely  useless.  They 
confine  their  attention  only  to  a  few  doc- 
trines ;  and  even  these  they  regard  not  as 
they  are  delivered  in  the  undefined  grandeur 
of  the  sacred  writers,  but  as  they  are  reduced 
and  modelled  to  stand  conveniently  in  a  hu- 
man creed,  or  a  human  system.  What  a  dif- 
ference is  there  between  the  ocean  of  revela- 
tion and  such  a  vessel-full  of  truth  as  any 
formulary  of  doctrine  contains !  But  the  lat- 
ter has  often  been  mistaken  for  the  former  ; 
and,  because  it  is  easy  to  penetrate  to  the 
bottom  of  the  one,  many  imagine  they  have 
fathomed  the  other.  David  gives  us  a  fine 
idea  of  revelation,  when  he  tells  us  "it  is  ex- 
ceeding broad."  Of  "all"  other  "perfection" 
he  could  see  "  an  end ;"  but  he  viewed  this  as 
incomprehensible  and  boundless.  Here  he 
saw  room  for  unceasing  progress :  here,  he 
knew,  fresh  beauties  and  glories  would  be 
perpetually  discovered,  to  reward  the  humble 
and  active  inquirer.  And  why  should  we 
stand  in  this  extensive  country,  and  suffer  a 
man,  fallible  like  ourselves,  and  with  no  bet- 
ter sources  of  information,  to  mark  us  off  a 
piece  only  of  the  sacred  soil;   to  draw 


51 


SERMON  IX. 


around  us  a  circle,  over  which  we  are  never 
to  step !  Hear,  O  son  of  Abraham,  the  voice 
of  thy  God:  "Go  through  the  land  in  the 
length  and  the  breadth  of  it ;  for  to  thee  have 
I  given  it"  Hear  the  language  of  one  of 
his  servants  :  "  O  ye  Hebrews,  ye  are  dull  of 
hearing :  for  when  for  the  time  ye  ought  to 
be  teachers,  ye  have  need  that  one  teach  you  < 
again  which  be  the  first  principles  of  the  ora- ! 
cles  of  God ;  and  are  become  such  as  have 
need  of  milk,  and  not  of  strong  drink.  Foreve- 
ry  one  that  useth  milk  is  unskilful  in  the 
word  of  righteousness :  for  he  is  a  babe.  But 
strong  meat  belongeth  to  them  that  are  of  full 
age ;  even  those  who,  by  reason  of  use,  have 
their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good 
and  evil.  Therefore,  leaving  the  principles  of 
the  doctrine  of  Christ,  let  us  go  on  unto  per- 
fection." He  means  perfection  in  knowledge. 
He  would  not  have  us  confine  our  attention 
perpetually  to  a  few  particular  parts ;  or,  to 
use  his  own  image,  would  not  have  us  to  be 
always  "laying  again  the  foundation,"  in- 
stead of  going  on  with  the  superstructure. 
But,  alas  !  when  will  the  understandings  of 
our  people  suffer  us  to  extend  our  views'? 
When  will  they  rouse  up  their  minds,  and 
exert  their  faculties  to  take  in  something  be- 
yond a  few  common-place  reflections  which 
they  have  heard  times  without  number? 
Why  will  they  always  constrain  us  to  abide 
near  "  the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of 
God  ?"  or,  if  we  advance,  why  will  they  re- 
fuse to  accompany  us  one  degree  beyond 
them  ? 

Secondly,  Observe  your  holiness.  For 
the  knowledge  of  persons  may  surpass  their 
experience  ;  and  a  growth  in  gifts  is  very  dis- 
tinguishable from  a  growth  in  grace.  Re- 
view, then,  your  sanctification ;  and  suffer  me 
to  ask,  Have  you  no  remaining  corruptions 
to  subdue  ?  Are  your  passions  entirely  under 
the  control  of  reason  1  Are  your  affections  all 
heavenly !  Are  you  "  crucified  to  the  world  ?" 
Have  you  no  undue  regard  for  it,  or  expecta- 
tion from  it  ?  Are  you  properly  affected  with 
the  evil  of  sin  ? — do  you  abhor  it,  mourn  over 
it,  watch  against  it  ?  Do  you  "  deny  your- 
selves, and  take  up  your  cross,  and  follow  Jesus 
without  the  camp,  gladly  bearing  his  re- 
proach?" Is  your  obedience  universal,  unvary- 
ing, cheerful?  Have  you  fully  imbibed  the 
tempers  of  your  religion  1  Are  there  no  de- 
ficiencies perceivable  in  every  grace,  in  eve- 
ry duty  ?  Are  you  "  strong  in  faith  ?"  Do  you 
"  abound  in  hope  1"  Do  you  love  God,  and  do 
you  love  him  supremely !  Do  you  love  your 
neighbour,  and  do  you  love  him  as  yourself  ! 
Can  you  "  love  your  enemies,  and  bless  them 
that  curse  you  ?"  Are  you  "  clothed  with  hu- 
mility V  Is  your  worship  always  spiritual  ? 
Do  you  never  "offer  the  sacrifice  of  fools?" 
Do  you  not  often  pray  with  formality,  and  hear 
in  vain  ? — I  need  not  press  these  inquiries. 
If  you  are  Christians  indeed,  you  are  ready  to 


answer  them  with  sighs  and  tears : — "  Enter 
not  into  judgment  with  thy  servant :  my  soul 
cleaveth  to  the  dust:  O  wretched  man  that  I 
am  :  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me ;  thy 
mercy,  O  Lord,  endureth  for  ever;  forsake 
not  the  work  of  thine  own  hands." 

Thirdly,  Think  of  your  privileges.  These 
are  innumerable  and  invaluable. — It  is  the 
privilege  of  Christians  to  have  "  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises."  It  is  the  pri- 
vilege of  Christians  to  be  "  careful  for  no- 
thing." It  is  the  privilege  of  Christians  "to 
enter  into  rest."  It  is  the  privilege  of  Chris- 
tians to  "  have  peace  with  God  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ."  It  is  the  privilege  of 
Christians  to  "  walk  all  day  in  the  light  of 
his  countenance ;  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord  al- 
ways ;  to  rejoice  in  him  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory."  It  is  the  privilege  of 
Christians  to  "  count  it  all  joy  when  they  fall 
into  divers  temptations ;  and  to  glory  in  tri- 
bulation also."  And  all  this  has  been  exem- 
plified. Men  have  "  received  the  Gospel  in 
much  affliction,  with  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost : 
they  have  taken  pleasure  in  infirmities,  in  re- 
proaches, in  necessities,  in  persecutions,  in 
distresses,  for  Christ's  sake:"  they  have 
"  taken  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods;" 
they  have  approached  the  flames  with  rapture ; 
they  have  loved  and  longed  for  "  his  appear- 
ing"— But  where  are  you  ?  Always  in  dark- 
ness and  alarms ;  always  among  thorns  and 
briers ;  always  murmuring  and  complaining ; 
having  religion  enough  to  make  you  misera- 
ble, but  not  enough  to  make  you  happy. 
Do  you  belong  to  the  same  community  ?  Have 
you  the  same  privileges  with  them  1  the  same 
heaven  with  them  ?  the  same  God  with  them 1 
the  same  Comforter  with  them  ?  What 
should  we  think  of  all  the  high  praises  of  reli- 
gion, if  it  had  no  more  consolation  and  pleasure 
to  afford  than  you  possess  ? — Thus,  whether 
we  examine  your  knowledge,  or  your  holiness, 
or  your  privileges,  it  will  appear  that  much 
lies  still  before  you ;  much  to  understand ; 
much  to  perform ;  much  to  enjoy — Week  after 
week,  year  after  year,  God  comes  to  observe 
your  progress,  and  finds  you,  if  not  drawn 
back,  fixed  in  the  place  you  occupied  before. 

Part  II.  And  whence  is  this?  Why  will 
you  suffer  all  this  remaining  region  to  be  un- 
possessed ?  How  shall  I  awaken  you  from 
your  negligence,  and  convince  you  of  the  pro- 
priety and  necessity  of  making  fresh  and 

CONTINUAL  ADVANCES  ? 

First,  I  would  place  before  you  the  com- 
mands of  God.  You  are  forbidden  to  draw 
back ;  you  are  forbidden  to  be  stationary. 
Something  more  is  necessary  than  languid, 
partial,  occasional,  temporary  progression, 
You  are  required  to  be  "  steadfast,  unmove- 
able,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord :"  to  " add  to  your  faith,  virtue;  and  to 
virtue,  knowledge ;  and  to  knowledge,  tem- 
perance ;  and  to  temperance,  patience ;  and 


SERMON  IX. 


55 


to  patience,  godliness;  and  to  godliness,  bro- 
therly kindness;  and  to  brotherly  kindness, 
charity  :  to  walk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all 
well-pleasing;  being  fruitful  in  every  good 
i  work  :"  to  "  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  know- 
ledge of  our  Lord  and  Saviour." — Such  is  the 
morality  of  the  Gospel :  and  these  are  the  com- 
mands of  God,  which  you  have  professed  to 
make  the  rule  of  your  actions. 

Secondly,  I  would  surround  you  with  all  the 
images  employed  by  the  sacred  writers,  when 
they  would  describe  the  nature  of  a  religious 
life.  For  which  of  them  does  not  imply  pro- 
gress, and  remind  us  of  the  importance  of  un- 
diminished ardour  and  unceasing  exertion?  Is 
it  "  the  shining  light !"  This  "  shines  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day."  Is  it  the 
growing  grain  ?  Behold,  "  first  the  blade  ; 
then  the  ear ;  after  that,  the  full  corn  in  the 
ear."  Is  it  the  mustard  seed  ?  What  though 
its  beginning  be  small,  "  when  it  is  grown, 
it  is  the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  becometh 
a  tree ;  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  come  and 
lodge  in  the  branches  thereof."  Is  it  leaven  1 
It  pervades  "  the  meal,  till  the  whole  be  lea- 
vened." Is  the  Christian  a  scholar ;  and  is 
he  only  to  retain  what  he  has  already  acquir- 
ed ?  Is  he  running  a  race  ;  and  in  the  middle 
of  his  course  does  he  set  down  to  rest,  or  step 
aside  to  gather  flowers  ?  Is  he  a  warrior ;  and 
does  he  sleep,  not  only  in  the  field,  but  even 
in  the  action"! 

Thirdly,  I  would  call  forth  examples  in 
your  presence :  they  teach  you  the  same 
truth.  Who  said,  "  I  beseech  thee,  shew  me 
thy  glory  ?  A  man  who  had  "  seen  God  face 
to  face."  Who  prayed,  "  Teach  me  thy  sta- 
tutes :  open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold 
wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law  V  A  man, 
who  had  "  more  understanding  than  all  his 
teachers :  a  man,  who  understood  more  than 
the  ancients" — It  is  needless  to  multiply  in- 
stances. Perhaps  no  man  ever  carried  reli- 
gion to  a  higher  degree — perhaps  no  individu- 
al had  ever  so  much  reason  to  be  satisfied 
with  his  proficiency  as  the  apostle  Paul.  But 
hear  his  language  to  the  Philippians :  "  Bre- 
thren, I  count  not  myself  to  have  apprehend- 
ed :  but  this  one  thing  I  do  ;  forgetting  those 
things  which  are  behind" — And  what  things 
had  he  to  forget?  The  churches  he  had  es- 
tablished ;  the  sermons  he  had  preached  ;  his 
prayers  and  epistles ;  journeys  and  perils  ;  un- 
exampled labours ;  the  abundance  of  his  re- 
velations ;  his  entering  the  third  heaven — all 
this,  says  he,  "  is  behind ;  all  this  I  deem  un- 
worthy of  recollection,  compared  with  the  fu- 
ture. I  am  reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
which  are  before ;  I  press  toward  the  mark, 
for  the  prize  of  my  high  calling  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus." — And  have  we  attained ;  are 
we  "already  perfect?"  And  shall  we  leave 
off  to  make  advances  ?  Shall  we  be  satisfied 
with  our  trifling  acquisitions  1 


Fourthly,  1  would  hold  up  to  view  the  ad- 
vantages of  progressive  religion. 

A  Christian  should  be  concerned  for  the 
honour  of  God.  He  is  under  infinite  obliga- 
tions to  "shew  forth  the  praises  of  Him,  who 
hath  called  us  out  of  darkness  into  his  marvel- 
lous light:"  but  "herein  is"  our  "Father 
glorified,  that  ye  bear  much  fruit." 

A  Christian  should  be  concerned  for  the 
welfare  of  his  fellow  creatures.  He  should  be 
a  blessing  to  his  family  ;  to  his  country.  He 
should  be  as  a  "  dew  from  the  Lord,"  fertiliz- 
ing the  place  in  which  he  lives.  He  should 
have  a  stock,  not  only  sufficient  to  sustain 
himself,  but  to  relieve  others.  He  should  be 
a  stream,  at  which  the  thirsty  may  drink  ;  a 
shadow,  under  which  the  weary  may  refresh 
themselves.  He  should  be  the  image  of  his 
Lord  and  Saviour,  going  about  doing  good, 
casting  out  unclean  spirits,  opening  the  eyes 
of  the  blind,  binding  up  the  broken-hearted. 
— But  the  more  grace  he  possesses,  the  more 
qualified  will  he  be  for  usefulness  ;  the  more 
will  he  be  disposed  and  enabled  to  do  good. 

A  Christian  should  be  concerned  for  his  own 
prosperity.  And  has  he  to  learn  wherein  it 
consists  ?  Need  he  be  told,  that  adding  grace 
to  grace,  is  adding  "strength  to  strength," 
dignity  to  dignity,  beauty  to  beauty,  joy  to 
joy  ?  It  is  with  the  Christian  as  it  is  with  the 
man  in  trade :  the  more  he  acquires,  the  more 
he  is  enabled  to  gain :  every  increase  is  not 
only  a  possession,  but  a  capacity.  "  To  him 
that  hath,  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have 
more  abundantly;  but  from  him  that  hath  not, 
shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  seem- 
eth  to  have."  The  more  sin  is  mortified  in 
us,  the  less  will  the  "  prince  of  this  world 
find"  to  encourage  his  approach  ;  the  less 
susceptible  shall  we  be  of  temptation  in  the 
scenes  of  danger  through  which  we  pass. — 
There  is  something  very  attractive  and  pleas- 
ing in  progress.  It  is  agreeable  to  observe  a 
stately  edifice  rising  up  from  the  deep  basis, 
and  becoming  a  beautiful  mansion.  It  is  en- 
tertaining to  see  the  rough  outline  of  a  picture 
filled  and  finished.  It  is  striking,  in  the  gar- 
den, to  behold  the  tree  renewing  signs  of  life  , 
to  mark  the  expanding  foliage,  the  opening 
bud,  the  lovely  blossom,  the  swelling,  colour- 
ing, ripening  fruit.  And  where  is  the  father, 
where  is  the  mother,  who  has  not  sparkled 
with  delight,  while  contemplating  the  child 
growing  in  stature ;  acquiring  by  degrees  the 
use  of  its  tender  limbs ;  beginning  to  totter, 
and  then  to  walk  more  firmly ;  the  pointing 
finger  succeeded  by  the  prattling  tongue ;  cu- 
riosity awakened ;  reason  dawning ;  new 
powers  opening;  the  character  forming? — 
But  nothing  is  to  be  compared  with  the  pro- 
gressof  "this building ofGod ;"  these  "trees 
of  righteousness;"  this  "changing  into  His 
image  from  glory  to  glory  ;"  this  process  of 
"  the  new  creature,"  from  the  hour  of  rege- 


56 


SERMON  IX. 


neration  "  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  mea- 
sure of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ." 
And,  oh  !  what  is  it  when  we  are  the  subjects 
too! 

The  nearer  we  live  to  heaven,  the  more  of 
its  pure  and  peaceful  influence  we  shall  enjoy. 
The  way  of  life,  narrow  at  the  entrance, 
widens  as  we  proceed.  It  is  the  nature  of 
habits  to  render  their  acts  easy  and  delightful. 
There  is  little  pleasure  in  religion  if  there  be 
no  fervency :  if  there  be  no  vigour  in  faith, 
no  zeal  in  devotion,  no  life  in  duty,  religion 
is  without  a  soul ;  it  is  the  mere  carcass  of 
inanimate  virtue.  What  sensations  of  ecstasy, 
what  prospects  of  assurance,  can  such  Chris- 
tians expect  ?  In  conversion,  as  in  the  altera- 
tion of  an  old  edifice,  we  first  demolish:  and 
this  only  furnishes  us  with  rubbish  and  ruins: 
but  afterwards  we  raise  up  an  orderly  beauti- 
ful building,  in  which  we  are  refreshed  and 
charmed.  What  happiness  arises  from  diffi- 
culties overcome,  and  from  labour  crowned 
with  success!  What  emotions  can  equal  the 
joy  of  one,  who  after  the  painful  battle  "di- 
vides the  spoil  J"  But  what  can  resemble  the 
satisfaction  of  the  Christian,  who,  on  each 
successful  exertion,  gathers  fresh  "  glory, 
honour,  and  immortality  !" — The  life  of  the 
active  Christian  is  the  labour  of  the  bee  ;  who 
all  day  long  is  flying  from  the  hive  to  the 
flower,  or  from  the  flower  to  the  hive — but 
all  his  business  is  confined  to  fragrancy,  and 
productive  of  sweets. 

There  are  many  promises  made  to  perse- 
verance in  the  divine  life ;  and  this  is  one : 
"  Then  shall  we  know  if  we  follow  on  to  know 
the  Lord :  his  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the 
morning;  and  he  shall  come  unto  us  as  the 
rain,  as  the  latter  and  the  former  rain  unto 
the  earth."  This  is  the  way  to  obtain  Divine 
refreshments  and  manifestations :  and  the  Sa- 
viour we  pursue,  upon  every  pleasing  surprise 
we  express,  will  say,  "  Thou  shalt  see  greater 
things  than  these."  Some  of  you  are  much 
perplexed  as  to  your  spiritual  condition :  the 
reason  is  obvious ;  little  things  are  scarcely 
perceptible — let  your  religion  be  enlarged, 
and  it  will  become  more  conspicuous.  And, 
to  close  this  part  of  our  discourse,  remember, 
that  it  is  an  awful  proof  that  you  have  no  real 
religion  if  your  are  satisfied  with  what  you 
have.  A  degree  of  experience,  however 
small,  would  stimulate  ;  the  relish  would  pro- 
voke the  appetite ;  and  having  "  tasted  that 
the  Lord  is  gracious,"  your  language  would 
be,  "  evermore  give  us  this  bread."  The 
nearer  a  person  in  any  profession  or  science 
approaches  to  perfection,  the  more  clearly 
will  he  perceive,  and  the  more  painfully  will 
he  feel  his  remaining  imperfections.  In  no- 
thing is  this  more  undeniable,  than  in  religious 
proficiency.  This  being  the  case,  I  am  pre- 
suaded,  Christians,  you  are  prepared, 

Part  III.  To  receive  some  admonitions 


WITH  REGARD  TO  YOUR  FUTURE  EFFORTS.  If 

you  would  advance, 

First,  Shake  off  indolence.  Nothing  is 
more  injurious  to  our  progress;  and,  alas !  no- 
thing is  more  common.  It  has  indeed  been 
said,  that  sloth  is  a  vice  the  most  universally 
natural  to  all  mankind.  They  discover  it  as  to 
bodily  exercise;  still  more  with  regard  to 
mental  application  ;  but  it  appears  most  of  all 
in  religious  pursuits.  Upon  this  principle, 
many  are  influenced  in  their  choice  of  preach- 
ers, and  in  their  adoption  of  sentiments.  This 
makes  them  fonder  of  speculations,  which  bear 
very  softly  upon  the  heart  and  life,  than  of 
those  truths  which  inculcate  a  holy  practice. 
They  find  it  is  easier  to  hear  weekly  a  num- 
ber of  sermons,  than  to  teach  their  children 
the  duties  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  maintain  se- 
rious devotion  in  their  families,  and  in  their 
closets.  Man  loves  indulgence  :  he  needs  a 
stimulus,  to  make  him  arise  from  the  bed  of 
sloth,  to  exert  his  faculties,  and  to  employ  the 
means  of  which  he  is  possessed.  And  one 
would  naturally  conclude  that  in  religion  he 
would  find  it — As  he  sits  at  ease,  revelation 
draws  back  the  veil,  and  shews  him  the  most 
astonishing  realities — an  eternal  world ;  what- 
ever can  sting  with  motive;  whatever  can 
alarm  with  fear;  whatever  can  animate  with 
hope.  What  a  Being  to  please,  on  whom  it 
depends  to  save  or  to  destroy !  What  a  state 
of  misery  is  there  to  escape !  What  an  infinite 
happiness  to  secure ! — Survey  the  prize.  In 
seeking  honour,  men  sacrifice  their  peace,  sub- 
mit to  mortifications,  climb  ascents  the  most 
slippery  and  hazardous.  To  gain  wealth,  they 
rise  up  early,  sit  up  late,  eat  the  bread  of  care- 
fulness. And  what  beggarly,  unsatisfying  ad- 
vantages are  all  earthly  tilings !  The  rich  man, 
"  in  the  midst  of  his  sufficiency,  may  be  in 
straits."  The  conqueror  may  be  wrung  with 
sorrow  even  on  the  day  of  his  triumph.  Now 
"  they  run  for  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we  for 
an  incorruptible."  Shall  they  be  zealous  in 
trifles,  and  we  remain  cold  and  motionless  in 
matters  of  endless  importance  1  Or  do  you  im- 
agine diligence  is  unnecessary?  But  does  n6t 
every  thing  valuable  require  labour  1  Do  we 
ever  highly  esteem  that  which  costs  us  no- 
thing ?  Indolence  never  ploughs  or  sows,  and 
therefore  never  reaps.  It  never  plants  or 
prunes,  and  therefore  never  gathers  the  clus- 
ters of  the  grapes :  nothing  great  was  ever 
performed  by  it ;  nothing  great  was  ever  pos- 
sessed by  it.  "The  soul  of  the  diligent"  on- 
ly "  shall  be  made  fat."  "  Win  and  wear  it," 
says  Bishop  Latimer,  "is  inscribed  on  the 
crown  of  glory  which  fadeth  not  away."  Be 
assured,  "your  strength  is  not  to  sit  still. 
Be  not  slothful,  but  followers  of  them  who 
through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the  pro- 
mises." 

Secondly,  Beware  of  diversion. — Dis- 
charge yourself  as  much  as  possible  from  su- 


SERMON  IX. 


57 


perfluoua  cares.    Distinguish  between  dili- 
gence in  lawful  business,  and  "entangling 
yourselves  in  the  affairs  of  this  life."  This 
sometimes  arises  from  a  multiplicity  of  con- 
cerns, and  more  frequently  from  the  want  of 
order  and  skill  in  the  management  of  them. 
Thus  you  are  robbed  of  the  temper,  and  the 
attention,  and  the  opportunities,  which  devo- 
tion requires.    The  good  old  men  who  have 
gone  before  us,  lived  as  long  again  as  you  do 
in  the  same  number  of  years.    They  redeem- 
ed their  time ;  they  rose  early ;  they  moved 
by  rule;  they  planned  every  thing;  they 
would  have  leisure  for  religion  ;  and  if  time 
fell  short,  the  body  and  the  world  suffered  the 
loss ;  they  never  robbed  the  soul,  and  trifled 
with  eternity.    To  avoid  diversion,you  would 
do  well  to  remember  that  religion  is  the  grand 
business  of  life ;  that  to  this  you  must  render 
ever  thing  else  subordinate  and  subservi- 
ent ;  that  you  are  not  to  confine  your  pious 
regards  and  attentions  to  the  sabbath,  or  the 
temple.    You  are  to  "  walk  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  all  the  day  long ;  and  whether  ye  eat  or 
drink,  or  whatever  ye  do,  you  are  to  do  all  to 
the  glory  of  God."    In  his  journey  the  travel- 
ler may  pause  for  a  moment  to  behold  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery  around  him ;  or,  in  the 
evening,  he  may  "  turn  aside  to  tarry  for  a 
night;"  but  in  the  morning  he  goes  on  his 
way  :  nothing  diverts  him ;  he  thinks  only  of 
the  object  for  which  he  set  out.    If,  however, 
a  man  goes  forth  without  an  end  in  view,  or 
does  not  feel  the  necessity  of  pursuing  it;  if 
he  travels  extempore,  and  leaves  the  determi- 
nation of  his  course  to  accident ;  he  is  liable 
to  be  caught  with  any  pleasing  prospect ;  he 
will  be  ready  to  comply  with  any  flattering  in- 
vitation ;  he  will  be  driven  back,  or  turned 
aside,  by  every  appearance  of  difficulty. — 
Fix  your  aim,  my  brethren,  and  establish  in 
your  minds  a  conviction  of  the  importance  of 
it.    Then  you  will  no  longer  live  at  random  ; 
then  you  will  have  a  principle  which  will  sim- 
plify all  your  concerns,  by  giving  them  one 
common  tendency ;  then  you  will  have  a  di- 
rector to  guide  you  in  every  perplexing  un- 
certainty ;  then  you  will  have  a  standard,  by 
which  to  decide  what  you  are  to  shun,  and 
what  you  are  to  pursue:  it  will  induce  you  to  i 
examine  all  with  a  reference  to  this,  and  to  1 
make  all  contribute  to  this.  Every  occurrence 
will  furnish  lessons  and  helps.    In  relation  to  i 
this  we  shall  judge  of  what  is  good  or  evil :  1 
this  will  keep  us  from  murmuring  when  we  ] 
feel  things  which,  though  painful,  urge  us  for- 
ward; and  from  sighing  for  things  which,  < 
though  pleasing,  will  prove  an  incumbrance,  i 
I  would  remark,  further,  that  there  are  not  < 
only  diversions  from  religion,  but  diversions  t 
in  it ;  and  of  these  also  you  are  to  beware.  I 
Here,  finding  you  are  unsuspicious  of  danger,  1 
the  enemy  often  succeeds :  for  his  end  is  fre-  £ 
quently  answered  by  things  good  in  themselves.  ' 
He  is  satisfied  if  he  can  draw  off  your  atten-  1 


-  tion  from  great  things,  and  engross  it  with 
r  little  ones;  if  he  can  make  you  prefer  opi- 
s  nions  to  practice,  and  controversy  to  devotion ; 

-  if,  by  consuming  your  zeal  on  the  circumstan- 
f  tials  of  religion,  he  can  render  your  minds 
.  cold  to  the  essence ;  if  he  can  bring  you  to  lay 
;  more  stress  upon  those  peculiarities  in  which 

-  you  differ,  than  upon  those  all-important  points 

>  in  which  you  agree. 

>  Thirdly,  Guard  against  despondency. 
.  There  are  indeed  many  things  which  when 
I  viewed  alone,  have  a  tendency  to  discourage 

>  the  mind.  We  know  your  weakness,  and  we 
!  know  the  difficulties  and  dangers  to  which 
!  you  are  exposed.  Your  progress  will  prove 
I  warlike ;  your  possession,  like  the  inheritance 
[  of  the  Jews,  is  to  be  conquered :  but  "  be  cou- 
[  rageous ;"  nothing  will  so  much  animate  you 

•  as  holy  confidence. .  To  strengthen  this  prin- 
.  ciple,  you  have  the  promise  of  a  faithful  God. 
;  It  encourages  you  with  an  assurance  of  event- 
i  ual  success,  and  of  immediate  assistance, 
i  The  advantages  are  certain  as  they  are  great. 

•  The  labour  and  the  hope  of  the  husbandman 
i  may  be  destroyed :  but  here  are  no  casualties 
,  — "  He  that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing 

precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  with 
rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 
,  The  soldier  fights  uncertainly  :  but  there  is 
no  peradventure  in  this  warfare — "  Yea,  in 
'  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors, 
through  Him  that  loved  us."  How  enliven- 
ing is  the  persuasion  that  we  cannot  be  defeat- 
'  ed  in  our  enterprise,  or  disappointed  in  our 
hope !  But  you  want  immediate  help.  And 
God  has  engaged  that  you  shall  not  advance 
alone :  his  presence  shall  be  with  you,  and  hia 
grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  you.  "So  that  you 
may  boldly  say,  the  Lord  is  my  helper.  I  will 
not  fear.  I  will  go  forth  in  the  strength  of  the 
Lord." — See,  however,  that  your  confidence 
be  scriptural,  and  your  reliance  properly  plac- 
ed :  And, 

Fourthly,  Beafraid  of  presumption.  "Even 
the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and  the 
young  men  shall  utterly  fall ;  but  they  that 
wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength : 
they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles, 
they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,  and  they 
shall  walk  and  not  faint."  Our  dependence 
upon  God  is  absolute  and  universal.  "  In  him 
we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being."  Hia 
agency  is  more  indispensable  in  spiritual 
things  than  in  natural :  sin  has  rendered  us 
peculiarly  weak,  helpless,  and  disaffected. 
Without  him  we  can  do  nothing.  Our  pro- 
gress in  religion  will  be  in  proportion  to  hia 
influences.  We  are  "led  by  the  Spirit  of 
God ;"  "  we  live  in  the  Spirit ;  we  walk  in 
the  Spirit."  Be  sensible  of  this,  and,  as  a 
proof  of  it,  be  much  in  prayer.  Prayer  is  the 
language  of  dependence :  by  this  we  call  for 
succour,  and  by  this  we  obtain  it.  Thus, 
"  when  we  are  weak,  then  are  we  strong," 
because  this  sense  of  our  insufficiency  lead3 


58 


SERMON  X. 


us  to  implore  the  power  of  God ;  and  "  if  we 
seek,  we  shall  find."  Hence  it  follows,  that 
if  we  have  not  more  grace,  it  is  because  we 
pray  so  little.  Prayer  increases  religion  by 
its  very  exercise.  It  naturally  promotes  re- 
signation, cherishes  hope,  and  strengthens 
faith.  Our  intercourse  with  God  will  natural- 
ly diminish  worldly  impressions  on  the  mind, 
and  refine  and  elevate  our  powers:  it  will  in- 
crease our  resemblance  of  God ;  and  we  shall 
come  forth  from  his  presence  like  Moses,  shin- 
ing in  his  rays.  Prayer  also  is  rich  in  promise : 
"  I  never  said  to  the  seed  of  Jacob,  seek  ye 
me,  in  vain." — "  The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  all 
them  that  call  upon  him,  to  all  them  that  call 
upon  him  in  truth ;  he  will  fulfil  the  desire  of 
them  that  fear  him ;  he  will  also  hear  their 
cry,  and  will  save  them."  On  these  two  prin- 
ciples, prayer  ranks  highest  among  those  in- 
stitutions which  we  call  means  of  grace; 
and  will  be  incessantly  regarded  by  all  those 
who  are  concerned  to  enjoy  soul-prosperity. 

Fifthly,  It  would  be  profitable  for  you  to 
"  call  to  remembrance  the  former  days,"  and 
especially  to  review  the  beginning  of  your 
religious  course.    It  is  said  of  Jehoshaphat, 
that  "  he  walked  in  the  first  ways  of  his  fa- 
ther David  :"  it  is  an  intimation  that  he  was 
not  so  zealous,  and  so  accurate  in  his  conver- 
sation, afterwards.    Our  Saviour  tells  the 
church  of  Ephesus,  "  I  have  somewhat  against 
thee,  because  thou  hast  left  thy  first  love :  re- 
member from  whence  thou  art  fallen,  and  re- 
pent, and  do  thy  first  works."    Ah !  Chris- 
tians, do  not  your  minds  appropriate  this  re- 
proach 1 — O  how  you  abounded  in  the  duties 
of  obedience  then !  O  how  you  prized  ordi- 
nances !  O  how  you  longed  for  the  sabbath ; 
and  how  glad  were  you  "  when  they  said,  let 
us  go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  !"  How 
much  of  your  time  was  employed  in  medita- 
tion, and  prayer,  and  praise !  And  all  was 
deemed  a  privilege  !  There  was  nothing  like 
burden  or  bondage.    How  did  the  bitterness 
of  repentance  make  you  loathe  sin;  and  at 
what  an  awful  distance  did  you  keep  your- 
selves from  its  approach  !  How  glorious  did 
the   Saviour  appear  in  your  deliverance; 
and  with  what  vigour  did  you  say,  "  Lord, 
I  will  follow  thee  whithersoever  thou  go- 
est !" — Must  I  "  cry  in  the  ears  of  Jerusa- 
lem, saying,  thus  saith  the  Lord,  I  remember 
thee  the  kindness  of  thy  youth,  and  the 
love  of  thine  espousals,  when  thou  wentest 
after  me  in  the  wilderness,  in  a  land  that 
was  not  sown  !"  Alas !  is  it  necessary  to  lead 
you  back  in  the  history  of  your  religion,  and 
to  derive  from  yourselves  in  former  years  ex- 
amples to  excite  you  now]   To  make  you 
blush  at  a  change  not  for  the  better,  but  the 
worse ;  to  cover  you  with  confusion,  by  com- 
paring the  slackness  of  your  progress  with 
the  ardours  of  your  commencement] 

Finally,  It  will  not  be  less  profitable  for  you 

to  LOOK  FORWARD,  AND  SURVEY  THE  CLOSE  OF 


all.  Christians  !  "  it  is  high  time  to  awake 
out  of  sleep ;  for  now  is  your  salvation  nearer 
than  when  ye  believed:  the  night  is  far 
spent,  the  day  is  at  hand."  Would  you  slum- 
ber on  the  verge  of  heaven  ]  The  stream  in- 
creases as  it  approximates  the  sea ;  motion 
accelerates  as  it  approaches  the  centre. — You 
have  beheld  dying  saints,  and  have  oflen  heard 
them  mourn  that  they  had  been  so  negligent, 
and  that  they  had  done  so  little  for  God  in 
their  day  and  generation ;  and  are  you  re- 
solved to  fill  a  dying  hour  with  similar  re- 
grets ]  Did  you  know  that  "  the  time  of" 
your  "  departure  was  at  hand,"  you  instantly 
would  arise,  and  have  "your  loins  girded, 
and  your  lamps  burning."  But  the  season  will 
come  soon,  and  may  come  immediately. 
Therefore  "  whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to 
do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for  there  is  no 
work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wis- 
dom, in  the  grave,  whither  thou  goest." 

— Yes;  this  is  the  only  opportunity  you 
will  have  to  do  good  toothers  and  to  get  good 
for  yourselves.  Joshua  had  the  clay  protract- 
ed, to  enable  him  to  complete  his  victory ; — 
but  no  addition  will  be  made  to  yours:  no 
sun  will  stand  still  while  you  finish  your 
course.  See !  the  shadows  of  the  evening 
are  closing  in ;  and  "  the  night  cometh, 
wherein  no  man  can  work,"  Will  you  always 
be  in  a  condition  which  will  render  reprieve 
anxiously  desirable  1  Will  you  be  always 
praying,  when  you  apprehend  the  summons, 
"  O  spare  me,  that  I  may  recover  strength, 
before  I  go  hence  and  be  no  more  !"  Does  it  re- 
quire no  more  mortification  than  you  now 
possess,  submissively  and  cheerfully  to  bid 
farewell  to  the  world]  Does  it  require  no 
more  assurance  of  hope  than  you  now  feel,  to 
pass  fearlessly  the  dark  "  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  1" — And  what  a  trial  awaits  you  be- 
yond the  grave  !  For  there  is  a  tribunal  be- 
fore which,  superficial  tears  will  not  be  con- 
sidered as  repentance ;  a  happy  temper  will 
not  pass  for  conversion ;  a  few  sluggish  en- 
deavours will  not  be  accepted  in  the  room 
of  vital  godliness — nothing  will  be  crowned 
but  a  faith  that  "overcomes  the  world;"  a 
"  hope  that  purifies  even  as  He  is  pure  ;"  a 
love  that  "  constrains  us  to  live  not  to  our- 
selves, but  to  Him  that  died  for  us,  and  rose 
again ;"  a  patience  "  that  endureth  to  the 
end :"  a  perseverance  that  keeps  us  from 
"being  weary  in  well-doing" — "The  Lord 
grant  that  we  may  find  mercy  of  the  Lord  in 
that  day." — Amen,  and  Amen. 

SERMON  X. 

THE  SECURE  ALARMED 

Woe  to  them  that  are  at  ease  in  Zion .' 

Amos  vi.  1. 

There  is  something  very  agreeable  and  de- 
sirable in  ease.    Even  external  ease  is  valua- 


SERMON  X. 


50 


ble ;  and  we  are  ready  to  pronounce  the  man 
happy,  whose  connexions  and  affairs  are  all 
prosperous  and  peaceful.  But  what  is  exter- 
nal ease — without  bodily  ?  Pain  will  produce 
anguish,  which  neither  riches  nor  palaces  can 
relieve.  An  aching  head,  a  jarring  tooth,  will 
destroy  all  the  sensations  of  pleasure  arising 
from  worldly  things.  Enter  the  house  of  af- 
fliction ;  observe  thy  neighbour ;  "  he  is  chas- 
tened with  pain  also  upon  his  bed,  and  the 
multitude  of  his  bones  with  strong  pain  ;  so 
that  his  life  abhorreth  bread,  and  his  soul  dain- 
ty meat :  his  flesh  is  consumed  away,  that  it 
cannot  be  seen;  and  his  bones,  that  were  not 
seen,  stick  out :  yea,  his  soul  draweth  near 
unto  the  grave,  and  his  life  to  the  destroyers." 
Perhaps  some  of  you  have  been  in  a  similar 
condition;  your  "  soul  hath  it  still  in  remem- 
brance ;"  you  said,  "  I  am  made  to  possess 
months  of  vanity,  and  wearisome  nights  are 
appointed  to  me :  when  I  lie  down,  I  say,  when 
shall  I  arise,  and  the  night  begone  ?  I  am  full 
of  tossings  to  and  fro  unto  the  dawning  of  the 
day :  my  bed  does  not  comfort  me,  nor  my 
couch  ease  my  complaint."  O  how  delicious 
is  health  after  sickness,  and  ease  after  pain ! 
But  what  is  bodily  ease  without  mental  ?  "  The 
spirit  of  a  man  may  sustain  his  infirmity ;  but 
a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear'!"  Can  a  man 
be  happy  while  corroded  with  care,  fretted 
with  envy,  burning  with  malice,  perplexed 
with  doubts,  tormented  with  fears  ?  Think  of 
a  man  who  carries,  lodged  within  him,  a  trou- 
bled conscience — "  He  eats  ashes  like  bread, 
and  mingles  his  drink  with  weeping  ;"  "His 
life  hangs  in  suspense  before  him,  and  he  has 
none  assurance  of  his  life ;"  He  trembles  at 
the  shaking  of  a  leaf ;  "  Terrors  take  hold  on 
him,  as  waters :  a  tempest  stealeth  him  away 
in  the  night ;"  "He  is  scared  with  dreams,  and 
terrified  with  visions."  O  what  can  be  so  pre- 
cious as  peace  of  mind — a  calm  within  ! 

— And  yet,  strange  as  the  declaration  may 
appear,  this  tranquillity  is  too  common;  and 
to  disturb  it,  is  the  design  of  this  discourse : 
a  design,  not  only  justified  by  inspired  exam- 
ple, and  demanded  by  ministerial  fidelity,  but 
required  even  by  love  to  your  souls.  For 
though  it  may  wear  the  appearance  of  harsh- 
ness, it  is  in  reality  the  kindest  expression  of 
friendship :  it  is  the  severity  of  one  who  rushes 
forth,  and  breaks  in  upon  your  pleasing  reve- 
rie, when  you  approach  the  brink  of  a  dread- 
ful precipice ;  it  is  the  severity  of  one,  who 
should  knock  loudly,  and  interrupt  your  re- 
pose, when  he  perceived  your  house  becoming 
the  prey  of  devouring  flames,  and  saw  you  had 
scarcely  time  to  escape :  for  your  peace  is 
a  false  peace.  It  is  the  friendship  of  Joab  con- 
cealing his  murderous  dagger.  It  is  the  slum- 
ber of  Samson  in  the  lap  of  Delilah,  softly  de- 
priving him  of  his  locks.  It  is  a  sleep  obtain- 
ed by  opium.  It  is  the  loss  of  feeling,  the  pre- 
sage of  death.  It  is  the  calm  of  the  dead  sea, 
the  consequence  and  the  evidence  of  a  curse. 


Thus  we  have  observed,  that  before  a  fall  of 
exceedingly  heavy  rain,  the  wind  has  been 
unusually  still.  Thus  travellers  inform  us, 
that  before  an  earthquake  the  air  is  uncom- 
monly serene.  Whether  therefore  you  will 
hear,  or  whether  you  will  forbear,  I  sound  the 

alarm,  and  give  you  warning  from  God  

"  Woe  to  them  that  are  at  ease  in  Zion  !" 

But  it  will  be  proper  to  ascertain  precisely 
the  characters  whose  delusion  we  wish  to  de- 
stroy. Who  deserves  this  charge  1  Who  is 
obnoxious  to  this  curse  ?  Some  are  "  at  ease 
in  Zion,"  from  selfish  insensibility — some, 
from  infidel  presumption — some,  from  vain 

CONFIDENCE  SOlTie,  from  PRACTICAL  INDIFFER- 
ENCE. 

I.  Some  "are  at  ease  in  Zion,"  from  selfish 
insensibility.  Such  there  were  in  the  days 
of  Amos.  "  They  lie,"  says  the  prophet, 
"  on  beds  of  ivory,  and  stretch  themselves  up- 
on their  couches,  and  eat  the  lambs  out  of  the 
flock,  and  the  calves  out  of  the  midst  of  the 
stall :  they  chaunt  to  the  sound  of  the  viol, 
and  invent  to  themselves  instruments  of  mu- 
sic, like  David :  they  drink  wine  in  bowls,  and 
anoint  themselves  with  the  chief  ointment ; 

BUT  ARE  NOT  GRIEVED  FOR  THE  AFFLICTION  OF 

Joseph."  In  similar  language,  Isaiah  up- 
braids the  Jews :  "  In  that  day  did  the  Lord 
God  of  Hosts  call  to  weeping,  and  to  mourn- 
ing, and  to  baldness,  and  to  girding  with  sack- 
cloth :  and,  behold,  joy  and  gladness,  slaying 
oxen,  and  killing  sheep,  eating  flesh,  and 
drinking  wine;  let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
morrow we  shall  die."  How  criminal  this  ap- 
peared in  the  eyes  of  Jehovah,  may  be  infer- 
red from  the  threatening :  "  And  it  was  re- 
vealed in  mine  ears  by  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
surely,  this  iniquity  shall  not  be  purged  from 
you  till  ye  die,  saith  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts." 

In  this  representation  we  discover  some- 
thing peculiarly  applicable  to  many  in  our 
day.  The  judgments  of  God  have  been  abroad 
in  the  earth,  nor  has  our  own  nation  escaped 
their  influence.  We  have  passed  through  a 
period  singularly  awful  and  trying.  In  no 
common  degree  have  we  been  called  upon  to 
become  serious,  humble,  and  susceptible  of 
instruction  and  impression.  What  instruc- 
tion have  we  received?  What  impression  has 
been  made  upon  our  minds  ?  What  amuse- 
ments have  we  relinquished?  What  correspond- 
ence of  feeling  with  the  dealings  of  God  have 
we  discovered  ?  What  sympathy  in  the  neces- 
sities and  woes  of  half-fed  perishing  multitudes 
have  we  expressed  ?  What  tears  have  we  shed 
overthe  funeral  ofthree  millions  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  six  hundred  thousand  of  our 
fellow-countrymen,  all  torn  from  their  beloved 
connexions,  all  hurried  into  an  eternal  state ! 
Whatever  occurs,  these  human  brutes  graze 
on.  "  They  regard  not  the  work  of  the  Lord, 
neither  consider  the  operation  of  his  hands." 
The  cares  of  the  world  engross  them :  the 
pleasures  of  the  world  amuse  them.  The 


60 


SERMON  X. 


miseries  of  mankind  are  nothing  to  them. 
Like  members  severed  from  the  body  of  huma- 
nity, they  are  dead,  and  devoid  of  feeling. 
"  A  thousand  may  fall  at  their  side,  and  ten 
thousand  at  their  right  hand ;"  they  are  satis- 
fied if  it  does  "  not  come  nigh  them."  An 
attention  to  their  own  indulgence  regulates 
all  their  actions.  They  pass  by  on  the  other 
side  the  poor  traveller  wounded,  bleeding, 
half-dead,  lest  their  feelings  should  be  shock- 
ed at  the  spectacle..  If  they  ever  give  of  their 
abundance,  or  distribute  any  thing  that  re- 
mains after  every  passion  and  appetite  is  gra- 
tified to  excess,  they  avoid  every  sacrifice  of 
charity, — all  expense  of  trouble  and  of  feel- 
ing ;  they  do  not  "  visit  the  fatherless  and  the 
widows  in  their  affliction."  The  eye  would 
affect  the  heart ;  and  the  heart  must  not  be  af- 
fected— it  is  their  plan  to  live  "  at  ease."  And 
sorry  am  I  to  be  compelled  to  say,  that  there 
are  not  a  few  florid  professors  of  the  Gospel 
who  expose  themselves  to  this  censure — per- 
sons who  are  zealous  for  orthodox  sentiments, 
but  cold  in  generous  affections :  "  having  a 
name  to  live,"  while  they  "are  dead"  to  all 
those  fine  and  tender  feelings,  which  render 
us  social  and  useful ;  which  constitute  the 
glory  of  the  man,  and  of  the  Christian — "  This 
man's  religion  is  vain." 

Your  dispositions,  my  brethren,  are  always 
to  correspond  with  the  providence  of  God,  and 
the  purposes  for  which  he  placed  you  in  the 
world.  He  continues  the  poor  always  with 
you,  and  encompasses  you  with  diversified 
scenes  of  distress,  to  awaken  your  attention ; 
to  increase  your  benevolence ;  to  discover 
your  excellencies :  and  to  form  you  into  a  re- 
semblanceof  Himself ;  that  "you  may  be  mer- 
ciful, even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
is  merciful."  The  Stoics  indeed  placed  all 
mercy  in  beneficence,  as  distinguished  from 
sympathy  and  commiseration.  Weeping  with 
another,  was  a  littleness  of  soul  unbecoming 
a  wise  man.  Their  doctrine  required  this; 
for  if  they  were  to  be  insensible  to  their  own 
afflictions,  they  were  surely  forbidden  to  feel 
the  calamities  of  others.  But  it  is  obviously 
the  design  of  God,  that  we  should  lay  the  mi- 
series of  others  to  heart,  and  that  the  kindness 
we  shew  them  should  flow  from  compassion. 
And  so  necessary  is  the  exercise  of  this  ten- 
derness to  the  condition  of  mankind,  which  is 
a  state  of  misery  and  dependence,  that  He  has 
bound  it  upon  us  by  a  natural,  as  well  as  by  a 
moral  law.  Such  is  the  very  frame  and  or- 
ganization of  the  body ;  such  the  motion  and 
direction  of  the  animal  spirits  on  the  sight  of 
distress ;  that  we  cannot  help  being  moved 
and  pained :  and  therefore  before  we  can  be 
unmerciful,  we  must  become  unnatural ;  and 
before  we  offer  a  violence  to  morality,  we  must 
offer  one  to  nature.  And  we  may  observe  also, 
that  the  strength  of  the  social  instinct  is  in 
proportion  to  the  importance  of  its  exercise  in 
human  life :  the  degree  of  emotion  which  ex- 


cites us  to  weep  with  the  miserable,  is 
stronger  than  the  degree  of  sensation  which 
urges  us  to  rejoice  with  the  prosperous ;  be- 
cause the  former  stand  more  in  need  of  our 
sympathy  and  assistance  than  the  latter.  God 
has  clearly  expressed  his  will  in  the  Scrip- 
tures.   There  he  requires  us  to  "  mind  every 
man  also  the  things  of  others ;"  to  be  "  piti- 
ful ;"  to  "  put  on  bowels  of  mercies."  Soci- 
ety is  placed  before  us,  both  civil  and  reli- 
gious, as  a  body,  where,  "  if  one  member  suf- 
fers, all  the  members  suffer  with  it."  The 
Gospel,  we  are  assured,  not  only  illuminates, 
but  softens:  it  takes  away  "the  heart  of 
stone,"  and  gives  us  "a  heart  of  flesh."  This 
influence  of  divine  grace  we  are  never  suffer- 
ed to  overlook  in  those  characters  which  are 
held  forth  as  worthy  of  our  imitation.  View 
David :  what  think  you  of  a  man  who  could 
say  even  of  them  who  had  "  rewarded  him 
evil  for  good,  to  the  spoiling  of  his  soul — As 
for  me,  when  they  were  sick,  my  clothing  was 
sackcloth  :  I  humbled  my  soul  with  fasting : 
I  behaved  myself  as  though  he  had  been  my 
friend  or  brother;  I  bowed  down  heavily,  as 
one  that  mourneth  for  his  mother."  Nehemi- 
ah,  though  high  in  office,  the  favourite  of  the 
king,  and  enjoying  every  personal  satisfaction, 
is  distressed  because  his  "brethren  are  in 
affliction,  and  the  city  of  his  God  lies  waste." 
Jeremiah  cries,  "  For  the  hurt  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  my  people  am  I  hurt,  I  am  black ;  asto- 
nishment has  taken  hold  on  me — O  that  my 
head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain 
of  tears,  that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for 
the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  people." 
Paul  could  ask,  "  Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not 
weak ;  who  is  offended,  and  I  burn  not  I'' 
Above  all,  contemplate  Him  who  "  went  about 
doing  good ;"  "  who,  when  exhausted  with  fa- 
tigue, suffered  the  moments  allotted  to  need- 
ful repose  to  be  invaded,  without  murmuring ; 
who  "  in  all  our  afflictions  was  afflicted ;" 
who,  by  an  exquisite  sensibility,  made  the  sor- 
rows he  beheld  his  own ;  who  "  took  our  in- 
firmities, and  bare  our  sicknesses;"  who, 
when  he  saw  the  multitude  fainting  and  hav- 
ing nothing  to  eat,  "  had  compassion  on  them;" 
who  wept  with  friends  at  the  grave  of  La- 
zarus,  and  over  enemies  as  "  he  drew  near 
Jerusalem." 

Woe  to  such  as  have  no  claim  to  the  honour 
of  classing  with  these  men  of  mercy,  headed 
by  the  God  of  love  !  You  may  perhaps  be  rea- 
dy to  congratulate  yourselves :  you  may  ima- 
gine that  you  escape  much  anguish  ;  and  that 
you  would  only  increase  your  sufferings  by 
sharing  in  the  grief  of  others.  Now,  ac- 
knowledging this,  yet  would  it  not  be  virtu- 
ous, and  peculiarly  praiseworthy'!  would  it 
not  enable  you  to  resemble  Him,  who  "  pleas- 
ed not  himself;"  and  who,  "though  he  was 
rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  became  poor?"  But 
we  are  not  going  to  applaud  insensibility : 
the  tenderness  we  recommended  is  accompa- 


SERMON  X. 


61 


nied  with  sensations  far  superior  to  any  the 
selfish  and  the  unfeeling  ever  experience.  If 
it  is  a  source  of  pain,  it  is  also  a  source  of 
pleasure.  This  sensibility  gives  another  de- 
gree of  life  ;  adds  a  new  sense ;  enlarges  the 
sphere  of  satisfaction ;  and  increases  the  re- 
lish of  enjoyment. 

For  the  unfeeling  wretch  conscience  has 
no  kind  office  to  perform ;  it  has  no  pleasing 
recollections  or  prospects,  with  which  to  re- 
fresh him  ;  no  delicious  entertainments  with 
which  to  feast  him.  It  never  caresses,  but  it 
often  smites. — "Neither  do  they  which  go 
by  say,  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  be  upon  you  ; 
we  bless  you,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord."  For 
him  no  orphan  prays,  no  widow  sings.  To 
all  the  luxury  of  a  Job  he  is  a  stranger — 
"  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me ; 
and  when  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to 
me ;  because  I  delivered  the  poor  when  he 
cried,  the  fatherless,  and  him  that  had  none 
to  help  him  :  the  blessing  of  him  that  was 
ready  to  perish  came  upon  me,  and  I  caused 
the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy."  For  him 
the  evd  day  comes  on,  charged  with  every 
horror.  He  has  no  asylum  in  the  feelings 
of  the  community,  the  happiness  of  whose 
members  he  never  sought.  When  he  fails, 
there  is  none  to  receive  him :  every  applica- 
tion is  rejected ;  homeless  and  destitute,  he 
hears  from  many  a  merciless  lip,  "  His  mis- 
chief is  returned  upon  his  own  head,  and  his 
violent  dealing  is  come  down  upon  his  own 
pate."  Seized  with  affliction,  he  is  led  into 
his  chamber,  but  hears  from  no  inspired 
voice,  as  he  enters,  "  The  Lord  will  deliver 
him  in  time  of  trouble:  the  Lord  will 
strengthen  him  upon  the  bed  of  languishing : 
he  will  make  all  his  bed  in  his  sickness."  His 
offspring  appear :  he  beholds  "  the  desire  of 
his  eyes,"  on  whose  desolate  hours  he  should 
have  entailed  mercy  :  but  not  to  him  belongs 
the  promise,  "  His  seed  is  blessed ;"  no  di- 
vine Comforter  says,  "  Leave  thy  fatherless 
children,  I  will  preserve  them  alive  ;  and  let 
thy  widow  trust  in  me." — "  The  memory  of 
the  just  is  blessed :  but  the  name  of  the  wick- 
ed shall  rot"  To  a  dying  man  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  thought  that  he  shall  not  be 
missed ;  that  his  character  is  more  perishable 
than  his  body  ;  that  the  door  of  life  will  be 
shut  upon  him,  and  bolted,  before  he  is  scarce- 
ly out;  that  sinks  the  wretch  lower  than  the 
grave. — But  "  after  death,  the  judgment ;" 
and  his  rolling  eyes  read,  inscribed  on  the 
wall,  "  He  shall  have  judgment  without  mer- 
cy, who  shewed  no  mercy."  Have  you  cou- 
rage to  pursue  him  further  ]  See  him  at  the 
bar  of  God ;  there  to  answer  for  crimes, 
which  at  no  tribunal  here  are  punishable :  he 
is  tried  for  being  close-handed  and  hard-heart- 
ed— And  what  fellowship  can  there  be  be- 
tween an  unfeeling  wretch,  and  a  Saviour, 
full  of  "tender  mercy  1"—" Then  shall  the 
6 


king  say  unto  them  on  his  left  hand,  depart, 
ye  cursed" — '  Why  ?  we  were  not  profligate, 
we  never  oppressed  any' — "  I  was  an  hunger- 
ed, and  ye  gave  me  no  meat ;  I  was  thirsty, 
and  ye  gave  me  no  drink ;  I  was  a  stranger, 
and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  naked,  and  ye  cloth- 
ed me  not ;  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visit- 
ed me  not" — '  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee  an 
hungered,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked, 
or  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  did  not  minister  unto 
thee  V — "  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of  these 
rny  brethren,  ye  did  it  not  to  me." 

II.  Some  "are at  ease  in  Zion,"  from  infi- 
del presumption.  If  there  be  any  truth  in 
the  Scriptures,  the  dispositions  of  the  genera- 
lity of  mankind  are  very  unsuitable  to  their 
state  and  their  destiny.  When  we  see  them 
amused  with  trifles ;  when  we  view  them 
sleeping  securely  ;  when  we  hear  them  sing- 
ing, devoid  of  all  concern ;  we  are  ready  to 
ask,  Is  this  a  prison  !  Are  these  men  under 
sentence  of  condemnation,  and  waiting  only 
the  hour  of  execution  1 — Such  is  the  testimo- 
ny of  this  Book.  "The  wrath  of  God  is  re- 
vealed from  heaven  against  all  ungodliness 
and  unrighteousness  of  men. — Upon  the  wick- 
ed, God  shall  rain  down  fire  and  brimstone, 
and  an  horrible  tempest :  this  shall  be  the  por- 
tion of  their  cup. — He  that  believeth  not,  is 
condemned  already." — Why  then  are  they 
not  alarmed  1  They  do  not  believe.  Were 
they  persuaded  of  "  the  terror  of  the  Lord," 
it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  live  in  a 
state  of  apathy  and  indifference.  Could  they 
believe  that  "  God  resisteth  the  proud,"  and 
be  easy  in  their  pride  !  Could  they  believe 
that  he  "abhorreth  the  covetous,"  and  be 
easy  in  their  covetousness  1  No;  did  you 
really  believe  the  truth  of  God,  and  were  you 
fully  convinced  that  all  the  threatenings  he 
has  denounced  in  his  word  will  be  infallibly 
accomplished,  "  the  joints  of  your  loins  would 
be  loosed,  and  your  knees  would  smite  one 
against  another."  If  you  had  the  faith  of  a 
Noah,  it  would  "  move  you  with  fear,"  and 
lead  you  to  "  build  an  ark."  If  you  had  only 
the  faith  of  a  devil,  you  would  "  tremble." 
But  you  have  not  even  this.  Thus  the  sacred 
writers  have  reasoned  before  us  :  "  Where- 
fore doth  the  wicked  contemn  God?  He  hath 
said  in  hisheart,  God  will  not  requite  it — They 
have  belied  the  Lord,  and  said,  It  is  not  He; 
neither  shall  evil  come  upon  us,  neither  shall 
we  see  the  sword  or  famine. — Because  sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the  sons  of 
men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil :" — Because 
the  gallows  is  not  in  sight  when  the  judge 
pronounces  the  sentence,  they  conclude  upon 
their  security. — "  Where  is  the  promise  of 
his  coming  V — all  things  continue  as  they 
were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation. — 
One  generation  passeth  away,  and  another 


63 


SERMON  X. 


cometh ;  but  the  earth  abtdeth  for  ever. — 
But,  after  all,  what  is  this  ease  which  flows 
from  infidel  persuasion  ! 

First,  It  is  obtained  with  difficulty.  For  be- 
fore a  man  who  designs  to  get  rest  in  this 
way,  can  sit  down  safe  and  undisturbed,  he 
has  to  prove  that  the  Scripture  is  a  falsehood ; 
he  has  to  reason  down  every  species  of  evi- 
dence ;  he  has  to  bring  his  mind  to  believe 
the  strangest  improbabilities,  and  the  grossest 
contradictions;  he  has  to  explain  how  weak 
men  could  deliver  the  sublimest  wisdom,  and 
wicked  men  could  be  the  most  ardent  friends 
of  virtue,  the  most  zealous  promoters  of  holi- 
ness— he  has  to  demonstrate  that  those  per- 
sons who  took  nothing  on  trust,  and  who  made 
every  kind  of  proof  their  study,  were  all  de- 
ceived where  they  professed  themselves  to 
be  most  certain ;  he  has  to  persuade  himself 
that  he  is  wiser  than  the  wisest  of  mankind  : 
and  though,  in  this  case,  his  vanity  would 
much  aid  his  conviction  ;  yet  surely,  taking 
the  whole  together,  it  can  be  no  inconsidera- 
ble task. 

Secondly,  It  is  partial,  and  liable  to  interrup- 
tion. For  there  can  be  no  perfect  satisfaction, 
without  perfect  certainty.  Now  this,  it  is  im- 
possible so  acquire.  In  spite  of  all  his  endea- 
vours to  extirpate  it,  some  remains  of  truth  will 
occasionally  vex  him.  There  is  an  internal  wit- 
ness, whose  voice  will  be  sometimes  heard : 
when  conscience  cannot  govern,  it  can  cen- 
sure ;  when  it  has  not  power  enough  to  satisfy, 
it  is  able  to  torment.  Sleeping  convictions  will 
sometimes  be  awakened,  and  fresh  endeavours 
will  be  needful  to  lull  them  again  to  repose. 
Though  they  are  not  always  "  in  bondage  to 
fear,"  they  are  as  the  apostle  remarks,  "  sub- 
ject to  it ;"  and  a  faithful  reproof,  or  an  alarm- 
ing sermon,  an  accident  or  a  disease,  a  sudden 
death  or  an  opening  grave,  and  a  thousand 
other  things,  may  revive  their  alarm,  and 
make  them  dread  a  futurity  at  which  they 
have  laboured  to  laugh.  In  these  cases,  their 
grand  resource  is  diversion ;  and  they  rush 
into  company  and  amusement,  in  order  to 
erase  the  impressions.  Yet  who  can  always 
be  engaged  t  who  can  always  avoid  thought  ? 

But,  thirdly,  the  less  liable  it  is  to  be  dis- 
turbed, the  more  awful ;  for  it  is  penal.  It 
shews  that  God  has  suffered  them  to  wander 
very  remote  from  the  truth  they  deemed 
their  enemy,  and  to  penetrate  far  into  the 
darkness  they  loved.  There  is  something 
more  insensible  than  "  a  spirit  of  slumber." 
It  is  questioned,  whether  it  be  possible 
for  any  man  to  be  really  an  atheist:  but 
is  there  any  thing  too  bad  for  a  man  to  fall 
into,  when  abandoned  of  God  1  And  is  there 
nothing  that  can  provoke  God  to  withdraw 
his  assistance  from  the  sinner  1  Is  He  com- 
pelled to  accompany  him  when  he  says,  "  De- 
part from  me,  for  I  desire  not  the  knowledge 
of  thy  ways!"  Is  He  unjust,  because  He 
does  not  force  the  inclinations  of  a  man ;  but 


allows  him,  in  compliance  with  his  own 
wishes,  to  go  alone  !  If  there  be  an  atheist, 
we  should  not  search  tor  him  in  the  heathen 
world,  but  among  those  "  who  are  at  ease  in 
Zion." — "  For  this  people's  heart  is  waxed 
gross,  and  their  ears  are  dull  of  hearing,  and 
their  eyes  they  have  closed  ;  lest  at  any  time 
they  should  see  witli  their  eyes,  and  hear  with 
their  ears,  and  should  understand  with  their 
heart,  and  should  be  converted,  and  I  should 
heal  them. — They  received  not  the  love  of 
the  truth,  that  they  might  be  saved ;  and  for 
this  cause,  God  shall  send  them  strong  de- 
lusion, that  they  should  believe  a  lie;  that 
they  all  might  be  damned  who  believed  not 
the  truth,  but  had  pleasure  in  unrighteous- 
ness." 

Hence,  fourthly,  this  ease  is  fatal.  Its  du- 
ration is  momentary  ;  it  must  end,  and  end  in 
anguish  and  despair.  The  denial  of  any  thing 
does  not  falsify  it.  If  a  man  has  swallowed 
poison,  his  adopting  an  opinion  that  it  cannot 
kill  him,  contributes  nothing  to  his  safety :  and 
it  is  awful  to  stand  and  see  his  conviction  and 
his  death  arriving  together.  Your  denying  a 
resurrection,  will  not  hide  you  forever  in  the 
grave.  Your  disbelieving  a  day  of  retribution, 
will  not  keep  you  from  appearing  before  God. 
"Their  judgment,"  says  the  apostle,  "now 
of  a  long  time  lingereth  not,  and  their  damn- 
ation slumbereth  not:" — while  they  reason, 
it  rolls  on  ;  every  argument  brings  it  one  dis- 
tance nearer. 

The  confutation  set  off  before  the  infidel 
began  the  book,  and  it  may  arrive  before  he 
has  finished  it.  Noah  preached  to  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  old  world — they  derided  him, 
and  pursued  their  business  and  their  plea- 
sures ;  but  "  the  flood  came,  and  took  them 
all  away."  When  Lot  warned  "  his  sons-in- 
law,  he  seemed  unto  them  as  one  that  mock- 
ed :"  but  the  cities  were  destroyed.  Various 
things  prophesied  of  the  Jews,  at  a  time  when 
there  was  no  human  probability  of  their  occur- 
rence, were  minutely  accomplished.  Baby- 
lon seemed  secure :  its  walls  were  impregna- 
ble ;  its  provisions  defied  a  siege  :  hence  her 
confidence :  "  For  thou  hast  trusted  in  thy 
wickedness — thou  hast  said  in  thine  heart,  I 
am,  and  there  is  none  else  beside  me :  there- 
fore shall  evil  come  upon  thee,  thou  shalt 
not  know  from  whence  it  riseth :  and  mischief 
shall  fall  upon  thee,  thou  shalt  not  be  able  to 
put  it  off :  and  desolation  shall  come  upon  thee 
suddenly,  which  thou  shalt  not  know" — And 
it  was  taken  and  destroyed  in  one  night. 
"The  Scriptures  cannot  be  broken:"  there- 
fore thus  it  will  be  with  all  the  threatenings 
of  Heaven  :  and  "  when  they  shall  say,  Peace 
and  safety,  then  sudden  destruction  cometh 
upon  them,  as  travail  upon  a  woman  with 
child ;  and  they  shall  not  escape."  Nor  will 
they  only  be  condemned  notwithstanding  their 
unbelief;  but  they  will  be  punished  for  it. 
Men  are  never  more  offended  than  when  their 


SERMON  X. 


68 


veracity  is  suspected  ;  and  they  are  instantly 
ready  to  demand  satisfaction  for  the  injurious 
affront — and  can  you  "  turn  the  truth  of  God 
into  a  lie,"  with  impunity  !  "  If  there  should 
be  among  you  any  man,  who,  when  he  hear- 
eth  the  wordsofthis  curse,  shall  bless  himself 
in  his  heart,  saying,  I  shall  have  peace,  though 
I  walk  in  the  imagination  of  my  heart  to  add 
drunkenness  to  thirst ;  the  Lord  will  not  spare 
him,  but  then  the  anger  of  the  Lord  and  his 
jealousy  shall  smoke  against  that  man  ;  and 
all  the  curses  that  are  written  in  this  book 
shall  lie  upon  him,  and  the  Lord  shall  blot  out 
his  name  from  under  heaven." 

III.  Some  "  are  at  ease  in  Zion,"  from 
vain  confidence;  relying  on  the  goodness  of 
their  present  state,  and  on  the  certainty  of 
their  future  happiness.  See  one  of  these  de- 
luded creatures  going  up  into  the  temple  to 
pray — "  The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus 
with  himself:  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am 
not  as  other  men  are, — extortioners,  unjust, 
adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican.  I  fast 
twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I 
possess."  In  this  state,  according  to  his  own 
confession,  was  Paul  once — "I  was  alive, 
without  the  law  ;"  cheerful  and  happy,  full 
of  false  hope  and  false  joy,  fully  satisfied  of 
my  acceptance  with  God,  and  a  stranger  to  all 
apprehension  of  danger.  Such  was  the 
Church  of  Laodicea — "Thou  say  est,  I  am 
rich,  and  increased  with  goods,  and  have 
need  of  nothing;  and  knowest  not  that  thou 
art  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor, 
and  blind,  and  naked."  Nor  are  these  in- 
stances unusual,  or  singular  ;  "  for  there  is 
a  generation  that  are  pure  in  their  own 
eyes,  and  yet  are  not  washed  from  their  fil- 
thiness."  There  is  then  such  a  thing  as  spi- 
ritual self-flattery  ;  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
delusive  dependence,  in  religion:  yes; 
"  there  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a 
man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of 
death."  The  unhappy  conclusion  is  drawn 
from  innumerable  sources:  from  pious  an- 
cestors and  distinguished  privileges  ;  from  ri- 
tual observances;  from  formal  duties  in  which 
the  affections  are  never  engaged ;  from  vir- 
tues weighed  against  vices ;  from  comparisons 
of  ourselves  with  others;  from  partial  re- 
formations ;  from  hearing  sermons ;  from 
dreams ;  from  sudden  impulses ;  from  the 
casual  application  of  promises;  from  ortho- 
doxy ;  from  terror  in  the  conscience ;  from 
fervour  in  the  passions  ;  from  spiritual  gifts. 
These  are  only  a  few  articles  from  the  in- 
ventory of  delusion,  by  which  the  enemy  of 
souls,  according  to  the  character  and  circum- 
stances of  mankind,  excites  and  encourages 
r  hope  which  will  one  day  cover  its  possessor 
with  shame.  And  it  sometimes  happens  that 
the  same  person  successively  occupies  many 
of  these  refuges  of  lies  :  as  he  is  expelled  by 
conviction  from  one,  there  is  another  to  re- 
ceive him :  only  the  continuance  of  his  satis- 


faction requires,  that  if  his  knowledge  in- 
crease, every  fresh  deception  should  become 
more  subtle  and  specious.  Thus  "the  strong 
man  armed  keepeth  his  palace ;"  and  while  this 
is  the  case,  "  his  goods  are  in  peace."  There 
is  a  stillness  in  the  conscience.  The  mind 
has  no  misgiving  fears.  Such  characters 
are  backward  to  self-examination  ;  and  wish 
not  to  have  the  good  opinion  they  entertain 
of  themselves  shaken.  If  you  lived  with 
them,  you  would  never  find  them  walking 
mournfully  before  the  Lord  :  you  would  never 
hear  them  complaining  of  their  inward  con- 
flict, or  hear  them  asking,  "  What  must  I  do 
to  be  saved  V — Nothing  can  be  more  dread- 
ful than  this  state:  for  consider  only  two 
things. 

First,  this  confidence  keeps  them  from  look- 
ing after  salvation.  Were  it  not  for  this  shel- 
ter, they  would  be  induced  to  flee  for  refuge. 
They  are  too  good  to  be  saved.  Hence,  says 
our  Saviour,  "  publicans  and  harlots  shall  en- 
ter into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  before"  such. 
Few  ever  pretend  to  vindicate  vice ;  and  a 
vigorous  charge  on  the  conscience  of  the  un- 
godly may  succeed  ;  but  no  weapon  can  pene- 
trate this  self-righteous  armour.  While  the 
man  continues  wrapped  up  in  this  presumption, 
there  is  no  hope  of  his  conversion;  the  word 
has  no  power  over  him.  Do  we  exhort  him 
to  believe  1  He  congratulates  himself  that  he 
is  a  believer.  Do  we  urge  him  to  repentance  7 
He  needs  none.  Do  we  press  him  to  escape 
from  the  wrath  to  come?  He  is  in  no  danger. 
He  applies  to  himself  only  promises  and  pri- 
vileges to  which  he  has  no  claim,  and  which 
will  only  serve  to  render  the  consequences  of 
his  delusion  the  more  painful. 

For,  secondly,  this  course  will  terminate  in 
woful  surprise  and  disappointment.  The 
foolish  builder,  who  did  not  suspect  the  stabili- 
ty of  the  house,  will  learn  its  weakness  in  the 
storm  and  the  ruins:  the  man  is  past  all  hope 
before  he  begins  to  fear.  His  mistake  is  dis- 
covered when  it  is  too  late  to  be  rectified  !  O 
what  confusion  !  O  the  horrors  of  regret  and 
of  despair  ! — "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate;  for  many  will  seek  to  enter  in,  and  shall 
not  be  able.  When  once  the  master  of  the 
house  is  risen  up,  and  hath  shut  to  the  door, 
and  ye  begin  to  stand  without,  and  to  knock 
at  the  door,  saying,  Lord,  Lord,  open  unto  us; 
and  he  shall  answer,  and  say  unto  you,  I  know 
you  not  whence  you  are;  then  shall  ye  begin 
to  say,  we  have  eaten  and  drunk  in  thy  pre- 
sence, and  thou  hast  taught  in  our  streets. 
But  he  shall  say,  I  tell  you,  I  know  you  not 
whence  you  are  ;  depart  from  me,  all  ye  work- 
ers of  iniquity.  There  shall  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth, when  ye  shall  see  Abraham, 
and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  all  the  prophets,  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  ye  yourselves 
thrust  out."  My  dear  hearers,  remember  this 
awful  caution ;  and  since  so  many  mistake, 
"  let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed 


64 


SERMON  X. 


lest  he  fall."  Dare  you  trust  your  state  with- 
out trying  it?  In  a  business  of  everlasting  im- 
portance, can  you  be  satisfied  with  equivocal 
or  with  slender  evidence]  In  all  other  cases, 
will  you  think  you  can  never  be  too  sure,  and 
this  is  the  only  one  in  which  you  are  resolved 
never  to  doubt  ?  O  see  that  you  possess  that 
"grace  which  bringeth  salvation."  Go,  and 
compare  your  character  with  the  representa- 
tions given  of  real  Christians  in  the  Scriptures. 
Go,  and  "  learn  what  that  meaneth — If  any 
man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature  :  old 
things  are  passed  away;  behold,  all  things 
are  become  new." — We  sometimes  try  to 
alarm  you  by  your  sin  ;  we  would  alarm  you, 
in  this  discourse,  by  your  religion.  The  re- 
ligion of  many  of  you  is  likely  to  prove  the 
means  of  your  eternal  ruin. 
IV.  Some  "  are  at  ease  in  Zion,"  from 

PRACTICAL  INDIFFERENCE. — You  Would  much 

offend  persons  of  this  class,  were  you  to  in- 
quire whether  they  believed  the  Scripture. 
They  read  it  daily:  they  come  to  God's  mi- 
nisters as  his  people  come  :  and  the  preacher 
"  is  unto  them  as  a  very  lovely  song  of  one 
that  hath  a  pleasant  voice,  and  can  play  well 
on  an  instrument;  for  they  hear  his  words, 
but  they  do  them  not."    They  are  "  like  unto 
a  man  beholding  his  natural  face  in  a  glass : 
for  he  beholdeth  himself,  and  goeth  his  way, 
and  straightway  forgetteth  what  manner  of 
man  he  was."    Nor  are  these  persons  to  be 
charged  sentimentally  with  Antinomianism, 
or  any  other  error.    They  know  the  Gospel 
in  theory ;  but  they  are  strangers  to  its  divine 
efficacy.    Of  all  the  various  characters  we 
have  to  deal  with  in  our  ministry,  these  are 
the  most  unlikely  to  insure  success.  When 
we  endeavour  to  convince  the  ignorant,  or  to 
rouse  the  unthinking,  we  feel  some  hope; 
but  as  for  those  of  you  who  have  heard  the 
Gospel  from  your  infancy,  or  who  have  sat  un- 
der it  long  enough  to  learn  distinctly  and  fa- 
miliarly all  the  truths  it  contains ;  who  know 
every  thing  we  can  advance;  who  believe 
every  thing  we  can  prove ;  who  can  even 
"contend  earnestly  for  the  faith  once  deliver- 
ed to  the  saints,"  and  rest  satisfied,  regardless 
of  the  influence  of  these  things  in  your  hearts 
and  lives — you,  you  are  the  most  likely  to 
drive  ministers  to  despair.    We  preach :  you 
acknowledge  and  ad  mire — but  you  discover 
no  more  concern  to  obtain  the  one  thing  need- 
ful we  propose,  than  if  you  were  persuaded 
we  called  you  "to  follow  a  cunningly  devis- 
ed fable."    You  believe  there  is  no  felicity  in 
the  creature,  and  that  satisfaction  is  to  be 
found  in  God  only.    The  conviction  is  just: 
but  it  is  completely  useless ;  for  you  are  "  for- 
saking the  fountain  of  living  waters,  and  hew- 
ing out  to  yourselves  broken  cisterns,  cisterns 
that  can  hold  no  water."    You  confess  there 
is  a  hell,  and  that  its  misery  is  extreme;  but 
you  never  take  one  step  to  avoid  it.    We  cry, 
"  Death  is  rapidly  approaching  you ;  and  the ! 


Judge  standeth  before  the  door."  You  an- 
swer, Yes;  and  slumber  on.  Your  life  is  a 
perpetual  contradiction  to  your  creed :  you  are 
not  happy,  and  contrive  not  to  be  miserable. 

O  what  a  waste  of  means  and  privileges 
have  you  occasioned  !  Why  did  you  not  in- 
form us  from  the  beginning  that  you  never  in- 
tended to  regard  these  things  ?  Then  we  could 
have  turned  to  others :  you  have  robbed  them 
of  sermons  which  they  would  have  heard  to 
purpose,  and  which  you  have  heard  in  vain. 
I  need  not  say,  you  are  not  Christians — that 
you  are  wholly  unlike  them — that  you  do  not 
"  war  a  good  warfare" — that  you  do  not  "  run 
the  race  set  before  you :"  for  you  are  acquaint- 
ed with  all  this :  you  do  not  mistake  your  con- 
dition ;  you  know  you  are  in  a  state  of  con- 
demnation— and  are  still  at  ease ! !  O  what  a 
paradox  are  you  ! — Nothing  can  be  so  hateful 
to  the  Supreme  Being  as  this  state  of  inacti- 
vity. He  would  you  "  were  either  cold  or 
hot."  Since  you  know  your  Lord's  will,  and 
do  it  not,  you  will  "  be  beaten  with  many 
stripes." — "  It  will  be  more  tolerable  for  So- 
dom and  Gomorrah  in  the  day  of  j  udgment  than 
for  you."  No  instance  in  the  Scripture  is  re- 
corded of  the  conversion  of  persons  in  your  pe- 
culiar circumstances.  You  are  sermon-proof. 
A  Bible  has  poured  forth  all  its  treasures  be- 
fore you :  it  has  thrown  down  at  your  feet  hea- 
ven and  hell — but  it  has  excited  neither  hope 
nor  fear.  Surely,  you  have  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  means,  so  long  applied  in  vain,  will 
be  always  useless:  for  what  probability  is 
there  that  the  word  which  has  done  nothing 
already,  should  prove  efficacious  now?  Will 
the  sword  of  the  Spirit  become  keener  ?  Will 
the  remedy  acquire  more  virtue  to  heal?'! 

This  illustration  of  our  subject  leads  us  to 
suggest  the  following  inferences. 

First,  If  "  woe  be  to  them  that  are  at  ease 
in  Zion;"  surely  they  are  highly  criminal, 
who  countenance  and  promote  such  a  state. 
Of  this  number  are  ministers,  who  preach  so 
as  never  to  give  offence,  or  excite  alarm ; 
"saying,  Peace,  peace,  when  there  is  no 
peace." — "  A  wonderful  and  horrible  thing  is 
committed  in  the  land  :  the  prophets  prophesy 
falsely,  and  the  priests  bear  rule  by  their 
means ;  and  my  people  love  to  have  it  so : 
and  what  will  you  do  in  the  end  thereof?"  O 
how  dreadful  will  it  be  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment to  hear  the  reproach — "There  is  the 
man  that  deceived  me,  and  thereby  destroyed 
me.    There  is  the  cursed  watchman,  who  ne- 
ver announced  my  danger,  till  the  enemy  had 
secured  his  prize." — Of  this  number  also  are 
characters  who  will  never  seize  an  opportuni- 
ty to  warn  a  fellow-creature,  or  a  friend,  of 
his  condition  ;  and  who  will  suffer  a  soul  to 
perish,  rather  than  incur  a  reflection,  or  a 
frown,  by  the  exercise  of  faithful  kindness. 
"  Thou  shalt  not  hate  thy  brother  in  thine 
heart;  thou  shalt  in  any  wise  rebuke  thy 
neighbour,  and  not  suffer  sin  upon  him." 


SERMON  X. 


65 


Secondly,  If"  woe  be  to  them  that  are  at 
ease  in  Zion,"  let  none  be  troubled  when  they 
find  their  connexions  distressed  and  alarmed 
with  a  sense  of  their  sin  and  danger."  "  This 
sickness  is  not  unto  death."  This  pain  is  a 
sign  of  returning  life.  This  "  want"  will 
make  the  prodigal  think  of  home,  where 
"  there  is  bread  enough  and  to  spare."  When 
people  of  the  world  see  their  friends  and  rela- 
tions in  spiritual  anxiety,  they  fear  approach- 
ing derangement  or  melancholy  ;  they  are  ea- 
ger to  send  them  into  company,  or  to  order 
them  to  the  theatre.  But  those  who  have 
been  through  this  state  of  mind  themselves, 
can  rejoice  while  they  sympathize :  knowing 
that  it  is  the  common  method  of  the  Saviour 
to  wound  before  he  heals,  to  humble  before  he 
exalts;  and  hoping  that  this  process  is  the 
preparation  for  that  mercy  which  is  never  priz- 
ed till  we  are  made  to  feel  our  misery.  Such 
was  the  disposition  of  the  apostle — "  Now  I 
rejoice,  not  that  ye  were  made  sorry,  but  that 
ye  sorrowed  to  repentance :  for  godly  sorrow 
worketh  repentance  to  salvation  not  to  be  re- 
pented of;  but  the  sorrow  of  the  world  work- 
eth death." 

Thirdly,  If  "  woe  be  to  them  that  are  at 
ease  in  Zion,"  there  is  nothing  so  much  to  be 
dreaded  as  false  security  in  religion.  I  know 
that  there  are  many  alarms  which  never  issue 
in  salvation.  I  know  that  many  fear  hell,  who 
never  fear  sin.  But  still,  these  distressing 
convictions  are  hopeful :  they  produce  move- 
ments which  may  receive  a  heavenly  tenden- 
cy :  they  look  like  the  harbingers  of  religion  : 
they  are  blossoms,  if  not  fruit;  and  though 
they  may  be  blighted  or  shaken  off,  we  can- 
not help  hailing  them. — Some  are  afraid  of 
their  trouble :  we  wish  they  were  afraid  of 
their  peace.  They  are  glad  when,  by  com- 
pany or  amusement,  they  have  freed  them- 
selves from  certain  painful  impressions; 
whereas  this  may  be  rather  a  judgment  than 
a  mercy.  They  rejoice,  says  an  old  divine, 
to  get  rid  of  a  shaking  ague,  though  it  has 
left  them  in  a  deep  decline.  There  is  nothing 
so  fatal  as  the  carelessness  and  indifference 
of  a  man  who  was  never  distressed  about  sin, 
or  deprived  of  one  hour's  rest  by  saying, 
"  What  have  I  done !"  It  is  terrible  when  a 
man  is  struck  with  spiritual  senselessness.  It 
is  better  for  God  to  ruin  your  estate,  to  bereave 
you  of  your  friends,  to  destroy  your  health, 
than  suffer  you  to  have  a  "  seared  conscience," 
or  a  heart  "  hardened  through  the  deceitful- 
ness  of  sin."  It  would  have  been  well,  if  the 
foolish  virgins  had  been  roused  from  their 
sleep  before  the  midnight  cry,  had  it  been 
done  even  by  the  intrusion  of  robbers. — This 
induces  us  to  be  so  urgent  in  this  case ;  anxious 
if  by  any  means  to  produce  in  you  that  salu- 
tary alarm  which  will  lead  you  to  precaution 
and  remedy ;  and,  by  destroying  the  peace  of 
sin,  secure  to  you  "  the  peace  of  God,  which 
passeth  all  understanding." 

I  6* 


Fourthly,  If  "  woe  be  to  them  that  are  at 
ease  in  Zion ;"  there  is  consolation  for  them 
that  are  distressed,  there.  Nothing  is  more 
common  than  to  find  gracious  souls  filled  with 
discouraging  apprehensions  and  fears — and 
frequently  "  they  refuse  to  be  comforted." 
We  do  not  admire  and  applaud  all  their  doubts 
and  their  dejections ;  but  these  painful  scru- 
ples are  easily  accounted  for,  and  they  lie  on 
the  safe  side.  They  are  very  distinguishable 
from  unbelief ;  and  arise — 1.  From  their  view 
of  the  importance  of  the  concern :  it  is  nothing 
less  than  the  everlasting  salvation  of  their 
souls.  Such  a  thing  cannot  be  slightly  deter- 
mined :  they  are  always  suspicious;  they  can 
never  have  sufficient  certainty  ;  they  require 
evidence  upon  evidence — "  This  is  the  only 
opportunity  to  ensure  my  welfare — What  if  I 
should  be  mistaken  V  2.  From  a  conviction 
of  the  deceitfulness  of  their  own  hearts,  which 
have  often  imposed  upon  them.  3.  From  a 
recollection  that  many  live  and  die  in  their 
delusion — and  what  if  they  should  be  of  the 
number  ?  Thus  they  can  hardly  argue  them- 
selves into  ease  ;  and  while  others  do  not  fear 
at  all,  these  fear  too  much.  While  others  will 
not  perceive  the  saddest  evidences  of  sin,  these 
will  hardly  discern  the  fairest  evidences  of 
grace.  Both  are  blameable ;  but  they  are  not 
equally  dangerous.  The  one  loses  his  peace 
for  a  time  ;  the  other  loses  his  soul  for  ever. 
It  is  better  to  have  a  burdened,  than  a  benumb- 
ed conscience.  It  is  better  to  be  scrupulous, 
than  licentious.  They  are  not  likely  to  pe- 
rish, who  are  afraid  of  perishing. 

But,  after  all,  Christians,  your  God  is  con- 
cerned, not  only  for  your  safety,  but  for  your 
happiness ;  and  many  advantages  would  arise 
from  your  spiritual  joy.  Jesus  is  "appointed 
unto  them  that  mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  them 
beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning, 
the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heavi- 
ness." He  has  promised  "  another  Comforter, 
who  shall  abide  with  you  for  ever."  He 
has  written  this  Book  for  your  "  learning ; 
that  you,  through  patience  and  comfort  of  the 
Scriptures,  might  have  hope."  To  his  minis- 
ters he  has  said,  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my 
people."  O  that  I  could  now  execute  my 
commission !  O  that  I  had  the  tongue  of  the 
learned,  and  could  speak  a  word  in  season  to 
him  that  is  weary  !  O  that  I  could  remove  all 
your  groundless  fears  and  distressing  jealous- 
ies !  O  that  I  could  place  the  promises  with- 
in your  view,  and  within  your  reach  ! — "  Bless- 
ed are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven."  "  Blessed  are  they  that 
mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted."  "  Bless- 
ed are  they  that  do  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled." 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  ob- 
tain mercy." — Remember,  the  sacrifices  of 
God  are  a  broken  spirit ;  a  broken  and  a  con- 
trite heart,  God  will  not  despise."  Remember, 
the  dawn  is  the  pledge  and  the  beginning  of 


66 


SERMON  XL 


day.  Remember,  your  desires  are  an  evidence 
of  something  good,  and  an  "  assurance  of 
something  better." — "Now  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  himself,  and  God  even  our  Father, 
which  hath  loved  us,  and  hath  given  us  ever- 
lasting consolation  and  good  hope  through 
grace,  comfort  your  hearts,  and  stablish  you 
in  every  good  word  and  work."  Amen. 


SERMON  XI. 


THE  PRIVILEGES  OF  THE  RIGHT- 
EOUS. 

For  the  Lord  God  is  a  sun  and  shield:  the 
Lord  -will  give  grace  and  glory  ;  no  good 
thing  -will  he  withhold  from  them  that  -walk 
uprightly. — Psalm  lxxxiv.  11. 

David  was  remarkably  distinguished  by  the 
fervency  of  sacred  affections.  He  could  say. 
with  propriety,  "  The  zeal  of  thy  house  hath 
eaten  me  up."  Hence  his  anxiety  and  reso- 
lution to  establish  a  residence  for  the  ark : 
"  Surely,  I  will  not  come  into  the  tabernacle 
of  my  house,  nor  go  up  into  my  bed  ;  I  will 
not  give  sleep  to  mine  eyes,  or  slumber  to 
mine  eyelids ;  until  I  find  out  a  place  for  the 
Lord,  an  habitation  for  the  mighty  God  of  Ja- 
cob." Hence  his  peculiar  distress,  when  de- 
prived of  public  privileges :  "  When  I  remem- 
ber these  things,  I  pour  out  my  soul  in  me : 
for  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude;  I  went 
with  them  to  the  house  of  God,  with  the  voice 
of  joy  and  praise ;  with  a  multitude  that  kept 
holy-day."  When,  by  the  unnatural  rebellion 
of  Absalom,  he  is  driven  from  his  throne,  he 
feels  the  loss  of  his  palace  much  less  than  the 
loss  of  the  sanctuary  ;  and  the  feelings  of  the 
king  are  absorbed  in  the  concern  of  the  wor- 
shipper for  the  ordinances  of  religion. 

Infidels  may  indeed  endeavour  to  explain 
this,  by  supposing  that  David  was  a  man  of  a 
melancholy  turn  of  mind  ;  and  that,  like  other 
weak  and  gloomy  persons,  he  sought  relief  in 
devotional  exercises,  when  he  should  have 
been  engaged  in  forming  wise  counsels,  and 
adopting  vigorous  measures.  But  let  us  attend 
to  his  real  character.  He  was  the  hero  of  the 
age ;  and  had  immortalized  his  name  by  nu- 
merous exploits.  In  him  were  united  the 
prowess  of  the  soldier  and  the  skill  of  the  ge- 
neral ;  and  a  succession  of  the  most  brilliant 
victories  had  procured  for  him  the  highest  con- 
fidence, as  well  as  the  highest  honour.  He 
was  qualified  to  rule  as  a  judge,  and  to  govern 
as  a  politician.  To  all  these  he  added  the 
charms  of  poetry  and  music ;  and  "  the  harp 
of  the  son  of  Jesse  still  continues  to  drive 
away  the  evil  spirit."  Nevertheless  he  passes 
by  all  these  distinctions :  every  other  exercise, 
every  other  pleasure,  gives  place  to  one  :  in 
this  he  centres  all  his  happiness — "  One  thing 
have  I  desired  of  the  Lord :  that  will  I  seek 


after:  that  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the 
beauty  of  the  Lord,  and  to  inquire  in  his  tem- 
ple." "  How  amiable  are  thy  tabernacles,  O 
Lord  of  Hosts  !"  "  Blessed  are  they  that  dwell 
in  thine  house;  they  will  be  still  praising 
thee."  "  For  a  day  in  thy  courts  is  better 
than  a  thousand  :  I  had  rather  be  a  door-keeper 
in  the  house  of  my  God,  than  to  dwell  in  the 
tents  of  wickedness." — Such  was  the  lan- 
guage of  his  decided  preference.  Nor  was  it 
the  ebullition  of  enthusiasm  :  he  speaks  "  the 
words  of  truth  and  soberness :"  he  gives  solid 
reasons  for  his  predilection.  The  House  of 
God  had  afforded  him  multiplied  advantages : 
there  he  had  experienced  Divine  manifesta- 
tions and  influences  ;  there  he  hoped  to  enjoy 
fresh  communion,  and  renewed  supplies ; 
"  for  the  Lord  God  is  a  Sun  and  a  Shield  :  the 
Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory  ;  and  no  good 
thing  will  he  withhold  from  them  that  walk 
uprightly."  Let  us  examine  these  words  in 
a  sense  more  detached  and  general.  Let  us 
contemplate  "  the  Lord  God"  we  adore  in  the 
sanctuary  ;  let  us  consider  what  He  is — "  a 

SUN  AND  SHIELD."    What  He  GIVES  "  GRACE 

AND  GLORY."     What  He    WITHHOLDS  "  NO 

good  thing."    And  whom  He  regards — 

"  THEM  THAT  WALK  UPRIGHTLY." 

Part  I.  If  God,  my  brethren,  speaks  to 
man,  He  must  condescend  to  employ  human 
language,  not  divine.  He  has  done  so :  and 
behold  nature  and  art  lending  their  combined 
powers  to  aid  the  weakness  of  our  apprehen- 
sion !  Nature  furnishes  us  with  a  sun,  and  art 
with  a  shield;  and  all  that  is  implied  in  these 
images,  and  more  than  all,  is  God  to  his  peo- 
ple. 

He  is  a  "  Sun." — Who  can  be  ignorant  of 
the  glory  and  importance  of  this  luminary  in 
the  system  of  nature — always  the  same ;  dis- 
pelling the  horrors  of  darkness ;  making  our 
day ;  gladdening,  fertilizing,  adorning  the 
whole  creation  of  God  ? — Every  thing  here  be- 
low is  changeable  and  perishing.  "  The  grass 
withereth  ;  the  flower  thereof  fadeth  away." 
Man  himself  partakes  of  the  general  instabili- 
ty. How  many  empires  has  the  sun  beheld 
rising  and  falling !  how  many  generations  has 
it  seen  successively  descending  into  the  grave ! 
how  many  new  possessors  have  occupied  yon- 
der estate  !  how  many  fresh  classes  of  labour- 
ers have  toiled  in  yonder  field — while  the 
same  sun,  from  the  beginning,  has  annually 
called  forth  the  produce  !  At  this  moment  I 
feel  the  very  sun  which  "  beat  upon  the  head 
of  Jonah."  While  I  speak,  mine  eye  sees  the 
very  same  sun  which  shone  on  "  the  dial  of 
Ahaz ;"  and  "  stood  still  in  the  valley  of  Aja- 
lon :"  the  very  same  sun  which  saw  our  Sa- 
viour "  going  about  doing  good  ;"  Noah  step- 
ping forth  from  the  ark ;  Adam  walking  in  the 
garden  of  Eden  !  It  has  shone  nearly  six  thou- 
sand years ;  but  it  is  unaltered.  It  has  been 
perpetually  dispensing  its  beams.    But  it  is 


SERMON  XI. 


87 


undiminished :  it  lias  blessed  myriads ;  but  it 
is  not  less  able  to  cheer  us.  Kindle  a  thou- 
sand lamps  or  fires, — they  will  not  enable  you 
to  discern  the  sun  ;  the  sun  can  only  be  seen 
by  his  own  light.  As  he  discovers  himself,  so 
he  renders  every  thing-  else  visible :  by  means 
of  his  rays,  the  volume  charms  us,  we  hail  the 
smiling  face  of  friendship,  we  pursue  our  call- 
ings, and  shun  the  dangers  to  which  we  are 
exposed.  "  If  any  man  walk  in  the  day,  he 
stumbleth  not,  because  he  seeth  the  light  of 
this  world."  "  The  sun  ariseth — man  goeth 
forth  to  his  work  and  to  his  labour  until  the 
evening."  The  illumination  of  the  sun  is  pro- 
gressive. The  dawn  is  neither  clear  nor  dark ; 
night  reluctantly  resigns  its  sway ;  it  strug- 
gles for  a  while,  but  by-and-by  it  yields :  the 
shadows  retire,  the  clouds  disperse,  the  mists 
and  fogs  evaporate,  before  the  rising  orb  ;  and 
the  "  shining  light  shineth  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day." — And  "  truly  the  light  is 
sweet ;  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to 
behold  the  sun."  Nature ' smiles  ;  the  birds 
welcome  his  approach ;  the  lark  rises  up,  and 
sings  as  he  ascends ;  the  little  lambs  are  sport- 
ive with  the  sympathy  ;  children  are  eager  to 
go  abroad.  How  welcome  is  the  return  of  the 
sun  after  the  dreary  hours  of  night,  and  the 
chilling  weeks  of  winter  !  See  those  poor  crea- 
tures, who  lose  its  presence  for  several  months 
at  a  time — see  them,  on  its  return,  climbing 
to  the  tops  of  their  frozen  mountains,  with 
longing  eyes,  straining  to  catch  a  greedy 
glance ! — Though  the  sun  be  so  immensely 
remote,  we  feel  him  near:  what  a  penetra- 
tion, what  a  potency,  is  there  in  his  rays ! 
how  he  warms,  enlivens,  fructifies!  David 
tells  us,  "  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the  heat 
thereof :"  Moses  speaks  of  "  the  precious 
things  put  forth  by  the  sun."  For,  without  his 
influences,  vain  would  be  the  labour  of  the  ox, 
and  the  skill  of  the  husbandman.  He  produ- 
ces the  loveliness  of  spring,  and  the  abundance 
of  autumn.  He  "  renews  the  face  of  the  earth ;" 
he  decks  all  nature  in  charms. 

I  imagine  myself  abroad  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter. I  look  around  me.  All  exhibits  a  scene 
of  desolation :  the  earth  is  covered  with  snow ; 
the  rivers  are  sealed  up  with  ice ;  the  vege- 
table tribes  are  dead,  and  the  tuneful  dumb ; 
favourite  walks  and  beloved  gardens,  like 
friends  in  adversity,  are  abandoned  by  their 
admirers:  "  He  sendeth  abroad  his  ice,  like 
morsels ;  who  can  stand  before  his  cold  ?"  I 
rush  in;  and  after  the  lapse  of  a  very  few 
months,  I  come  forth,  and  take  a  fresh  survey. 
I  am  filled  with  wonder.  The  ground  is  dress- 
ed "  in  living  green."  The  woods  are  cover- 
ed with  foliage,  "  where  the  birds  build  their 
nests,"  and  indulge  their  songs.  "The flow- 
ers appear  on  the  earth." — What  has  the  sun 
been  doing  7  He  has  perfumed  the  rose ;  he 
has  painted  the  tulip ;  he  has  made  "  the  val- 
leys to  stand  thick  with  corn,  and  the  little 


hills  to  rejoice  on  every  side ;"  "  he  has  made 
all  things  new." 

And  who  is  not  reminded  by  all  this  of  One, 
"  who  is  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  there 
is  no  variableness,  or  shadow  of  turning!" — 
And  He  only  can  be  known  by  his  own  disco- 
veries. "  As  it  is  written,  Eye  hath  not  seen, 
nor  ear  heard,  nor  have  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  them  that  love  him.  But  God  hath  re- 
vealed them  unto  us  by  his  Spirit:  for  the 
Spirit  searcheth  all  things,  even  the  deep 
things  of  God.  For  what  man  knoweth  the 
things  of  a  man,  save  the  spirit  of  a  man 
which  is  in  him  1  Even  so,  the  things  of  God 
knoweth  no  man,  but  the  Spirit  of  God." — 
"  God  is  light :"  he  scattered  "  the  darkness 
which  covered  the  earth." — "Through  the 
tender  mercy  of  our  God,  the  day-spring  from 
on  high  hath  visited  us,  to  give  light  to  them 
that  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow  of 
death ;  to  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace." 
— "  He  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out 
of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  He  has  opened 
"  the  eyes  of  our  understanding ;"  subdued  our 
prejudices ;  fixed  our  attention ;  and  given  us 
a  taste  capable  of  relishing  the  sublime  truths 
of  his  word.  He  "has  called  us  out  of  dark- 
ness into  his  marvellous  light." 

— His  people  are  not  strangers  to  happiness, 
and  they  derive  it  all  from  him.  The  know- 
ledge he  gives  them  "  rejoiceth  the  heart." 
He  fills  them  "  with  all  joy  and  peace,  in  be- 
lieving." His  "  ways  are  ways  of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all"  his  "  paths  are  peace."  He  lifts 
up  "the  light  of  his  countenance  upon"  them, 
and  this  puts  "  gladness  into  their  hearts,  more 
than"  the  wicked  experience  "  when  their 
corn  and  wine  increase."  If  they  have  sea- 
sons which  may  be  called  their  night,  or  their 
winter,  they  are  occasioned  by  his  absence: 
"  He  hides  his  face,  and  they  are  troubled : 
then  they  cry,  O  when  wilt  thou  come  unto 
me  !" — Cold,  languishing,  dead,  before ;  when 
He  returns,  he  brings  prosperity.  "  He  works 
in  us  to  will  and  to  do:"  he  enlivens  every  du- 
ty, and  actuates  every  grace.  Quickened  by 
his  influences,  our  religion  buds  forth:  we 
"blossom  as  the  rose;"  we  are  "filled  with 
all  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  which  are  by 
Jesus  Christ  unto  the  glory  and  praise  of  God." 

— "  The  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  is  up- 
on us."  Even  here  the  change  which  Divine 
grace  accomplishes  is  truly  marvellous :  but 
we  shall  "see  greater  things  than  these." 
That  soul  will  soon  be  "  presented  faultless 
before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with  exceed- 
ing joy."  That  body  too  shall  partake  of  the 
renovation :  "  it  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is 
raised  in  incorruption  ;  it  is  sown  in  dishon- 
our, it  is  raised  in  glory  ;  it  is  sown  in  weak- 
ness, it  is  raised  in  power  ;  it  is  sown  a  natu- 


66 


SERMON  XL 


ral  body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body." — "  He 
will  beautify  the  meek  with  salvation." — Be- 
hold the  sublimest  image  which  even  the 
imagination  of  David  could  seize;  but  even 
this  falls  infinitely  below  the  subject  to  which 
it  is  applied.  After  considering  the  magni- 
tude of  its  body,  the  rapidity  of  its  light,  the 
force  of  its  influence,  and  all  the  wonderful 
things  which  philosophers  have  told  us ;  hear 
our  Saviour  saying,  "  He  maketh  his  sun  to 
rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good :"  and  re- 
member, it  is  only  one  of  his  creatures,  which 
he  made  by  "  the  breath  of  his  mouth ;"  which 
he  upholds  "  by  the  word  of  his  power;"  and 
which  he  commands  with  infinitely  more  ease 
than  you  can  manage  the  smallest  lamp  :  it  is 
only  one  ray  of  his  glory. — The  insufficiency 
of  all  metaphor  requires  a  variety  of  compari- 
son ;  and  hence  David  adds, 

"The  Lord  God  is  a  shield."  This  piece  of 
defensive  armour  has  been  made  of  different 
materials.  There  have  been  shields  of  lea- 
ther, of  wood,  of  iron,  of  brass,  and  some  even 
of  silver  and  gold.  Your  shield,  O  Christian, 
is  divine. — He,  to  whom  "  belong  the  shields 
of  the  earth,"  who  lends  the  strongest  all 
their  strength,  with  whom  "  nothing  is  im- 
possible,"— He  is  your  shield— a  shield  al- 
ways at  hand ;  impenetrable  by  any  weapon ; 
capacious,  encompassing,  adequate — For  what 
part  of  the  Christian  lies  uncovered,  unpro- 
tected 1 — His  substance  ?  "  Has  he  not  made 
an  hedge  about  him;  and  about  his  house,  and 
about  all  that  he  hath  on  every  side?" — His 
reputation  3  "  He  shall  hide  them  in  the  se- 
cret of  his  presence  from  the  pride  of  man; 
he  shall  keep  them  secretly  in  a  pavilion  from 
the  strife  of  tongues." — His  body  ?  "  He  keep- 
eth  all  his  bones;  not  one  of  them  is  broken." 
— His  soul !  "  The  Lord  shall  preserve  thee 
from  all  evil :  he  shall  preserve  thy  soul." 
The  defence  of  our  health  and  of  our  estate  is 
conditional,  and  is  decided  in  subserviency  to 
our  spiritual  and  everlasting  welfare ;  but  for 
the  safety  of  the  soul  God  has  absolutely  en- 
gaged :  this  "  shall  never  perish."  Although 
the  enemies  that  conspire  to  destroy  it  are 
formidable  and  numerous,  they  shall  all  rage 
in  vain.  In  the  perfections,  the  word,  the 
providence,  the  grace  of  God,  we  find  ample 
refuge  and  security.  O  Christian!  while  an 
apprehension  of  exposure,  and  a  conscious- 
ness of  weakness,  is  every  day  pressing  upon 
your  mind,  and  urging  you  to  draw  very  | 
gloomy  conclusions ;  remember  the  assu- 
rance of  effectual  assistance  and  defence :  by 
faith,  see  God  placing  himself  between  you  and 
danger ;  see  Jehovah  spreading  himself  all 
around  for  your  protection ;  and  fulfilling  the 
promise,  "  As  the  mountains  are  high  about 
Jerusalem,  so  the  Lord  is  round  about  his 
people,  from  henceforth  even  for  ever." — 
"  For  I,"  saith  the  Lord,  "  will  be  unto  her  a 
wall  of  fire  round  about,  and  I  will  be  the 
glory  in  the  midst  of  her."    Ah !  well  may 


I  Wisdom  say,  "  Whoso  hearkeneth  unto  me 
I  shall  dwell  safely,  and  shall  be  quiet  from  the 
fear  of  evil."  And  well  may  you  say,  and 
"  boldly"  too,  "  the  Lord  is  my  helper."  "  The 
Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation ;  whom 
shall  I  fear?  The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my 
life ;  of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid  !  Though  an 
host  should  encamp  against  me,  my  heart  shall 
not  fear  :  though  war  should  rise  against  me, 
in  this  will  I  be  confident." 

II.  Such  God  is  ;  and  what  does  He  give  ] 
"  Grace  and  glory." — The  meaning,  the 
importance,  the  dependence,  the  union  of  these 
blessings,  deserve  our  attention. 

And  what  is  grace?  It  is  the  favourite 
word  of  Inspiration :  and  here,  as  in  many 
other  parts  of  Scripture,  it  intends  Divine  as- 
sistance and  influence,  springing  from  the  free 
favour  of  God.  It  is  often  expressed  plurally : 
we  hear  of  the  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  and 
some  speak  of  them,  as  if  they  were  so  many 
little,  separate,  conscious  agents,  respectively 
stationed  in  the  soul :  whereas  it  is  one  grand 
agency,  restoring  man  to  the  image  and  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  operating  various  ways,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  the  object.  When  it 
regards  truth,  we  call  it  faith ; — a  future  good, 
hope ; — trouble,  patience. 

And  what  is  glory  ?  It  denotes  splendour, 
fame,  excellency  displayed ;  and  the  sacred 
writers  apply  it  by  way  of  distinction  to  the 
transcendent  dignity  and  sublime  happiness 
reserved  in  heaven  for  the  righteous.  "  Thou 
shalt  guide  me  by  thy  counsel,  and  afterward 
receive  me  to  glory." — "  I  reckon  that  the 
sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy 
to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be 
revealed  in  us." — "  When  he  who  is  our  life 
shall  appear,  then  shall  we  also  appear  with 
him  in  glory." 

These  blessings  are  absolutely  essential  to 
our  welfare  :  this  the  Christian  acknowledges. 
From  the  beginningofhis  religious  course,  he 
has  been  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  divine 
grace,  and  his  conviction  grows  with  his  days. 
He  feels  himself  wholly  unequal  to  the  work 
he  has  to  do,  the  race  he  has  to  run,  the  war- 
fare he  has  to  accomplish.  Nor  can  he  live 
upon  the  grace  which  he  has  received :  "  his 
strength"  must  be  "  renewed ;"  he  must  re- 
ceive "the  continual  supply  of  the  Spirit  of 
Jesus  Christ."  From  the  nature  of  his  dispo- 
sition, he  desires  more  grace ;  from  the  na- 
ture of  his  condition,  he  needs  more.  He 
wants  grace  to  sustain  him  in  his  troubles. 
He  wants  grace  to  subdue  his  corruptions, 
and  to  sanctify  his  tempers.  He  wants  grace 
to  preserve  him  "  in  the  hour  of  temptation." 
He  wants  grace  to  quicken  his  languid  affec- 
tions, "  for  his  soul  cleaveth  to  the  dust." 
He  wants  grace  to  enlarge  his  experience,  to 
render  him  useful  to  others,  to  qualify  him  for 
the  various  offices  and  relations  of  life,  to 
"  hold  on  his  way,"  to  "endure  to  the  end;" 
and,  oh  !  what  grace  does  he  want,  to  enable 


SERMON  XI. 


69 


him  to  say,  when  lie  looks  forward,  "  Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  for  thou  art  with 
me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me  !" — 
Rejoice,  O  Christian  !  from  the  throne  of  God 
you  shall  "  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need."  The  "  God  of  all 
grace"  invites  you  near;  "ask,  and  ye  shall 
receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full." — My 
grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,  for  my  strength  is 
made  perfect  in  weakness." 

"  The  Lord  will  give  grace :"  and  thus  the 
promise  provides  for  the  believer  while  in  this 
world-  But  he  is  not  to  live  here  always; 
this  is  only  the  beginning  of  his  existence  : 
before  him  lies  an  opening  eternity.  And 
here  the  promise  meets  him  with  "  everlasting 
consolation,"  and  assures  him  of  "glory."  He 
knows  that  when  his  wanderings  are  ended, 
"  he  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;"  that, 
after  a  few  more  painful  struggles,  he  shall 
wear  "the  crown  of  life  ;"  that,  as  soon  as 
"  the  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  is  dis- 
solved, he  shall  have  a  building  of  God,  a 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens."  Of  this  "glory"  we  can  know 
but  very  little,  till  we  shall  hear  the  voice 
saying,  "  Come  and  see."  But  this  circum- 
stance wonderfully  magnifies  it ;  for  what 
must  be  implied  in  a  felicity  which  surpasses 
all  description,  all  conception,  and  which  is 
hidden  rather  than  unfolded  by  all  the  grand 
imagery  employed  to  express  it ! — But  we 
have  some  intimations  which  serve  to  awaken 
our  desires,  to  elevate  our  hopes,  and  to  solace 
our  minds,  in  all  the  difficulties  of  life.  It  is 
a  pleasing  thought,  that  "  there  remaineth  a 
rest  for  the  people  of  God ;" — that  "  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  our  eyes ;" — that 
"  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow, 
nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more 
pain  ;" — that  we  shall  "  join  the  general  as- 
sembly and  church  of  the  first-born,  whose 
names  are  written  in  heaven ;" — that 

"  There  we  shall  see  his  face, 

And  NEVER,  NEVER  sill  — 

that  he  will  "shew  us  the  path  of  life,"  and 
bring  us  into  "  his  presence,  where  there  is 
fulness  of  joy,"  and  to  his  "  right  hand,  where 
there  are  pleasures  for  evermore." — "  It  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  this  wc 
know,  that  when  he  shall  appear  we  shall 
be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 

Again :  These  blessings  may  be  consider- 
ed in  their  order.  Grace  stands  before  glory  ; 
and  though  God  gives  both,  irrespective  of  any 
meritorious  worthiness  in  the  recipients,  he 
never  gives  glory  till  he  has  given  grace. 
We  wish  this  to  be  observed,  because  the  ge- 
nerality of  people  would  pass  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  glory  without  submitting  to  the  laws 
of  grace.  But  such  a  hope  is  fiilse  and  absurd. 
Thus  stands  the  purpose  of  God:  "Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God ;" 


"  Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord ;"  "  Except  a  man  he  born  a<fain,  he 
i'\nmit  see  the  kingdom  ofGod."  And  hence 
you  perceive  that  it  is  not  only  forbidden,  but 
impossible'.  Indeed  if  there  were  no  law  to 
exclude  the  unsanctified  sinner  from  glory,  he 
would  necessarily  remain  miserable.  Sin  is 
hell.  His  disposition  would  destroy  all  the 
happiness  of  heaven  :  the  service  and  the  joy 
would  only  disgust  and  torment  the  mind. 
God  cannot  make  us  happy  with  himself,  till 
he  has  made  us  holy  like  himself.  "  What 
fellowship  hath  righteousness  with  unrigh- 
teousness ?  and  what  communion  hath  light 
with  darkness]" 

We  may  also  observe  the  connexion  of 
these  blessings.  They  are  inseparable : 
where  the  Lord  has  given  grace,  he  will 
certainly  give  glory.  And  therefore,  my 
dear  hearers,  the  grand  question  is,  whether 
you  have  grace  !  Decide  this  by  its  influences 
and  effects,  as  they  are  marked  in  the  Scrip- 
tures— by  loathing  sin;  by  hungering  and 
thirsting  after  righteousness ;  by  acceding  to 
the  terms  of  discipleship, — denying  yourselves, 
taking  up  ypur  cross,  and  following  the 
Saviour  ;  by  your  love  to  the  ordinances,  the 
word,  and  the  people  of  God  ;  by  your  dead- 
ness  to  the  world,  and  having  your  conversa- 
tion in  heaven. — Thus  ascertain  the  reality  of 
your  grace,  and  "  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory 
of  God ;"  "  being  confident  of  this  very  thing, 
that  he  who  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  you, 
will  perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ." 
— Did  I  say,  where  there  is  grace,  there  will 
be  glory  1  I  go  further — there  is  glory  :  "  the 
Spirit  of  glory  resteth  upon  them."  They  are 
"  changed  from  glory  to  glory."  They  "  re- 
joice with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory." 
— "  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God,  hath 
everlasting  life."  He  has  more  than  the 
promise — he  has  a  part  of  heaven :  he  has 
"  the  earnest  of  his  inheritance ;"  he  has  "  the 
first-fruits  of  the  Spirit" — the  same  in  kind, 
though  not  in  degree,  with  the  whole' harvest. 
Grace  is  glory  in  the  bud,  and  glory  is  grace 
matured.  Grace  is  the  lowest  degree  of  glory, 
and  glory  is  only  the  highestdegree  of  grace. 
This  He  gives ; 

III.  And  what  does  He  withhold  1  "No 
good  thing." — O  how  tii  1 1  and  comprehen- 
sive is  the  language  of  promise!  The  Holy 
Ghost,  in  framing  it,  seems  to  anticipate  all 
the  objections  of  our  suspicious  hearts.  It  was 
much  to  tell  us,  God  was  "  a  sun  and  shield  :" 
but  he  enlarges,  and  adds,  "  The  Lord  will 
give  grace  and  glory."  And  surely  this  will 
suffice.  No,  my  brethren  ;  there  is  something 
still  behind — the  condition  of  "the  life  which 
we  now  live  in  the  flesh."  This  frequently 
presses  upon  the  mind,  and  perplexes,  and 
troubles  the  people  of  God.  They  have  bo- 
dies: they  have  families:  they  are  command- 
ed to  "  provide  things  honest  in  the  sight  of 
all  men."    Where  is  the  man  who  never 


70 


SERMON  Xf. 


thought  within  himself,  "If I  make  religion 
my  chief  concern,  and  sacrifice  whatever  it 
requires,  shall  I  not  injure  my  temporal  cir- 
cumstances?" Where  is  the  man,  whose  li- 
berality was  never  checked,  and  whose  confi- 
dence was  never  weakened,  by  slender  means 
of  subsistence  !  Where  is  the  man,  who,  with 
increasing  demands  from  a  numerous  offspring, 
never  with  anxiety  asked,  "  What  shall  they 
eat,  and  what  shall  they  drink ;  and  where- 
withal shall  they  be  clothed  !" — "  He  knoweth 
our  frame,  and  remembereth  that  we  are  dust :" 
He  stoops  to  our  weaknesses ;  and  saves  us 
the  pain  and  shame  of  telling  him  our  unwor- 
thy fears,  by  giving  us  promises  which  effec- 
tually provide  against  them — "  Your  heavenly 
Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  all  these 
things."  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  "No  good  thing 
will  he  withhold  from  them  that  walk  upright- 
ly."— Let  us  take  three  views  of  this  exten- 
sive promise. 

First,  Behold  in  it  the  grandeur  of  his 
possessions.  He  who  engages  to  withhold  no 
good  thing,  must  have  all  good  things  at  his 
disposal.  And,  lo !  "  he  is  able  to  do  for  us 
exceedingly  abundantly  above  all  that  we  ask 
or  think."  "  Thine,  O  Lord,  is  the  greatness, 
and  the  power,  and  the  glory,  and  the  victory, 
and  the  majesty :  for  all  that  is  in  the  heaven 
and  in  the  earth  is  thine  :  thine  is  the  kingdom, 
O  Lord,  and  thou  art  exalted  as  head  above 
all.  Both  riches  and  honour  come  from  thee, 
and  thou  reignest  over  all ;  and  in  thine  hand 
it  is  to  make  great,  and  to  give  strength  un- 
to all."  "  The  silver  and  the  gold  are  thine." 
"  Every  beast  of  the  forest  is  thine,  and  the 
cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills."  "  The  earth  is 
the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness  thereof ;  the  world, 
and  they  that  dwell  therein" — And  what  is 
this  lower  world  ?  An  inconsiderable  province 
of  his  empire — "  Lift  up  your  eyes  on  high, 
and  behold,  who  hath  created  these  things; 
that  bringeth  out  their  host  by  number :  he 
calleth  them  all  by  names,  by  the  greatness 
of  his  might,  for  that  he  is  strong  in  power, 
not  one  failing."  His  dominion  is  universal ; 
his  resources  boundless  ;  his  possessions  infi- 
nite— Can  he  be  poor,  whose  Father  is  so 
rich? 

Secondly,  Behold  in  this  promise  the  won- 
ders of  his  liberality.  All  earthly  benefactors 
shrink  from  a  comparison  with  him.  He  acts 
by  no  ordinary  rule  of  bounty,  by  no  human 
standard  of  beneficence.  "  As  the  heavens 
are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  his  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  his  thoughts  than 
your  thoughts."  "  O  how  great  is  the  good- 
ness which  thou  hast  laid  up  for  them  that  fear 
thee,  which  thou  hast  wrought  for  them  that 
trust  in  thee  before  the  sons  of  men  !" — "  The 
same  Lord  over  all  is  rich  unto  all  that  call  up- 
on him." — "  My  God  shall  supply  all  your 
need,  according  to  his  riches  in  glory  by 


Christ  Jesus."—"  No  good  thing  will  he  with- 
hold." 

Thirdly,  Behold  in  this  promise  the  wisdom 
of  his  dispensations.  He  has  qualified  his  en- 
gagement, and  regulated  our  hope,  by  the 
goodness  of  the  things  insured.  Instead  of 
regretting  this  condition,  the  Christian  re- 
joices in  it;  it  secures  his  happiness.  Had 
God  engaged  to  indulge  him  in  all  these 
things,  whether  they  were  good  for  him  or 
evil,  it  would  have  been  a  threatening,  not  a 
promise.  He  now  sees  the  providence  of  God 
choosing  his  inheritance  for  him,  managing 
all  his  affairs,  and  equally  designing  bis  wel- 
fare when  it  gives,  or  when  it  withholds. 

For  there  is  often  a  great  difference  be- 
tween what  is  pleasing,  and  what  is  profitable. 
Hence  the  apostle  tells  us,  "No  chastening 
for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  griev- 
ous: nevertheless  afterward  it  yieldeth  the 
peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them 
which  are  exercised  thereby."  And  David 
could  say,  "  It  is  good  for  me  that  I  have  been 
afflicted."  If  health,  if  honour,  if  riches  will 
be  good  for  us,  they  are  secured  ;  if  indigence, 
if  obscurity,  if  sickness  will  conduce  to  our 
advantage,  they  will  not  be  denied:  for 
"  no  good  thing"  will  He  withhold.  Of  all 
this  he  is  the  infallible  Judge.  Let  us  then 
drop  not  only  our  murmuring,  but  our  anxie- 
ty :  let  us  "cast  all  our  care  upon  Him  who 
careth  for  us ;"  let  us  be  satisfied  that  "  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God ;"  and  ever  remember  the  word  upon 
which  he  has  caused  us  to  hope — "  the  young 
lions  may  lack  and  suffer  hunger ;  but  they 
that  seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want  any  good 
thing."  And, 

IV.  Whom  does  God  regard  in  all  these  ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  promises'! — 
"  Them  that  walk  uprightly."  While,  by 
this  single  expression,  David  takes  down  the 
confidence  of  the  presumptuous,  he  encourages 
the  hope  of  the  real  Christian,  who,  under  all 
the  imperfections  which  make  him  groan, 
knows  that  his  desire  is  to  the  Lord,  "  and  to 
the  remembrance  of  his  name."  For  the  cha- 
racter is  not  sinless :  he  has  "  not  attained," 
he  is  "not  already  perfect" — "but  this  one 
thing"  he  does:  "forgetting  those  things 
which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto 
those  things  which  are  before,"  he  "  presses 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  his  high  call- 
ing of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  He  is  "  an  Isra- 
elite indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile."  His  sin- 
cerity may  be  viewed  in  reference  to  himself; 
to  others ;  and  to  God. 

He  walks  uprightly,  with  regard  to  himself. 
In  all  his  dealings  with  his  own  soul,  he  guards 
against  self-deception  and  flattery.  He  dreads 
a  false  peace;  he  wishes  to  free  his  mind  from 
every  bias  in  his  own  favour,  and  to  survey 
impartially  his  state*  and  character.  He  does 
not  shut  his  eyes  against  the  evidence  of  of- 
fensive truth ;  nor  hold  back,  or  divert  his  un- 


SERMON  XII. 


71 


derstanding  from  those  inquiries  which  may 
issue  in  mortifying  and  painful  convictions. 
He  comes  to  the  light.  He  suspects,  and  exa- 
mines himself  He  reads,  and  compares,  and 
judges  himself  again ;  again  he  investigates 
himself,  and  kneels,  and  prays,  "  Search  me, 
O  God,  and  know  my  heart:  try  me,  and 
know  my  thoughts :  and  see  if  there  be  any 
wicked  way  in  me ;  and  lead  me  in  the  way 
everlasting." 

He  walks  uprightly,  with  regard  to  God. 
It  is  an  awful  consideration,  that  "  with  him 
we  have  to  do"  in  all  our  religious  exercises. 
In  singing,  we  profess  to  praise  him ;  in 
prayer,  we  profess  to  seek  him ;  in  hearing 
his  word,  we  profess  to  obey  him — And  "  God 
is  not  mocked."  He  distinguishes  between  ap- 
pearance and  reality.  And,  in  the  Christian 
indeed,  there  is  something  more  than  pre- 
tence :  he  does  not  "  draw  nigh  to  God  with 
his  mouth,  and  honour  him  with  his  lips, 
while  his  heart  is  far  from  him."  He  worships 
God  in  "spirit  and  in  truth."  His  external 
service  arises  from  inward  principle.  Hence 
he  makes  conscience  of  private  duties.  He  is 
the  same  in  his  family,  as  in  the  temple. 
He  is  the  same  in  prosperity,  as  in  adversity. 
The  simple  and  pure  regard  which  he  has  to 
the  will  and  the  glory  of  God,  keeps  him  from 
partiality  in  religion :  there  is  no  sin  which 
he  cherishes ;  there  is  no  duty  which  he  dis- 
likes :  he  esteems  all  the  divine  precepts 
concerning  all  things  to  be  right,  and  he 
hates  every  false  way. 

He  walks  uprightly,  with  regard  to  men. 
His  transactions  with  his  fellow-creatures  are 
distinguished  by  candour,  openness,  honesty, 
punctuality.  His  professions  are  the  sure 
pledges  of  his  designs.  What  he  promises, 
he  performs.  He  does  not  consider  his  tongue 
as  given  him  to  deceive.  He  hates  and  ab- 
hors lying.  He  shuns  adulation ;  he  gives 
not  flattering  titles  to  any.  He  does  not  suf- 
fer sin  upon  his  neighbour:  " faithful  are  the 
wounds  of"  this  "friend."  He  does  not  abound 
in  ceremony  :  it  is  too  deceitful  an  article  for 
him  to  traffic  with.  He  is  not  an  actor  on  a 
stage:  he  is  not  a.  rotten  sepulchre,  over 
which  stands  a  whitewashed  tomb — He  is 
what  he  appears  to  be. 

Such  is  the  character  of  the  righteous: 
these  are  their  privileges.  "For  the  Lord 
God  is  a  sun  and  shield :  the  Lord  will  give 
grace  and  glory;  and  no  good  thing  will  he 
withhold  from  them  that  walk  uprightly" — 
Hence  we  learn  how  exceedingly  we  are 
mistaken,  if  we  view  religion  as  unfriendly  to 
our  happiness.  "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto 
all  things;  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come."  It  is  the 
"one  thing  needful ;"  and  if  we  make  light  of 
it,  whatever  be  the  prize  we  pursue,  we  are 
"  observing  lying  vanities,  and  forsaking  our 
own  mercies." — 

Hence  we  expostulate.   Can  the  service  of 


sin,  or  the  pursuits  of  the  world,  afford  you 
advantages  like  these?  Can  earthly  things, 
even  in  their  abundance,  heal  a  wounded  con- 
science, sustain  you  under  the  troubles  of 
life,  take  away  the  sting  of  death,  and  raise  you 
above  the  dread  of  eternity'!  What  have  they 
done  for  you  already  ?  You  have  tried  their 
efficacy — are  you  happy?  Why  will  you  re- 
fuse a  fresh  proposal,  sanctioned  by  the  ex- 
perience of  millions,  and  the  success  of  all  who 
have  tried  it?  "Acquaint  now  thyself  with 
Him,  and  be  at  peace;  thereby  good  shall 
come  unto  thee."  "Have  the  workers  of  ini- 
quity no  knowledge?"  "Wherefore  do  ye 
spend  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and 
your  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not  ? 
Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that 
which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself 
in  fatness."  "  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto 
m'e ;  hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live ;  and  I 
will  make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  you, 
even  the  sure  mercies  of  David." — 

We  congratulate  others.  "All  hail,  ye 
highly  favoured  of  the  Lord."  "  Happy  art 
thou,  O  Israel :  who  is  like  unto  thee,  0  peo- 
ple saved  by  the  Lord,  the  shield  of  thy  help, 
and  who  is  the  sword  of  thy  excellency  !  and 
thine  enemies  shall  be  found  liars  unto  thee ; 
and  thou  shalt  tread  upon  their  high  places." 
"  Blessed  is  the  people  that  is  in  such  a  case  ! 
yea,  happy  is  that  people  whose  God  is  the 
Lord."— 

"  We  have  heard,  O  God,  that  thou  hast  a 
people  upon  earth  distinguished  by  innumera- 
ble and  inestimable  privileges.  We  would 
not  be  satisfied  with  knowing  and  admiring 
their  portion.  Weary  of  the  world,  which 
has  yielded  us  nothing  but  vanity  and  vexa- 
tion of  spirit,  we  would  seek  our  inheritance 
among  them  that  are  sanctified  by  faith  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus.  We  would  take  hold  of 
the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew,  saying,  I  will 
go  with  you,  for  I  have  heard  that  God  is 
with  you.  I  am  a  companion  of  all  them  that 
fear  thee,  of  them  that  keep  thy  precepts. 
Look  thou  upon  me,  and  be  merciful  unto  me, 
as  thou  usest  to  do  unto  those  that  love  thy 
name.  Remember  me,  O  Lord,  with  the  fa- 
vour that  thou  bearest  unto  thy  people;  O 
visit  me  with  thy  salvation :  that  I  may  see 
the  good  of  thy  chosen,  that  I  may  rejoice  in 
the  gladness  of  thy  nation,  that  I  may  glory 
with  thine  inheritance."  May  God  inspire  us 
with  these  sentiments !  Amen. 


SERMON  XII. 


THE  CONDITION  OF  CHRISTIANS  IN 
THE  WORLD. 

I  pray  not  that  llioit  shouldest  take  them  out  of 
the  -world,  but  thai  thou  shouldest  keep  them 
from  the  evil. — St.  John,  xvii.  15. 
These  words  were  spoken  by  our  Saviour, 

on  a  very  memorable  occasion — an  "  hour" 


SERMON  m 


unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  time. — "  Having 
loved  his  own  which  were  in  the  world,  he 
loved  them  unto  the  end."  While  lie  was 
with  them,  he  had  withheld  no  proof  of  his 
kindness  and  care.  He  gave  them  free  access 
to  his  presence,  he  relieved  their  complaints, 
he  removed  their  doubts,  he  bore  with  their 
infirmities.  Such  an  intercouse  of  sacred 
friendship  had  endeared  him  to  their  affections, 
and  rendered  the  prospect  of  separation  inex- 
pressibly painful. — When  the  venerable  Sa- 
muel died,  "all  the  Israelites  were  gathered 
together,  and  lamented  him." — When  the 
amiable  friend  of  David  fell  "on  his  high 
places,"  the  bleeding  survivor  said,  "I  am 
distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan : 
very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  to  me:  thy 
love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of 
women." — When  Elisha  beheld  the  reformer 
Elijah  ascending,  "  He  cried,  My  father,  rny 
father  !  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horse- 
men thereof." — The  case  of  the  disciples  was 
more  peculiarly  afflictive ;  and  "  sorrow  filled 
their  hearts." — Our  Saviour  was  never  de- 
prived of  self-possession :  in  every  state,  he  had 
the  full  command  of  his  powers ;  and  even  in 
the  immediate  view  of  his  tremendous  sufier- 
ings,  he  does  not  forget  any  one  circumstance 
that  claims  his  attention.  He  thinks  more  of 
his  disciples  than  of  himself:  he  enters  into 
their  feelings — they  were  to  remain  behind, 
poor  and  despised :  "  as  sheep  among  wolves ;" 
as  passengers  in  a  vessel  "  tossed  by  the 
waves" — He  will  not  leave  them  "  comfort- 
less." On  the  evening  before  his  crucifixion, 
and  a  few  moments  before  his  agony,  by  the 
gate  of  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  surround- 
ed with  his  family,  "  he  lifts  up  his  eyes  to 
heaven,"  and  commends  them  into  the  hands 
of  his  "  Father  and  our  Father,  his  God  and 
our  God." 

Do  not  say,  my  fellow-christians,  this  prayer 
was  for  the  apostles — it  was  for  them  prima- 
rily, but  not  exclusively.  Hear  his  own 
words :  "  Neither  pray  I  tor  these  alone,  but 
for  them  also  which  shall  believe  on  me 
through  their  word."  Thus  it  extends  to 
all  the  followers  of  our  Lord  in  every  age,  in 
every  place.  He  prays  therefore  for  you,  even 
for  you  ;  and  this  is  his  language :  "  I  pray 
not  that  thou  shouldest  take  them  out  of  the 
world,  but  that  thou  shouldest  keep  them  from 
the  evil." 

From  these  words  the  following  instructions 
may  be  derived.  I.  It  is  the  province  of 
God  to  take  us  out  of  the  world.  II. 
This  world  is  a  proper  situation  for  the 
righteous  to  live  in  for  a  season.  Ill: 
There  is  evil  in  the  world,  to  which 
they  are  exposed,  and  by  which  they  may 
be  injured.  IV.  The  divine  protection  is 
essential  to  their  security.  V.  It  is  en- 
couraging to  remember  that  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  prays  for  our  preservation. 


I.  It  is  the  province  of  God  to  take  us 
out  of  the  world. 

It  is  the  obvious  design  of  the  Scripture  to 
bring  the  mind  into  a  pious  frame,  by  induc- 
ing us  to  acknowledge  God  in  all  our  ways; 
to  apprehend  him  in  every  occurrence ;  to 
adore  him  in  the  field,  as  well  as  in  the  temple ; 
to  hold  communion  with  him  in  his  works  as 
well  as  in  his  word,  in  his  dispensations  as 
well  as  in  his  ordinances.  While  our  minds 
are  perplexed  and  discomposed  by  beholding 
the  mass  of  human  affairs,  and  the  perpetual 
fluctuations  of  worldly  things ;  this  blessed 
book  lends  us  a  principle,  which  when  appli- 
ed reduces  the  confusion  to  order ;  explains 
the  mystery ;  and  calms  the  inquirer.  It 
teaches  us  that  nothing  occurs  by  chance;  it 
shews  us  the  Supreme  Being  superintending 
the  whole,  "  seeing  the  end  from  the  begin- 
ning;" "  working  all  things  after  the  counsel 
of  his  own  will;"  advancing  towards  the  exe- 
cution of  purposes  worthy  of  himself,  with 
steady,  majestic  steps ;  never  turning  aside ; 
never  too  precipitate ;  never  too  slow.  We 
see  Divine  Providence  fixing  "  the  bounds  of 
our  habitation,"  and  presiding  over  all  the  cir- 
cumstances of  our  birth,  and  our  death.  In 
our  appointed  time  we  appear ;  in  the  places 
designed  for  us  we  are  fixed.  When  we  have 
finished  our  course,  and  ended  our  work,  "  he 
says,  Return,  ye  children  of  men:"  and  it  is 
not  in  the  power  of  enemies  to  accelerate,  or 
of  friends  to  retard  the  period  of  our  departure. 
"  Is  there  not  an  appointed  time  to  man  upon 
earth  ]  Are  not  his  days  also  like  the  days  of 
an  hireling'!" — "His  days  are  determined: 
the  number  of  his  months  are  with  th'ee  :  thou 
hast  appointed  his  bounds  that  he  cannot  pass." 
— "  In  his  hand  thy  breath  is,  and  his  are  all 
thy  ways."  "  The  righteous  and  the  wise, 
and  their  works,  are  in  the  hand  of  God." 
Does  he  "  number  the  hairs  of  your  head," 
and  not  the  years  of  your  pilgrimage  1  Does 
"  not  a  sparrow  fall  to  the  ground  without  your 
heavenly  Father!"  and  are  ye  not  "of  more 
value  than  many  sparrows]" 

This  world,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  was 
never  designed  fully  to  accomplish  the  pur- 
pose of  God  in  the  original  creation  of  man. 
It  was  to  precede  a  nobler  state ;  and  the  mode 
of  transition  from  glory  to  glory,  would  have 
been  easy  and  delightful.  But  the  passage  is 
now  become  rough  and  dismaying.  "  By  one 
man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death 
by  sin  ;  and  so  death  hath  passed  upon  all  men, 
because  all  have  sinned."  It  is  not  pleasing 
to  human  nature,  to  think  of  being  "  taken 
out  of"  these  bodies  in  which  we  have  taber- 
nacled ;  "  out  of"  these  houses  in  which  we 
have  lived ;  "  out  of  these  circles  in  which 
we  have  moved ;  "  out  of"  this  "  world,"  in 
which  we  were  born,  and  to  which  we  have 
been  so  long  accustomed — to  be  laid  hold  of, 
and  detached  from  all  we  now  enjoy,  by  the 


SERMON  XII. 


7:5 


messengers  of  "  the  king  of  terrors ;"  to  be 
divided ;  to  lie  down  and  putrify  ;  to  enter  a 
new  and  untried  world.  But  irksome  as  the 
consideration  may  be,  the  Christian  cannot 
banish  it  from  his  thoughts :  he  endeavours, 
especially  in  particular  circumstances,  to  ren- 
der it  familiar;  and  there  are  things  which 
have  a  tendency  to  encourage  his  mind  in  the 
contemplation  of  it. — The  enemy  is  disarmed 
of  his  sting.  While  "  walking  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,"  God  will  be 
with  him. — The  event  is  entirely  under  the 
controling  influence  of  his  heavenly  Father. 
How  pleasing  is  the  reflection,  "  Well ;  my 
times  are  in  his  hand.  On  him  depend  the 
occurrences  of  my  history,  and  the  duration  of 
my  life.  He  is  best  qualified  to  judge  of  the 
scenes  through  which  lam  to  pass,  and  ofthe 
manner  in  which  I  am  to  leave  this  world — 
whether  it  be  sudden,  or  lingering ;  by  acci- 
dent, or  disease ;  alone,  or  surrounded  with 
friends ;  in  youth,  or  in  age. — It  is  the  Lord ; 
let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good.  Have  I 
been  bereaved  of  beloved  relations,  and  useful 
connexions  ? — My  soul  hath  it  still  in  remem- 
brance— but  were  they  not  Ids'!  He  had  a 
right  to  do  what  he  would  with  his  own.  He 
came  and  took  them  away,  not  as  a  thief,  but 
as  a  proprietor.  He  employed  in  the  seizure 
not  only  power,  but  wisdom  and  kindness. 
What  I  know  not  now,  I  shall  know  hereafter. 
Behold,  he  taketh  away;  who  can  hinder 
him?  Who  will  say  unto  him,  What  doest 
thou?  I  was  dumb,  I  opened  not  my  mouth, 
because  thou  didst  it.  He  is  the  rock,  his 
work  is  perfect;  for  all  his  ways  are  judg- 
ment: a  God  of  truth  and  without  iniquity, 
just  and  right  is  he." 

II.    This  world  is  a  proper  situation 

FOR  THE  DISCIPLES  OF  JeSUS  TO  CONTINUE  IN 

for  a  season. — It  is  probable,  that  if  our  weak 
reason  were  allowed  to  speculate  concerning 
the  state  ofthe  righteous,  it  would  decide  on 
the  propriety  of  raising  them  to  the  high  places 
ofthe  earth;  of  delivering  them  from  all  tri- 
bulation ;  of  withholding  from  them  no  joy — 
or  rather,  of  calling  them  away  from  this  re- 
gion of  sin,  from  this  vale  of  tears,  from  this 
miserable  exile,  to  "  sit  down  with  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
The  Scripture  seems  to  countenance  this  no- 
tion. It  says,  "  Arise  ye,  and  depart ;  for  this 
is  not  your  rest,  because  it  is  polluted."  It 
commands  us  "  not  to  be  unequally  yoked  to- 
gether with  unbelievers."  It  asks,  "  What 
fellowship  hath  righteousness  with  unrigh- 
teousness ?  And  what  communion  hath  light 
with  darkness  ?  And  what  concord  hath  Christ 
with  Belial  ?  Or  what  part  hath  he  that  be- 
lieveth  with  an  infidel  ?M  How  perfectly  has 
the  Creator  arranged  every  thing  in  the  uni- 
verse !  How  wisely  has  he  separated  the  day 
and  the  night,  the  dry  land  and  the  sea,  the 
various  classes  of  beasts  and  birds !  And  will 
he  join  the  living  and  the  dead  ?  Will  he  min- 
is 7 


gle  error  and  truth?  virtue  and  vice?  Will 
lie  confound  the  pious  with  the  wicked  ?  Yes  ; 
this  world,  so  opposite  to  their  heavenly  na- 
ture, so  unsuitable  to  their  desires,  so  incapa- 
ble of  affording  them  happiness,  while  from 
every  quarter  it  wounds  and  vexes  ;  forcing 
from  them  many  a  sigh,  "  Woe  is  me,  that  I 
sojourn  in  Mesech !"  "  O  that  I  had  wings  like 
a  dove  !  for  then  I  would  fly  away,  and  be  at 
rest;  I  would  hasten  my  escape  from  the 
stormy  wind  and  tempest — this  world  is  to 
retain  them  year  after  year ;  and  our  Saviour 
does  not  pray  to  take  them  out  of  it. 

First,  From  their  remaining  here,  the  wick- 
ed derive  innumerable  advantages.  They 
have  instances  of  religion  before  them,  which 
encourage  while  they  condemn.  By  these 
they  learn  that  godliness  is  practicable,  and 
profitable.  They  see  persons  of  the  same  pas- 
sions, of  the  same  age,  of  the  same  occupations 
with  themselves,  walking  in  the  paths  of  righ- 
teousness ;  and,  much  oftener  than  we  ima- 
gine, the  portion  ofthe  righteous  forming  a  con- 
trast with  their  own  unhappy  circumstances, 
leads  them  to  exclaim,  "How  goodly  are 
thy  tents,  O  Jacob !  and  thy  tabernacles,  O  Is- 
rael !  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his."  It  is  in  the 
very  nature  of  religion  to  render  Christians 
active  in  doing  good.  They  are  often  the 
means  of  "  saving  a  soul  from  death,  and  of 
hiding  a  multitude  of  sins."  Sometimes  a  few 
individuals  have  changed  the  moral  face  of  a 
whole  neighbourhood  ;  and  the  language  of 
prophecy  has  been  realized — "  the  wilderness 
and  the  solitary  place  shall  be  made  glad  for 
them,  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice  and  blossom 
as  the  rose." 

The  disorders  which  prevail  in  the  world 
are  great;  but  the  state  of  society  would  be 
far  worse,  not  to  say  intolerable,  were  the 
righteous  to  be  withdrawn,  and  the  licentious- 
ness of  sinners  to  be  no  longer  repressed,  or 
counteracted  by  their  rebuke,  their  example, 
and  their  influence.    They  "  are  the  salt  of 
the  earth ;"  they  are  "  the  light  of  the  world." 
They  are  blessings  in  the  families,  cities,  coun- 
tries, in  which  they  reside.    They  have  fre- 
quently, by  their  prayers,  obtained  deliveran- 
ces for  those  among  whom  they  live.  They 
have  "stood  in  the  breach,"  and  held  back  the 
invading  judgments  of  the  Almighty.  "Ex- 
cept the  Lord  of  Hosts  had  left  unto  us  a  very 
small  remnant,  we  should  have  been  as  Sodom, 
and  we  should  have  been  like  unto  Gomor- 
rah."   While  a  father  sees  his  children  stand- 
ing intermixed  with  his  foes,  he  levels  not  his 
arrows :  the  one  is  preserved  for  the  sake  of 
the  other.    When  God  has  secured  his  peo- 
ple, the  wicked  become  the  fair  mark  of  his 
indignation  ;  the  vials  of  his  wrath  are  poured 
down  ;  time  shall  be  no  longer ;  the  heavens 
pass  away  with  a  great  noise ;  the  earth  is 
burned  up. 

Again :   Some  reasons  are  taken  from 


74 


SERMON  XII. 


Christians  themselves.  "  We  know  that  all 
tilings  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God  :•"  and  does  not  their  situation  in  the 
world  call  forth  every  active,  every  suffering 
virtue  !  Can  there  be  any  grandeur  of  charac- 
ter, where  there  are  no  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers 3  Can  there  be  a  triumph  where  there  is 
no  warfare,  or  a  warfare  where  there  is  no 
enemy  ?  when  do  the  righteous  feel  motives 
to  keep  them  humble]  When  they  behold  in 
the  wicked  an  image  of  themselves.  When 
are  they  urged  to  gratitude  for  distinguishing 
grace !  When  they  are  reminded  by  sinners 
of  what  they  were  "  by  nature"  as  well  "  as 
others."  When  do  they  display  their  compas- 
sion, and  increase  their  benevolence  1  While 
feeding  the  hungry,  clothing  the  naked,  teach- 
ing the  ignorant,  and  endeavouring  to  rescue 
their  fellow-creatures  from  perdition.  Can 
they  exercise  divine  patience  and  forgiveness ! 
Yes,  while  they  have  an  opportunity  to  "  ren- 
der good  for  evil." 

They  can  discover  their  holy  courage, 
while  bearing  the  "  reproach  of  the  cross," 
and  enduring  "  the  defaming  of  many."  Here, 
by  the  sacrifices  they  are  called  to  make,  and 
their  readiness  to  leave  father  or  mother,  son 
or  daughter,  lands  or  life,  for  his  sake,  they 
demonstrate  the  supremacy  of  their  love  to 
the  Saviour.  Here,  their  sincerity  and  reso- 
lution appear  unsuspicious,  by  not  drawing 
back,  or  turning  aside,  when  the  world  would 
terrify  by  its  frowns,  or  allure  by  its  smiles. 
Here  we  behold  the  vigour  of  those  principles 
which  bear  sway  in  the  minds  of  the  godly. — In 
heaven  we  shall  glorify  God.  But  heaven  is  not 
a  state  of  trial.  There  sin  never  enters  :  and 
what  is  it  to  live  innocent  where  there  is  no 
temptation  1  But  to  see  evil  patterns,  and  not 
copy  them ;  to  breathe  pestilential  air,  and  not 
inhale  the  infection  ;  to  renounce  our  inclina- 
tions, and  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done  j"  to  live 
with  our  conversation  in  heaven,  when  every 
thing  conspires  to  bind  us  down  to  earth 
— here  the  Christian  honours  God,  and  here 
he  gathers  glory  in  a  manner  the  most  dis- 
tinguishing— and  all  this  is  peculiar  to  his  re- 
sidence in  this  world. 

Let  him  therefore  avail  himself  of  the  sin- 
gular opportunities  his  situation  affords ;  and 
while  he  remains  here,  let  him  labour  to  fulfil 
the  design  of  Heaven  in  his  continuance, 
both  with  regard  to  himself  and  others.  Let 
him  remember,  that  all  rash  and  eager  wishes 
for  death  are  improper ;  that  it  may  be  "  need- 
ful for  him  to  abide"  longer  "  in  the  flesh  ;" 
that  of  this  expediency  he  must  leave  God  to 
judge ;  that  His  pleasure  will  be  discovered 
by  the  event ;  that  he  will  not  be  detained  a 
moment  longer  than  is  necessary  to  accom- 
plish some  valuable  purpose ;  that,  instead  of 
indulging  in  impatience,  it  becomes  him  to 
say,  with  Job,  "  All  the  days  of  my  appointed 
time  will  1  wait  until  my  change  come." 
The  man  in  harvest,  while  bearing  "  the  bur- 


den and  heat  of  the  day,"  may  occasionally 
look  up  to  see  where  the  sun  is;  and  may 
console  himself  with  the  reflection,  "The 
evening  shades  will  by-and-by  come  on,  and 
invite  me  to  an  honourable  retreat" — but  it 
does  not  become  him  to  throw  down  his  im- 
plements, and  hasten  home  before  he  obtains 
such  a  discharge. 

As  Christians  are  to  think  of  living  for  a 
while  in  the  world,  it  is  not  unreasonable  for 
them  to  be  affected  with  its  occurrences  and 
changes.  Some  plead  for  a  kind  of  abstract- 
ed and  sublimated  devotion,  which  the  circum- 
stances they  are  placed  in  by  their  Creator 
render  equally  impracticable  and  absurd. — 
They  are  never  to  notice  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment, or  the  measures  of  administration :  war, 
or  peace ;  liberty,  or  slavery ;  plenty,  or  scar- 
city— all  is  to  be  equally  indifferent  to  them ; 
they  are  to  leave  these  carnal  and  worldly 
things  to  others.  But  have  they  not  bodies  1 
Have  they  not  families  1  Is  religion  founded 
on  the  ruins  of  humanity  1  When  a  man  be- 
comes a  Christian,  does  he  cease  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  civil  society  1  Allowing  that  he  be  not 
the  owner  of  the  ship,  but  only  a  passenger  in 
it,  has  he  nothing  to  awaken  his  concern  in 
the  voyage  1  If  he  be  only  a  traveller  towards 
a  better  country,  is  he  to  be  told,  that  because 
he  is  at  an  inn  which  he  is  soon  to  leave,  it 
should  not  excite  any  emotion  in  him,  whether 
it  be  invaded  by  robbers,  or  consumed  by  flames 
before  the  morning?  "  In  the  peace  there- 
of ye  shall  have  peace :" — and  are  not  Chris- 
tians to  "  provide  things  honest  in  the  sight  of 
all  men!"  Are  they  to  detach  themselves 
while  here  from  the  interests  of  their  fellow- 
creatures  ;  or  to  "  rejoice  with  them  that  re- 
joice, and  weep  with  them  that  weep!"  Is 
not  religion  variously  affected  by  public  trans- 
actions J  Can  a  Christian,  for  instance,  be  in- 
different to  the  cause  of  freedom,  even  on  a 
pious  principle  1  Does  not  civil  liberty  neces- 
sarily include  religious  1  and  is  it  not  neces-  # 
sary  to  the  exertions  of  ministers,  and  the 
spreading  of  the  Gospel  1 

And,  Christians,  as  the  world  is  a  station  in 
which  you  are  to  reside  for  a  season,  religion 
does  not  require  you  to  witndraw  from  society, 
to  relinquish  secular  business,  to  live  in  soli- 
tude. It  more  than  justifies  your  being  visi- 
ble, social,  active.  "  Neither  do  men  light  a 
candle,  and  put  it  under  a  bushel :  but  on  a 
candlestick ;  and  it  giveth  light  unto  all  that 
are  in  the  house.  Let  your  light  so  shine  be- 
fore men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works, 
and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
It  becomes  you,  however,  to  remember, 
III.  That  there  is  evil  in  the  world, 

TO  WHICH  YOU  ARE  EXPOSED,  AND  BY  WHICH 

you  may  be  injured.  And  what  is  this 
"  evil !"  There  is  the  evil  of  sin,  and  the  evil 
of  suffering.  It  is  not  the  latter  that  our  Sa- 
viour deprecates — "  If  any  man  will  come  af- 
ter me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 


SERMON  XII. 


75 


cross."  "In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribula- 
tion." "  Blessed  are  they  who  are  persecuted 
for  righteousness'  sake:  for  theirs  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven."  Indigence  and  affliction  are 
generally  a  soil  favourable  to  the  prosperity 
of  religion.  "By  the  sadness  of  the  counte- 
nance, the  heart  is  made  better."  Security 
from  sin  is  preferable  to  immunity  from  sor- 
row. It  is  therefore  moral  evil  from  which 
we  should  be  most  anxious  to  be  preserved. 
And  by  this  you  are  perpetually  endangered 
while  in  the  world. 

The  people  of  the  world  are  enemies  to  re- 
ligion. How  pernicious  are  their  maxims, 
their  errors,  their  number,  their  example, 
their  influence !  How  ensnaring  are  their 
smiles,  and  how  intimidating  their  frowns ! 
How  powerful  are  the  fear  of  censure,  and  the 
love  of  praise  !  The  things  of  the  world  are 
prejudicial  to  a  life  of  godliness.  Every  sta- 
tion, every  condition,  hides  innumerable  temp- 
tations. It  has  been  questioned,  whether  pros- 
perity or  adversity  be  the  more  hazardous. 
Affluence  flatters  our  pride,  and  nourishes  the 
passions.  It  has  a  tendency  to  draw  off"  our 
dependence  from  Divine  Providence.  It  fur- 
nishes us  with  substitutes  for  the  consolations 
of  the  Gospel ;  and  as  to  its  duties,  it  multi- 
plies diversions,  excuses,  and  hindrances.  Ma- 
ny a  man  has  parted  with  his  religion  in  walk- 
ing from  a  cottage  to  a  mansion.  "  They  that 
will  be  rich,  fall  into  temptation,  and  a  snare, 
and  into  many  foolish  and  hurtful  lusts,  which 
drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdition.  For 
the  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil  : 
which  while  some  coveted  after,  they  have 
erred  from  the  faith,  and  pierced  themselves 
through  with  many  sorrows." 

But  indigence  has  its  perils;  hence  the 
prayer  of  wisdom  has  always  been,  "  Give  me 
neither  poverty  nor  riches  ;  feed  mc  with  food 
convenient  for  me :  lest  1  be  full,  and  deny 
thee,  and  say,  Who  is  the  Lord  ?  or  lest  I  be 
poor,  and  steal,  and  take  the  name  of  my  God 
in  vain."  Sensible  things  press  upon  the 
body,  and  the  body  affects  the  mind.  The 
world  has  the  advantage  of  neighbourhood 
and  constant  intercourse.  It  presents  itself 
to  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  touch.  It  corresponds 
with  a  party  within,  which  excites  us  to  wel- 
come every  proposal  it  brings.  The  world 
does  not  ask  us  to  deny,  but  to  please  our- 
selves ;  not  to  row  against  the  current,  but  to 
sit  down  in  the  boat,  and  leave  it  to  the  stream. 
When  the  world  knocks,  "  the  spirit  of 
the  world"  is  ready  to  open:  and  when 
temptations  to  vanity  meet  with  vain  hearts, 
and  temptations  to  folly  meet  with  foolish 
hearts,  the  success  is  more  than  probable. 
In  the  seduction  of  mankind,  the  world  has 
a  marvellous  diversity  of  means :  every  dis- 
position is  suited  with  an  object.  If  a  man 
be  not  grovelling  enough  to  be  fond  of  money, 
here  is  honour  to  allure  him:  if  he  spurn 
sensual  gratifications,  he  may  pursue  "the 


knowledge  which  puffeth  up."  And  as  it  is 
said  of  Joab,  that  "  he  had  turned  after  Adoni- 
jah,  though  he  turned  not  after  Absalom;" 
so  a  man  who  has  vanepiished  one  temptation, 
may  be  overcome  by  another,  more  suitable 
to  his  propensity,  and  more  aided  by  circum- 
stances. O  what  spoils  of  truth,  of  conscience, 
and  of  devotion  can  the  world  display  !  In 
how  many  has  it  had  the  unhappy  influence 
to  counteract  conviction,  and  to  destroy  the 
most  promising  beginnings  of  seriousness  ! 
Hence  the  apostacy-  of  Demas — "  he  loved 
this  present  world" — "  Felix  trembled,"  but 
"  willing  to  show  the  Jews  a  pleasure,  left 
Paul  bound." — "Herod  heard  John  gladly, 
and  did  many  wonderful  things ;"  but  the 
charms  of  a  beloved  Herodias  obtained  an  or- 
der for  his  execution.  The  young  man  inquir- 
ed after  eternal  life,  and  our  Saviour  "  loved 
him ;"  but  "  he  went  away  sorrowful,  for  he 
was  very  rich" — "  He  also  that  received  seed 
among  thorns,  is  he  that  heareth  the  word  ; 
and  the  cares  of  this  world,  and  the  deceitful- 
ness  of  riches,  choke  the  word,  and  it  becom- 
eth  unfruitful." 

— And  where  the  world  does  not  acquire 
such  a  predominancy  in  the  soul  as  to  be  en- 
tirely subversive  of  religion,  it  may  prevail  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  be  very  injurious  to  it.  A 
real  Christian  may  have  too  keen  a  relish  for 
the  allowed  indulgences  of  life.  He  may  be 
too  much  alive  to  the  opinion  of  his  fellow- 
worms.  He  may  be  too  eager  to  "  add  house  to 
house,  and  to  join  field  to  field."  He  may 
"  load  himself  with  thick  clay,"  and  go  on 
heavily.  He  may  "  touch  the  unclean  thing," 
soil  "  the  fine  linen  which  is  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  saints,"  and  wear  a  "  garment 
spotted  by  the  flesh."  He  may  spread  earth 
over  his  affections,  and  damp  their  ardour. 
As  the  consequence  of  nil  this  worldly  influ- 
ence, there  will  be  little  spirituality  in  his 
conversation ;  little  life  in  ordinances ;  little 
pleasure  in  drawing  near  to  God  ;  a  loss  of  in- 
ward peace  ;  corroding  care ;  a  dread  of  af- 
fliction ;  a  thorny  dying  pillow.  He  will  be 
a  stumbling-block  to  the  weak,  and  a  distress 
to  the  strong:  nor  will  his  religion  stand 
forth  prominently  enough  to  be  visible  and 
striking  "  to  them  that  are  without." 

Christians  !  there  are  two  things  which  we 
wish  you  to  remember.  The  one  is,  that 
your  greatest  danger  lies  in  things  lawful ; 
for  the  proposal  of  any  thing  apparently  sin- 
ful would  awaken  your  fears,  and  your  fears 
would  secure  you.  "  Every  creature  of  God 
is  good  ;"  but  if  it  be  not  "  sanctified  by  the 
word  of  God  and  prayer,"  the  blessing  may  be 
turned  into  a  curse,  and  our  very  "table  may 
become  a  snare  and  a  trap."  We  are  even 
bound  to  love  our  connexions  :  but  love  may 
grow  up  into  idolatry.  Extremes  are  conti- 
guous. The  line  of  separation  between  law- 
ful and  unlawful  is  a  single  hair :  on  this  the 
1  enemy  takes  his  station,  in  order  that,  when 


78 


SERMON  XII. 


lie  finds  us  advancing  to  the  verge  of  permis- 
sion, to  draw  us  over,  and  induce  us  to  trans- 
gress. The  other  is,  that  this  evil  frequent- 
ly advances  by  slow  degrees ;  approaches  the 
heart  by  imperceptible  access;  and,  by  spe- 
cious pretensions,  justifies  its  continuance 
there.  It  assumes  a  thousand  flexible  shapes ; 
wears  various  names ;  passes  under  the  no- 
tion of  good  breeding,  sociability,  opportuni- 
ties of  usefulness,  "laying  up  for  the  chil- 
dren"— "  With  her  much  fair  speech  she 
causes  him  to  yield  ;  with  the  flattery  of  her 
lips  she  forces  him — he  goeth  after  her 
straightway,  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter, 
or  as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks : 
till  a  dart  strike  through  his  liver;  as  a  bird 
hasteth  to  the  snare,  and  knoweth  not  that  it 
is  for  his  life." — What  is  the  conclusion  of  all 
this  T  O  professors  of  religion,  "  love  not  the 
world,  nor  the  things  of  the  world."  "  Be  not 
conformed  to  this  world."  Consider  it  as  an 
enemy.  Regard  it  with  caution.  Walk  as 
among  snares.  Be  circumspect.  Be  watch- 
ful. And  if  you  would  pass  through  the  world 
with  safety,  recollect, 

IV.  That  the  divine  protection  is  es- 
sential to  your  security.  The  more  va- 
luable things  are,  the  more  dependent  will 
they  be  found.  Sheep  require  more  care  than 
wolves ;  vines,  than  brambles.  A  garden  de- 
mands more  attention  than  a  wilderness ;  and 
children  are  reared  with  far  greater  solici- 
tude than  animal  young.  Nothing  equals  the 
dependence  of  the  Christian :  but  herein  lie 
all  his  spiritual  resources ;  for  when  he  "  is 
weak,  then  he  is  strong."  When  in  himself 
he  can  do  nothing,  he  forms  an  alliance  with 
Omnipotence,  and  can  do  all  things. 

— Be  sensible  of  your  inability  to  sustain 
and  defend  yourselves.  Bring  under  your  re- 
view all  those  who,  possessing  every  advan- 
tage, have  drawn  back  unto  perdition.  They 
advanced  far,  and  promised  well ;  but,  like  a 
stone  urged  up  the  side  of  a  hill,  which, 
when  the  impelling  force  is  removed,  rushes 
back  with  greater  velocity,  and  bounds  fur- 
ther into  the  plain  below  ;  so  these  have  en- 
tered again  into  the  world,  and  are  more  dis- 
tinguished by  its  vices  and  follies  than  before. 
"  For  if,  after  they  have  escaped  the  pollu- 
tions of  the  world,  through  the  knowledge  of 
the  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  they  are 
again  entangled  therein,  and  overcome ;  the 
latter  end  is  worse  than  the  beginning."  Mark 
the  falls  of  good  men  themselves,  who  have 
been  "  recovered  from  the  snare  of  the  devil." 
When  they  went  forth,  but  not  "in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord,"  they  were  found  une- 
qual to  the  trial,  and  by  bitter  experience 
were  convinced  of  their  weakness.  When 
our  Saviour  had  informed  the  disciples,  that 
•'the  Shepherd  would  be  smitten,  and  the 
sheep  scattered  abroad ;"  Peter  said, "  Though 
all  men  should  be  offended  because  of  thee,  I 
will  never  be  offended."   When  our  Lord 


gave  him  the  premonition,  "  Before  the  cock 
crow  twice,  thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice ;"  he 
exclaimed,  "  Though  I  should  die  with  thee, 
yet  will  I  not  deny  thee."  He  was  sincere, 
but  self-confident.  And  what  was  the  conse- 
quence 1  His  resolution  failed  him :  he  deni- 
ed his  Lord  with  "  oaths  and  curses."  Weigh 
well  the  language  of  One  who  knows  what  is 
in  man,  and  who  has  said,  "  Without  me,  ye 
can  do  nothing."  Compare  your  experience 
with  it.  And,  painful  as  it  will  be,  call  to 
your  remembrance  the  numerous  variations, 
instabilities,  declensions,  backslidings  of  your 
lives. 

— Be  equally  persuaded,  also,  that  the  Di- 
vine power  is  as  adequate,  as  it  isjiecessary 
to  your  preservation.  "Even  the  youths  shall 
faint  and  be  weary,  and  the  young  men  shall 
utterly  fall.  But  they  that  wait  upon  the  Lord 
shall  renew  their  strength;  they  shall  mount  up 
with  wings,  as  eagles;  they  shall  run  and  not 
be  weary,  and  they  shall  walk  and  not  faint." 
It  is  his  character,  and  his  prerogative,  that 
"He  is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling,  and  to 
present  you  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his 
glory  with  exceeding  joy."  He  preserved 
Abijah  in  the  wicked  family  of  Jeroboam.  He 
secured  "saints  even  in  Caesar's  household." 
Behold  yonder  illustrious  "multitude  stand- 
ing before  the  throne,  with  palms  in  their 
hands."  Full  of  weakness,  they  passed 
through  a  world  of  danger:  their  sufficiency 
was  of  God.  He  enabled  them  "  to  hold  on 
their  way,  and  to  wax  stronger  and  stronger." 
He  "girded  them  with  strength,  and  made 
their  way  perfect."  By  "Him,  they  ran 
through  a  troop,  and  leaped  over  a  wall."  By 
Him,  they  "  trod  on  the  lion  and  adder :  the 
young  lion  and  the  dragon  they  trampled  un- 
der feet."  And  He  is  the  same.  His  "hand 
is  not  shortened  that  it  cannot  save,  nor  his 
ear  heavy  that  it  cannot  hear."  "  The  Lord 
redeemeth  the  soul  of  his  servants;  and  none 
of  them  that  trust  in  him  shall  be  desolate." 

As  the  Divine  protection  is  necessary, 
and  adequate  to  your  defence,  so  it  is  attain- 
able; and  the 

Last  division  of  our  subject  shews  us  how 
it  is  to  be  obtained — By  prayer.  "  Ask,  and 
it  shall  be  given  you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find ; 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you." 
Hence  the  practice  of  the  saints — "Set  a 
watch,  O  Lord,  upon  my  lips ;  keep  the  door 
of  my  mouth."  "  Hold  thou  me  up,  and  I 
shall  be  safe."  "  Order  my  steps  in  thy  word : 
and  let  not  any  iniquity  have  dominion  over 
me."  "  Uphold  me,  according  to  thy  word ; 
that  I  may  live :  and  let  me  not  be  ashamed 
of  my  hope."  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation, 
but  deliver  us  from  evil." 

Christians,  however,  are  sensible  of  the  im- 
perfections of  their  own  performances.  They 
can  scarcely  call  their  weak  efforts,  prayer. 
"  Like  a  crane,  or  a  swallow,  so  did  I  chat- 
ter."  "Could  I  see  an  inspired  record  of  all 


SERMON  XII. 


77 


my  prayers — could  I  see  as  God  does  the 
manner  in  which  I  have  always  addressed 
him — The  vain  thoughts!  The  numberless 
distractions !  How  often  I  have  asked  amiss ! 
Sometimes  without  ardour,  sometimes  with- 
out confidence"  Hence  it  is  a  pleasing 

relief  to  their  minds,  to  know  that  their  bre- 
thren pray  for  them ;  that  God  is  daily  hear- 
ing, from  lips  more  devout  than  their  own, 
"  Do  good,  O  Lord,  unto  those  that  be  good, 
and  to  them  that  are  upright  in  their  hearts." 
"  Let  all  those  that  seek  thee,  rejoice  and  be 
glad  in  thee  :  let  such  as  love  thy  salvation, 
say  continually,  The  Lord  be  magnified."  Is 
my  character  here  described  ?  How  pleasing 
is  it  to  reflect,  that  I  am  peculiarly  interested 
in  the  daily  supplications  of  all  the  people  of 
God  ;  and  that  "  the  effectual  fervent  prayer 
of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much !" 

But  their  chief  consolation  is  derived  from 
a  higher  source.  "  And  another  angel  came, 
and  stood  at  the  altar,  havinga  golden  censer : 
and  there  was  given  unto  him  much  incense ; 
that  he  should  offer  it  with  the  prayers  of  all 
saints  upon  the  golden  altar,  which  was  before 
the  throne.  And  the  smoke  of  the  incense 
which  came  with  the  prayers  of  the  saints,  as- 
cended up  before  God,  out  of  the  angel's 
hand."  Thus  Jesus  perfumes  and  presents 
our  services;  thus  he  obtains  for  our  suppli- 
cations audience  and  acceptance.  Whether 
the  intercession  of  our  High  Priest  in  heaven 
be  verbal,  or  mental  only,  it  is  not  necessary 
for  us  to  determine.  We  know  it  is  real. 
We  know  that  "  He  appears  in  the  presence 
of  God  for  us."  We  know  that  having  been 
"  reconciled  by  his  death,  we  shall  be  saved 
by  his  life."  We  know  that  "  He  is  able  al- 
so to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that  come  un- 
to God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make 
intercession  for  them." 

It  may  be  necessary,  however,  to  caution 
ou  not  to  mistake  the  nature  and  design  of 
lis  intercession.  It  is  not  to  inform  God,  as 
if  he  were  ignorant.  It  is  not  to  remind  him, 
as  if  he  were  forgetful.  It  is  not  to  persuade 
him,  as  if  he  were  unkind.  The  appointment 
is  entirely  his  own.  It  sprang  from  his  mer- 
cy, and  exemplifies  his  wisdom.  What  a  dis- 
play have  we  here  of  the  majesty  and  holi- 
ness of  God,  that  he  will  not  suffer  us  to  ap- 
proach him  without  a  Mediator !  How  power- 
fully does  it  convince  us  of  our  unwor- 
thiness  and  vileness!  How  loudly  does  it 
preach  to  us  reverence  and  humility !  What 
becomes  of  self-righteousness,  if  we  can  bring 
nothing  deserving  the  Divine  regards;  if  our 
best  duties  need  forgiveness,  rather  than  re- 
compense; if  "the  iniquity  of  our  most  holy 
things"  would  be  sufficient  to  destroy  all  our 
confidence  1  But,  O  how  it  meets  the  fears  of 
the  returning  sinner,  and  the  discouragements 
of  the  dejected  saint !  "  We  have  boldness  and 
access  with  confidence  by  the  faith  of  Him." 
If  this  dispensation  were  not  designedly  typi- 


I- 

hi 


fied,  it  is  beautifully  illustrated  in  the  address 
of  God  "  to  Eliphaz,  and  his  two  friends" — 
"  You  have  not  spoken  of  me  the  thing  that 
is  right.  Therefore  take  unto  you  now  seven 
bullocks,  and  seven  rams,  and  go  to  my  ser- 
vant Job,  and  offer  up  for  yourselves  a  burnt- 
offering — and  my  servant  Job  shall  pray  for 
you;  for  him  will  I  accept:  lest  I  deal  with 
you  after  your  folly." 

We  conclude  by  observing,  what  a  view  this 
gives  us  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  What  an 
infinitely  important  station  does  he  occupy  ! 
What  an  understanding  must  he  possess,  to 
be  accurately  acquainted  with  the  diversified 
circumstances  and  necessities  of  all  the  re- 
deemed !  How  unparalleled  is  that  love, 
which  knows  no  variableness ;  which  renders 
him,  not  only  in  his  lowest  abasement,  but  in 
his  highest  dignity,  the  friend  of  sinners; 
which  induces  him,  while  surrounded  by  all 
the  adorations  of  heaven,  to  listen  to  the  com- 
plaints and  petitions  of  each  of  his  people  up- 
on earth ;  and  which  never  suffers  him  for  one 
moment  to  remit  the  kindness  of  his  atten- 
tions ! 

Again :  what  a  representation  does  the  sub- 
ject give  us  of  the  happiness  of  believers ! 
Though  their  Saviour  be  "  passed  into  the 
heavens,"  they  know  that  he  has  not  dropped 
his  concern  for  them :  they  know  that  they 
"have  not  an  High  Priest,  who  cannot  be 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  their  infirmities." 
— And  what  is  the  inference  ?  "  Let  us  there- 
fore come  boldly  to  the  throne  of  grace,  that 
we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help 
in  time  of  need."  "Having  such  an  High 
Priest  over  the  house  of  God,  let  us  draw  near 
in  full  assurance  of  faith."  Let  us  contem- 
plate our  glorious  Intercessor.  Let  us  remem- 
ber the  dignity  of  his  nature — he  "is  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  ex- 
press image  of  his  person."  Let  us  remem- 
ber the  dearness  of  his  character — "  This," 
says  the  Father,  "  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom 
I  am  well  pleased."  "  Ask  of  me,  and  I  shall 
give  thee  the  heathen  for  thine  inheritance, 
and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy 
possession."  Let  us  remember  the  value  of 
his  atonement — he  is  more  than  an  interces- 
sor, he  is  "  an  advocate  with  the  Father ;"  " he 
is  the  propitiation  for  our  sins."  He  could 
say,  "  I  have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth ;  I 
have  finished  the  work  which  thou  hast  given 
me  to  do :  and  now,  Father,  glorify  me."  "  He 
entered  heaven  with  his  own  blood,  having  ob- 
tained eternal  redemption  for  us."  His  suf- 
ferings and  death,  his  obedience  and  righ- 
teousness, all  plead  our  cause:  he  asks  no- 
thing which  God  had  not  suspended  on  a  con- 
dition which  he  has  already  performed.  And 
in  consequence  of  all  this,  let  us  remember  the 
certainty  of  his  success — "I  know  that  thou 
hearest  me  always." 

— Come  then,  Christians,  and  "  rejoice 
with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory."  You 


78 


SERMON  XIII. 


have  a  Friend  in  court ;  an  elder  brother  in ' 
the  palace  of  the  King  of  kings.  In  his  all- 
prevailing  name  you  may  approach  ;  and  while 
blushing  over  your  poor  services,  you  may  be 
assured  that  your  prayers  will  be  heard,  that 
your  strength  shall  be  equal  to  your  day,  that 
your  grace  shall  be  crowned  with  glory,  and 
that  "no  good  thing  shall  be  withholden from 
you."  While  Zechariah  was  burning  incense 
within,  all  the  people  were  praying  without. 

0  pleasing  emblem  of  Christians,  and  of  "  the 
High  Priest  of  their  profession!"  While  you 
are  praying  in  the  outer  court  of  this  world, 
he  is  "  within  the  vail,"  with  "  the  blood  of 
sprinkling,"  and  the  censer.  It  was  the  hap- 
piness of  the  Israelites,  while  fighting  in  the 
plain  below,  to  look  up  and  see  Moses  plead- 
ing with  God  for  them  on  the  hill. — Be  not 
dismayed,  ye  seed  of  Jacob.  "  Who  shall  lay 
any  thing  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  1  It  is 
God  that  justifieth  :  who  is  he  that  condemn- 
ed !  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea,  rather,  that  is 
risen  again ;  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of 
God  ;  who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us." 
— "  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than 
conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us.  For 

1  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life, 
nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor 
things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height, 
nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able 
to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is 
in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


SERMON  XIII. 


CONCUPISCENCE  PUNISHED. 
And  there  -went  forth  a  -wind  from  the  Lord, 
and  brought  quails  from  the  sea,  and  let 
them  fall  by  the  camp,  as  it  -were  a  day's 
journey  on  this  side,  and  as  it  -were  a  day's 
journey  on  the  other  side,  round  about  the 
camp,  and  as  it  -were  two  cubits  high  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth.  And  the  people  stood 
up  all  that  day,  and  all  that  night,  and  all 
the  next  day,  and  they  gathered  the  quails  : 
he  that  gathered  least  gathered  ten  homers  : 
and  they  spread  them  all  abroad  for  them- 
selves, round  about  the  camp.  And  while 
the  flesh  was  yet  between  their  teeth,  ere  it 
was  chewed,  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  was 
kindled  against  the  people  ;  and  the  Lord 
smote  the  people  with  a  very  great  plague. 
And  he  called  the  name  of  that  place  Ki- 
broth-haltaavah  ;  because  there  they  buried 
the  people  that  lusted. — Numbers  xi.  31 — 34. 

It  is  one  design  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  to 
make  "  sin  appear  exceeding  sinful."  Some- 
times they  place  the  evil  before  us  in  its  es- 
sential deformity  and  vileness.  Atothertimes, 
they  surround  it  with  "  the  terrors  of  the  Al- 
mighty," drawn  from  those  dreadful  threaten- 
ings  which  justify  all  our  fears.  To  confirm 
these  declarations,  and  illustrate  t  hese  motives, 
we  have  also  given  us  numerous  examples,  in 


which  we  see  the  malignity  of  sin  realized. 
"  Let  no  man  say,  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am 
tempted  of  God:  for  God  cannot  be  tempted 
with  evil;  neither  tempteth  he  any  man.  But 
every  man  is  tempted  when  he  isdrawn  away 
of  his  lust  and  enticed  :  then,  when  lust  hath 
conceived,  it  bringeth  forth  sin ;  and  sin,  when 
it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death." 

The  event  which  is  to  engage  our  present 
attention  is  singularly  awful.  We  do  not 
wonder  that  God,  who  esteems  the  prayer  of 
the  wicked  an  abomination,  should  refuse  their 
unreasonable  cry.  But  when  we  see  him 
working  a  miracle  to  gratify  their  wishes,  and 
making  his  bounty  the  means  of  their  destruc- 
tion, we  are  compelled  to  exclaim,  "How  un- 
searchable are  hisjudgments ;  and  his  ways 
are  past  finding  out !'.' 

The  Israelites  had  been  for  some  time  pre- 
ternaturally  fed  with  manna.  At  length  they 
despise  it,  and,  influenced  by  the  multitude  of 
strangers  that  was  among  them,  fall  a  lusting. 
"  They  wept  again,"  and  said,  "  Who  shall 
give  us  flesh  to  eat]  We  remember  the  fish 
which  we  did  eat  in  Egypt  freely  :  the  cucum- 
bers and  the  melons,  the  leeks,  and  the  onions, 
and  the  garlick :  but  now  our  soul  is  dried 
away ;  there  is  nothing  at  all  besides  this  man- 
na before  our  eyes."  The  Lord  hearkened 
and  heard.  He  promised  to  indulge  them  : 
and  behold  the  dreadful  accomplishment  of  his 
word  !  "And  there  went  forth  a  wind  from 
the  Lord,  and  brought  quails  from  the  sea,  and 
let  them  fall  by  the  camp,  as  it  were  a  day's 
journey  on  this  side,  and  as  it  were  a  day's 
journey  on  the  other  side,  round  about  the 
camp,  and  as  it  were  two  cubits  high  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth.  And  the  people  stood  up 
all  that  day.  and  all  that  night,  and  all  the 
next  day,  and  they  gathered  the  quails :  he 
that  gathered  least  gathered  ten  homers ;  and 
they  spread  them  all  abroad  for  themselves 
round  about  the  camp.  And  while  the  flesh 
was  yet  between  their  teeth,  ere  it  was  chew- 
ed, the  wrath  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against 
the  people ;  and  the  Lord  smote  the  people 
with  a  very  great  plague.  And  he  called  the 
name  of  that  place  Kibroth-hattaavah ;  because 
there  they  buried  the  people  that  lusted." 
But,  alas !  though  the  fathers  were  buried, 
their  children  survived  ;  and  there  are  many 
among  Christians  now,  as  well  as  among  the 
Jews  of  old,  upon  whose  tombs  Kibroth-hat- 
taavah may  be  inscribed,  with  a  translation 
under,  The  graves  of  lusts.  Let  us  ap- 
proach these  sepulchres,  and  receive  instruc- 
tion. 

I.  Let  us  remark  the  power  and  domi- 
nion of  God.  Every  element,  every  crea- 
ture is  subject  to  his  authority,  and  yields  to 
his  control.  He  holds  "  the  wind  in  his  fist :" 
he  determines  the  quarter  from  which  it 
blows;  the  time  of  its  rising  and  of  its  falling; 
the  degree  of  its  influence  ;  the  quality  of  its 
effects.    "  Every  living  thing"  stands  before 


SERMON  XIII. 


79 


nim,  and  ministers  unto  him  :  he  says  to  one, 
"  Go,  and  lie  goeth  ;  to  another,  come,  and  lie 
cometh."  He  speaks — and  the  fowls  of  the 
air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field  repair  to  Adam 
for  names,  to  Noah  for  shelter.  Has  he  ene- 
mies !  Where  can  they  hide  ?  how  can  they 
escape !  Every  place  is  a  magazine  of  arms  ; 
every  being  becomes  an  executioner,  from  an 
angel  to  a  fly.  Has  he  friends  1  He  can  never 
want  instruments  to  deliver  or  relieve  them. 
A  fish  supplies  Peter  with  the  sacred  tribute. 
Lions  refuse  to  touch  Daniel.  Ravens  feed 
Elijah.  He  nods,  and  the  sea  divides,  the 
rock  pours  out  water,  manna  drops  from  the 
clouds. — "  And  there  went  forth  a  wind  from 
the  Lord,  and  brought  quails  from  the  sea, 
and  let  them  fall  by  the  camp,  as  it  were  a 
day's  journey  on  this  side,  and  as  it  were  a 
day's  journey  on  the  other  side,  round  about 
the  camp,  and  as  it  were  about  two  cubits 
higli  upon  the  face  of  the  earth."  The  Israel- 
ites were  unbelieving;  they  questioned  his 
ability  to  supply  them — they  said,  "  Can  God 
furnish  a  table  in  the  wilderness'!  Behold, 
He  smote  the  rock,  and  the  waters  gushed 
out,  and  the  streams  overflowed;  can  he  give 
bread  also,  can  he  provide  flesh  for  his  peo- 
ple ?" — Even  Moses  staggered  through  unbe- 
lief. "  The  people  among  whom  I  am,  are 
six  hundred  thousand  footmen  ;  and  thou  hast 
said,  I  will  give  them  flesh,  that  they  may  eat 
a  whole  month.  Shall  the  flocks  and  herds 
be  slain  for  them,  to  suffice  them  ?  or  shall  all 
the  fish  in  the  sea  be  gathered  together  for 
them,  to  suffice  them  3  And  the  Lord  said 
unto  Moses,  Is  the  Lord's  hand  waxed  short  1 
Thou  shalt  see  now  whether  my  word  shall 
come  to  pass  unto  thee  or  not."  Christian  ! 
why  dost  thou  limit  "  the  Holy  One  of  Is- 
rael !"  Why  does  thy  confidence  tremble 
when  difficulties  multiply,  and  ordinary  means 
of  relief  fail  thee?  "  Hast  thou  not  known, 
hast  thou  not  heard,  that  the  everlasting  God, 
the  Lord,  the  Creator  of  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary?"  Behold  in 
Him,  whose  you  are  and  whom  you  serve, 
boundless  resources  at  the  command  of  friend- 
ly sympathy  and  fatherly  care.  "  To  him  be- 
long the  issues  from  death."  "  The  silver 
and  the  gold  are  his."  "  His  are  the  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills."  "  The  earth  is  the 
Lord's,  and  the  fulness  thereof;  the  world, 
and  they  that  dwell  therein."  "  O  fear  the 
Lord,  ye  his  saints ;  for  there  is  no  want  to 
them  that  fear  him :  the  young  lions  may  lack 
and  suffer  hunger,  but  they  that  seek  the  Lord 
shall  not  want  any  good  thing." 

II.  See  how  much  more  diligent  men  are 

IN  COLLECTING  THE  MEAT  THAT  PERISHETH, 
THAN  IN  LABOURING  FOR  THAT  MEAT  WHICH 
ENDURETH  UNTO  EVERLASTING   LIKE.      "  And 

the  people  stood  up  all  that  day,  and  all  that 
night,  and  all  the  next  day,  and  gathered  the 
quails :  he  that  gathered  least  gathered  ten 
homers :  and  they  spread  them  all  abroad  for 


themselves  round  about  the  camp."  What 
eagerness,  what  assiduity, what  perseverance, 
what  sacrifices  of  ease,  and  even  of  sleep,  do 
we  here  discover ! — "  This  is  our  opportunity  ; 
this  may  not  continue ;  this  may  never  re- 
turn." "  The  children  of  this  world  are  wiser 
in  their  generation  than  the  children  of  light." 
The  wants  of  nature  are  pressing,  and  knock 
till  they  are  relieved ;  but  spiritual  necessi- 
ties are  either  unknown,  or  disregarded. 
When  the  body  is  in  danger,  we  are  alarmed, 
and  instantly  inquire  for  means  of  safety :  but, 
inattentive  to  the  exposure  of  the  soul,  who 
asks  for  the  "  Balm  of  Gilead?  for  the  Phy- 
sician there  1"  We  are  quicksighted  in  the 
affairs  of  time  ;  but  O  what  stupidity  blinds 
us  as  to  the  concerns  of  eternity  !  If  there  be 
a  prospectof  improving  our  secular  advantage, 
we  need  no  arguments :  a  hint  excites  us ; 
we  are  awake;  we  rise  early,  sit  update,  eat 
the  bread  of  carefulness  :  we  form  our  plans ; 
we  lay  hold  of  every  accidental  assistance; 
we  compass  sea  and  land.  But  when  we  are 
to  obtain  "  the  honour  that  cometh  from  God," 
to  gain  a  seat  "  in  heavenly  places,"  to  secure 
"  the  true  riches" — we  are  all  torpor,  and  for- 
getfulness.  Here  we  need  line  upon  line, 
precept  upon  precept.  Sabbaths  must  be  in- 
stituted, to  impress  us ;  ministers  must  be  ap- 
pointed, to  stir  up  our  minds  by  way  of  re- 
membrance ;  conscience  must  be  deputed,  to 
live  within  us  as  a  constant  monitor — and 
where  is  our  assiduity  and  application,  after 
all ?  Who  sees  us  "  working  out  our  salva- 
tion with  fear  and  trembling  ?"  "  striving  to 
enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  1"  "  pressing  into 
the  kingdom  of  God  1"  "  giving  all  diligence 
to  make  our  calling  and  election  sure  ?" 
III.  Persons  may  gather  and  hoard  up 

WHAT  THEY  WILL  NEVER  LIVE  TO  ENJOY.  See 

these  men.  They  are  anxious  to  lay  in  a 
stock  for  days  and  weeks  to  come.  They  ac- 
cordingly provide  it,  and  prepare  it. — But 
would  they  have  been  so  active,  so  eager,  so 
grasping,  had  they  foreseen  that  they  were 
immediately  to  leave  their  abundance,  and 
that  as  soon  as  they  tasted  they  were  to  die  ! 
But  so  it  was  — "  And  while  the  flesh  was  yet 
between  their  teeth,  ere  it  was  chewed,  the 
wrath  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against  the 
people,  and  the  Lord  smote  the  people  with  a 
very  great  plague." — By  many  considera- 
tions, my  brethren,  do  we  labour  to  quench 
your  undue  ardours  in  the  chace  of  earthly 
things.  We  have  often  laid  before  you  the 
Divine  prohibitions.  We  have  shewn  you 
how  impossible  it  is  "  to  serve  God  and  Mam- 
mon." We  have  proved  that  "  a  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things 
that  he  possesses ;  that  nature  is  satisfied 
with  little,  and  grace  with  less. — And,  after 
all  this,  are  you  torn  with  anxieties,  and 
wearying  yourselves  in  worldly  pursuits? 
Take  another  view — contemplate  the  vanity, 
the  brevity,  the  uncertainty  of  life,  upon  the 


SO 


SERMON  Xin. 


continuance  of  which  all  depends.  "Go  to 
now,  ye  that  say,  To-day  or  to-morrow  we 
will  go  into  such  a  city,  and  continue  there  a 
year,  and  buy  and  sell,  and  get  gain  :  whereas 
ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow. 
For  what  is  your  life!  It  is  even  a  vapour, 
that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then 
vanisheth  away."  "  And  he  thought  within 
himself,  saying,  What  shall  I  do,  because  I 
have  no  room  where  to  bestow  my  fruits  ! 
and  he  said,  this  will  I  do :  I  will  pull  down 
my  barns,  and  build  greater ;  and  there  will  I 
bestow  all  my  goods.  And  I  will  say  to  my  soul, 
Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many 
years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry.  But  God  said  unto  him,  Thou  fool, 
this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee : 
then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou 
hast  provided  V  "  There  is  one  alone,  and 
there  is-  not  a  second  ;  yea,  he  hath  neither 
child  nor  brother :  yet  is  there  no  end  of  all 
his  labour;  neither  is  his  eye  satisfied  with 
riches;  neither  saith  he,  For  whom  do  I  la- 
bour, and  bereave  my  soul  of  good  ?  This  is 
also  vanity."  "  Surely  every  man  walketh  in 
a  vain  shew ;  surely  they  are  disquieted  in 
vain  :  he  heapeth  up  riches,  and  knoweth  not 
who  shall  gather  them."  "  In  the  fulness  of 
his  sufficiency,  he  shall  be  in  straits :  every 
hand  of  the  wicked  shall  come  upon  him. 
When  he  is  about  to  fill  his  belly,  God  shall 
cast  the  fury  of  his  wrath  upon  him,  and  shall 
rain  it  upon  him  while  he  is  eating." 

Have  you  read  this  in  the  Bible  only  1  Is 
it  there  alone  that  human  life  is  reduced  to  a 
span,  a  tale,  a  dream,  a  nothing  ! — Whom 
have  you  followed  down  to  the  grave  1  Who 
are  perpetually  falling  around  you  ]  The  aged 
and  the  infirm'! — Who  has  promised  you 
length  of  days ]  Who  has  engaged  to  secure 
you  from  disasters  and  disease,  till  you  have 
reached  your  aim  ]  And  what  is  the  tenure  of 
your  possession,  when  the  envied  prize  is  ac- 
quired !  Does  the  honour  wither  as  we  gather 
if!  Do  we  come  to  an  estate,  only  to  bequeath 
it]  Do  we  lay  out  so  much  for  a  mansion 
which  hangs  on  one  dying  life,  and  when  we 
know  the  Lord  of  the  manor  will  not  allow  us 
to  renew !  Shall  we  purchase  at  a  great 
price  articles  which  death  has  appraised  and 
pronounced  to  be  injured  and  nearly  unser- 
viceable] As  strangers  and  pilgrims,  shall  we 
take  a  world  of  pains  to  beautify  and  enrich 
an  inn  which  accommodates  us  only  for  a 
night,  when  in  the  morning  we  are  to  go  on 
our  way — a  way  by  which  we  shall  never 
return.7 — "Lord,  teach  us  to  number  our 
days,  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto 
wisdom. 

IV.  It  is  not  the  refusal,  but  the 

GRATIFICATION  OF  OUR  DESIRES  THAT  OFTEN 

proves  ruinous.  God  was  provoked — And 
how  does  he  shew  his  anger  and  punish  the 
offenders]  By  indulgence — Ah!  well  had  it 
been  for  Israel  if  God  had  turned  away  his. 


ear  from  their  clamour,  and  they  had  never 
seen  a  quail — Poor  harmless  birds  !  you  un- 
knowingly carry  along  the  curse  of  Heaven. 
Deluded  suppliants !  You  hail  their  approach : 
but  you  are  filling  your  laps  with  poison — 
and  plague — and  death !  Rachel  said,  "  Give 
me  children,  or  else  I  die" — She  had  children 
and  died.  The  Jews  were  impatient  for  a 
king — and  says  God,  "  I  gave  them  a  king  in 
mine  anger,  and  took  him  away  in  my 
wrath."  "Who  knoweth  what  is  good  for 
man  in  this  life,  all  the  days  of  his  vain  life 
which  he  spendeth  as  a  shadow  !"  Connec- 
tions passionately  sought  may  prove  "  scourges 
in  your  sides,  and  thorns  in  your  eyes."  A 
well-spread  table  may  be  made  a  snare,  and  a 
trap,  and  a  stumblingblock,  and  a  recom- 
pense." Your  prosperity  may  destroy  you. 
"  They  that  will  be  rich  fall  into  temptation, 
and  a  snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruction 
and  perdition." 

When  men  are  intemperate  in  their  desires 
after  worldly  things,  and  succeed  in  obtain- 
ing what  Divine  Providence,  from  a  know- 
ledge of  its  consequences,  was  willing  to 
withhold — the  displeasure  of  God  comes 
along  with  their  unhallowed  successes;  and 
it  matters  not  in  what  way  the  curse  is  in- 
flicted— whether  more  visibly  or  secretly — 
whether  by  miracle,  or  by  the  natural  in- 
fluence of  events  on  their  depravity. 

Sometimes  the  things  so  eagerly  lusted  af- 
ter prove  injurious  to  health.  Thus  a  man 
is  enabled  to  resign  business — but  he  becomes 
gloomy  and  melancholy.  He  lives  more 
sumptuously,  and  deliciously — but  diseases, 
to  which  he  was  once  a  stranger,  spring  from 
repletion  and  indulgence,  and  becloud  his  fu- 
ture days. 

Sometimes  satisfaction  is  taken  out  of 
these  things,  and  the  man  is  far  less  happy 
than  he  was  before  he  had  gained  them.  His 
wishes  multiply  more  than  his  means:  his 
successes  pamper  every  principle  unfavourable 
to  internal  repose.  "He  that  loveth  silver 
shall  not  be  satisfied  with  silver;  nor  he  that 
loveth  abundance,  with  increase."  "There 
is  an  evil  which  I  have  seen  under  the  sun, 
and  it  is  common  among  men:  a  man,  to 
whom  God  hath  given  riches,  wealth,  and 
honour,  so  that  he  wanteth  nothing  for  his 
soul  of  all  that  he  desireth  ;  yet  God  giveth 
him  not  power  to  eat  thereof." 

Things  so  coveted  have  often  proved  mo- 
rally injurious.  They  have  been  oil,  to 
feed  the  flame  of  those  evil  passions  which 
ought  to  be  extinguished.  They  have  proved 
rain  and  sunshine,  to  call  forth  and  ripen  a 
thousand  seeds  of  temptation,  which  were  bu- 
ried under  ground.  By  these,  the  character 
has  not  only  been  developed,  but  formed. 
The  man  has  changed  with  his  condition ; 
and  has  become  the  monster  he  once  abhor- 
red.— "  He  gave  them  their  hearts'  desire, 


SERMON  XIV. 


81 


but  sent  leanness  into  their  souls." — And  is 
this  a  matter  of  congratulation !  Can  that  be 
a  blessing  which  injures  your  chief  welfare, 
and  destroys  the  prosperity  of  the  soul?  Are 
you  strangers  to  that  spirituality  of  frame 
which  you  once  discovered  1  Are  you  chilled 
in  your  holy  affections  ?  Are  you  become  on- 
ly formal  worshippers !  Are  you  deprived  of 
the  joy  of  God's  salvation  !  Is  your  conversa- 
tion less  in  heaven  !  Do  you  mind  earthly 
things  !  Are  you  more  unwilling  to  leave  this 
world,  and  enter  a  better ! — And  are  you 
gainers — because,  with  the  sacrifice  of  all 
these  religious  advantages,  you  have  risen  in 
life,  and  increased  in  affluence  1 

Many  professors  of  religion,  not  satisfied 
with  the  state  in  which  God  has  placed  them, 
greedily  desire  more — and  upon  what  princi- 
ple !  Not  their  necessities ;  but  their  lusts. 
It  is  not  a  house  they  want :  this  they  have 
already — but  a  mansion.  It  is  not  food  and 
raiment  they  want :  these  are  provided — but 
superfluities.  It  is  not  an  ability  to  travel 
they  want :  they  have  strength  and  feet  al- 
ready— but  it  is  a  carriage.  They  wish  to  be 
idle,  luxurious,  splendid,  superior  to  others. 
He  enlarges  their  resources:  he  indulges 
them — indulges  their  indolence,  their  pride, 
their  arrogance,  their  carnality,  their  forget- 
fulness  of  God — and  what  is  such  an  indul- 
gence ? — what  is  it  for  Providence  to  feed  our 
sin  J  to  give  us  permission  to  go  astray  ]  and, 
instead  of  hedging  up  our  way  with  thorns,  to 
render  it  alluring  and  seducing,  by  scattering 
it  aU^-long  with  flowers  ? 

Men  and  brethren,  the  reflection  is  no  less 
edifying  than  lawful. 

It  shews  us,  First,  How  impossible  it  is  to 
determine  the  love  or  anger  of  God  from  ex- 
ternal circumstances.  Behold  the  rich  man 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  faring 
sumptuously  every  day.  See  Lazarus  laid  at 
his  gate  full  of  sores,  and  desiring  to  be  fed 
with  the  crumbs  which  fell  from  his  table.  But 
the  former  is  the  enemy,  and  the  latter  the 
friend  of  God  :  long  ago  the  one  has  been  com- 
forted, and  the  other  tormented — and  there 
were  the  same  dispositions  in  God  towards 
them  when  they  were  upon  earth.  There  is 
nothing  concerning  which  we  are  more  liable 
to  err,  than  worldly  success.  It  depends  so 
entirely  upon  God,  and  it  is  so  flattering  to  our 
feelings,  that  we  can  scarcely  persuade  our- 
selves that  it  is  ever  an  unfavourable  omen. 
But  this  is  not  unfrequently  the  case.  It  is 
sometimes  sent  in  anger:  and  we  should  la- 
bour to  ascertain  the  principle  from  which  it 
is  given.  A  natural  man  regards  only  the  ef- 
fect, but  the  Christian  looks  to  the  Source.  A 
stranger  would  prefer  the  flower  of  a  plant  to 
the  root,  but  the  gardener  who  owns  it  values 
the  root  more  than  the  flower.  Oh  !  it  is  well 
to  be  able  to  say,  "  Thou  hast,  in  love  to  my 
soul,"  delivered  me  from  the  pit  of  corruption, 
formed  for  mo  such  a  union,  prospered  the  la- 


bour of  my  hands,  blessed  my  bread  and  my 

water — 

'•  How  swept  our  daily  comforts  prove. 
When  tliey  are  season'd  with  Ilis  love!" 

Secondly.  This  principle  crushes  envy, 
"  Be  not  thou  afraid  when  one  is  made  rich, 
when  the  glory  of  his  house  is  increased." 
"  Fret  not  thyself  because  of  him  who  pros- 
pereth  in  his  way" — you  are  not  certain  that 
his  condition  is  really  desirable — would  you 
envy  a  man  the  wine  he  is  going  to  drink,  if 
you  knew  that  it  would  poison  him  ?  or  the 
robe  he  is  going  to  wear,  if  you  knew  that  it 
would  infect  him  with  the  plague  !  On  the 
other  hand,  you  may  err  in  your  pity.  You 
say,  such  a  friend,  alas !  is  reduced — but  he  is 
only  taken  down  from  the  hill  of  danger  and 
placed  in  the  vale  of  safety.  You  say,  he 
groans — yes,  a  limb  is  amputating  :  but  it  is  to 
save  the  whole  body  from  mortification  and 
death. 

Thirdly.  The  prosperity  of  the  wicked, 
and  the  sufferings  of  the  righteous,  are  a  mys- 
tery, which  has  often  perplexed  even  good 
men — but  here  it  is  explained.  He  can  give 
in  wrath,  and  refuse  in  mercy.  He  can  in- 
dulge us  to  destruction ;  and  he  can  chasten 
us,  that  we  may  not  be  condemned  with  the 
world. 

Fourthly.  Here  we  can  harmonize  the 
character  and  promise  of  God  with  those  de- 
nials which  He  sometimes  gives  to  our  peti- 
tions. He  is  a  God  hearing  prayer.  He  has 
said,  "Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you;  seek, 
and  ye  shall  find."  But  you  have  implored 
many  things  which  you  have  never  obtained 
— This  helps  you  to  understand  the  Scriptures, 
and  shews  you  with  what  conditions  and  qua- 
lifications God  has  spoken.  He  did  not  engage 
to  gratify  your  desires,whether  his  indulgence 
would  be  beneficial  or  injurious — This  would 
have  been  a  threatning,  not  a  promise.  "  A 
heathen  could  say,  "It  is  kind  in  the  gods 
not  to  hear  us,  when  we  pray  for  things  that 
are  evil."  If  a  man  give  "good  things"  un- 
to his  children,  in  answer  to  their  reasonable 
and  needful  desires,  he  is  a  good  father:  and 
who  would  think  of  reflecting  upon  him,  as 
not  discharging  the  duties  of  his  relation,  be- 
cause he  does  not,  wliile  they  are  incapable 
of  judging  for  themselves,  give  them  a  knife  or 
a  loaded  pistol,  or  suffer  them  to  climb  a  ladder, 
and,  becoming  giddy,  expose  themselves  to 
instant  destruction  ] 

Let  us  learn,  also,  with  what  a  reserve  we 
should  always  pray.  Let  us  not  presume  to 
determine  beforehand  that  certain  things  are 
indispensably  necessary,  and,  because  we  think 
we  absolutely  want  them,  grow  fretful  and 
miserable  when  we  are  refused.  This  is  to 
prescribe  to  God  ;  to  impeach  his  wisdom  and 
his  goodness :  and  nothing  can  be  more  im- 
proper in  the  unworthy  who  have  no  claims, 
and  in  the  ignorant  who  have  been  so  often 
deceived  in  their  judgments.    Let  us  always 


B2 


SERMON  XIV. 


refer  ourselves  to  his  counsel.  Let  us  be  al- 
ways his  followers,  not  his  guides.  Let  us 
trust,  and  not  teach  him  :  and  let  us  learn  to 
imitate  the  example  of  David,  who,  in  a  case 
the  most  trying-,  said,  "  Carry  back  the  ark  of 
God  into  the  city :  If  I  shall  find  favour  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  he  will  bring  me  again, 
and  shew  me  both  it  and  its  habitation — But 
if  he  thus  say,  I  have  no  delight  in  thee ;  be- 
hold, here  I  am  ;  let  him  do  to  me  as  seemeth 
good  to  him."  And  be  it  remembered,  this  is 
the  way  to  succeed.  When  God  gives  in 
kindness,  he  produces  a  previous  temperance 
of  desire  which  will  allow  him  to  indulge  us 
with  safety.  A  preparation  for  our  mercies 
is  as  necessary  as  a  preparation  for  our  trials 
and  our  duties — who  thinks  of  this! 

Finally,  The  subject  says  to  us,  in  forcible 
language — Be  moderate  in  your  desires — 
"let  your  conversation  be  without  covetous- 
ness — be  content  with  such  things  as  ye  have." 
"  Seekest  thou  great  things  to  thyself  !  seek 
them  not."  Our  Saviour  teaches  you  this 
lesson,  in  your  very  devotion :  "  Give  us  this 
day  our  daily  bread."  All  Jacob  stipulates 
for  is  "  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  to  put  on." 
And  "having  food  and  raiment,"  says  an 
apostle,  "  let  us  be  therewith  content."  This 
is  the  grand  improvement  we  ought  to  make 
of  the  piece  of  history  before  us — "  Now  these 
things  were  our  examples,  to  the  intent 

THAT  WE  SHOULD  NOT  LUST  AFTER  EVIL 
THINGS,  AS  THEY  ALSO  LUSTED."     How  Were 

quails  evil  things  1 — Is  not  every  creature  of 
God  good  1 — The  case  was  this — They  were 
evil  in  their  consequences,  and  also  in  the 
principle  from  which  they  were  desired. 
These  Jews  craved  them  unnecessarily :  they 
had  a  sufficiency  before,  from  the  miraculous 
and  merciful  providence  of  Heaven — they 
craved  them  intemperately  and  unsubmissive- 
ly  :  they  demanded  :  "  they  wept  aloud." — 
Christians,  beware  of  such  senseless  and  in- 
ordinate longings:  beware  of  a  roving  fan- 
cy; of  imaginary  wants;  of  unsanctified 
wishes.  "  Dearly  beloved,  I  beseech  you,  as 
strangers  and  pilgrims,  abstain  from  fleshly 
lusts,  which  war  against  the  soul."  "  They 
that  are  Christ's,  have  crucified  the  flesh, 
with  the  affections  and  lusts." 

Men  and  Brethren  ! — We  have  forbidden 
you  to  seek  after  temporal  things  with  too 
much  solicitude — but  remember,  it  is  far 
otherwise  with  regard  to  divine  concerns. 
Spiritual  blessings  suit  the  soul;  afford  real 
satisfaction ;  secure  the  friendship  of  God ; 
endure  for  ever — these  are  our  perfection. 
Here  we  cannot  be  too  earnest,  too  ambi- 
tious, too  covetous.  "  Open  thy  mouth  wide, 
and  I  will  fill  it."  "  Ask  and  receive,  that 
your  joy  may  be  full." — "  And  this  I  pray : 
that  your  love  may  abound  yet  more  and 
more,  in  knowledge,  and  in  all  judgment : 
that  ye  may  approve  things  that  are  excel- 
lent :  that  ye  may  be  sincere  and  without  of- 


fence till  the  day  of  Christ;  being  filled  with 
the  fruits  of  righteousness,  which  are  by  Je- 
sus Christ  unto  the  glory  and  praise  of  God." 


SERMON  XIV. 


HOPE. 

Jlnd  hope  maketh  not  ashamed;  because  the 
love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts,  by 
the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  unto  us. — Ro- 
mans v.  5. 

The  Christian  never  finds  this  world  to  be 
his  rest.  He  is  called  to  a  life  of  labour  and 
difficulty ;  of  mortification  and  reproach  ;  and 
his  afflictions  are  many.  But  he  possesses 
one  incomparable  advantage :  he  has  a  hope 
full  of  immortality.  This  renders  every  duty 
delightful :  this  teaches  him,  in  whatsoever 
state  he  is,  therewith  to  be  content :  this  en- 
lightens his  darkness,  and  alleviates  his  sor- 
row. Like  a  helmet  of  salvation,  it  guards 
his  head  in  the  day  of  battle.  Like  an  anchor 
of  the  soul,  it  holds  and  secures  him  in  the 
storms  of  adversity.  Like  a  pleasing  compa- 
nion, it  travels  with  him  through  all  the  te- 
diousness  of  the  wilderness,  and  often  reminds 
him  of  his  removal  from  this  vale  of  tears  to 
the  rest  that  remains  for  the  people  of  God. 
— He  is  saved  by  hope. — He  rejoices  in 
hope. — 

Of  this  hope  the  Apostle  speaks,  in  the 
words  which  we  have  read;  and  his  language 
is  peculiarly  worthy  of  our  attention.  "  And 
hope  maketh  not  ashamed;  because  the  love 
of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  th*e  Ho- 
ly Ghost  which  is  given  unto  us."  Let  us 
consider  the  excellency,  and  the  evidence  of 
this  hope. — Let  us,  I.  Shew  how  it  pre- 
serves from  shame  ;  and,  II.  Ascertain  its 
connexion  with  the  love  of  God. 

Part  I.  It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  upon 
the  nature  of  hope — it  is  a  pleasing  expecta- 
tion of  some  future  attainable  good.  But  a 
commendation  is  here  given  it,  which  it  will 
be  useful  for  us  to  examine.  It  maketh  not 
ashamed.  We  may  take  three  views  of  it. 
We  may  oppose  it  to  the  hope  of  the  world- 
ling; the  hope  of  the  Pharisee;  and  the  hope 
of  the  Antinomian.  Hope  causes  shame,  by 
the  insufficiency  of  its  object — and  this  is 
the  hope  of  the  Worldling  ;  by  the  weak- 
ness of  its  foundation — and  this  is  the  hope 
of  the  Pharisee  ;  by  the  falseness  of  its 
warrant — and  this  is  the  hope  of  the  Anti- 
nomian.— The  hope  of  the  Christian  has  the  no- 
blest object,  the  surest  foundation — the  clear- 
est warrant :  and,  with  regard  to  each  of  these, 
it  maketh  not  ashamed. 

First.  Hope  may  cause  shame  by  the  in- 
sufficiency of  its  object — and  such  is  the 
hope  of  the  worldling.  And  here  we  are 
not  going  to  observe  how  frequently  "  the  men 
of  the  world"  never  reach  the  mark  and  ob- 
tain the  prize  for  which  they  run.    We  allow 


SERMON  XIV. 


them  to  be  successful ;  and  only  call  upon  you 
to  witness  their  disappointment  when  their 
expectations  are  accomplished.  For  what 
have  they  gained,  to  reward  their  toil,  and  to 
indemnify  them  for  the  sacrifices  they  have 
made  J  As  they  examine  the  acquisition  which 
they  so  much  overvalued,  sec  how  they  blush ; 
hear  how  they  exclaim,  "  Vanity  of  vanities ! 
all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit!" 

"  In  vain  we  seek  a  heaven  below  the  sky. 
The  world  has  false  hut  flattering  charms : 
Its  distant  joys  shew  big  in  our  esteem, 
But  lessen  still  as  they  draw  near  the  eye ; 
In  our  embrace,  the  visions  die ; 
And  when  we  grasp  the  airy  forms, 
We  lose  the  pleasing  dream." 

Look  forward,  and  see  the  worldling  called 
to  strip  and  die.  See  him  laying  down  all  his 
honours,  all  his  riches  on  the  side  of  the 
grave;  bidding  farewell  to  every  scene  his 
soul  held  dear,  and  entering  the  eternal 
world  destitute.  Now  thought  can  no  longer 
be  diverted:  every  disguise  drops  oft". — 
Now  he  forms  a  true  estimate  of  things — 
And  what  does  he  think  of  those  objects  for 
which  he  deprived  himself  of  rest,  and  racked 
himself  with  anxieties'! — for  which  he  disre- 
garded the  calls  of  religion,  and  abandoned 
the  prospect  of  endless  life  ? — what  does  he 
think  of  them  now  they  are  fled,  for  ever  fled  1 
— and  have  left  him  without  resource  1  What 
does  Alexander  now  think  of  his  bloody  tro- 
phies !  What  does  Herod  now  think  of  killing 
James,  and  condemning  Peter,  because  he 
saw  "  it  pleased  the  people  !"  What  does  Ju- 
das think  of  his  thirty  pieces  of  silver  7  They 
are  all  covered  with  confusion,  and  filled  with 
contempt. 

But  let  us  view  them  in  their  present  cir- 
cumstances. Here,  they  are  in  their  best  es- 
tate :  they  have  their  portion  in  this  life. 
Here,  the  crowned  votaries  of  the  world  seem 
to  be  happy,  and  they  are  envied  by  all  around 
them.  They  are  envied — but  it  is  only  by 
the  foolish  and  the  ignorant,  who  know  them 
not.  They  seem  indeed  to  be  happy — but  pe- 
netrate through  the  glory  which  surrounds 
them — and  look  within — and  you  will  find  them 
harassed  with  doubts;  agitated  with  fears;  a 
prey  to  evil  passions ;  "  a  troubled  sea  when  it 
cannot  rest,  whose  waves  cast  up  mire  and  dirt." 
Could  you  approach  them  in  those  moments 
in  which  the  delusions  of  imagination  give 
place  to  the  remonstrances  of  conscience  and 
reason,  you  would  hear  them  confessing — 
"  All  this  is  important  only  in  the  eyes  of 
strangers.  They  gaze  on  the  exhibition  and 
admire — but  we  are  behind  the  scenes,  and 
view  the  naked  ropes  and  pulleys.  We  are 
not  happy ;  nor  is  it  in  the  power  of  these 
things  to  satisfy  our  desires.  In  all  this  dis- 
sipation, we  never  taste  a  drop  of  pure  joy. 
The  friendship  of  the  world  is  worse  than  no- 
thing. We  do  not  follow  these  vanities — we 
are  dragged  after  them.  Our  life  is  bondage — 
O  that  we  were  free  indeed  ! — ah  !  ye  righ- 


teous, you  alone  have  liberty  and  peace.  Hap- 
piness is  only  to  be  found  in  a  deliverance  from 
the  present  evil  world.  We  will  retire :  we 
will  reform :  we  will  seek  a  better,  even  a 
heavenly  country." 

Yes ;  tell  me,  you  who  have  made  the 
world  your  hope,  what  has  it  done  for  you  7 
In  the  many  years  you  have  devoutly  served 
it,  how  much  has  it  advanced  your  happiness? 
What  have  your  pleasures  and  satisfactions 
been,  compared  with  your  regrets  and  dis- 
gusts !  How  soon,  when  lulled  to  sleep,  have 
your  charming  dreams  vanished,  and  your 
waking  disquietudes  tormented  you  again  ! 
At  the  moment  of  my  address — are  you  hap- 
py"! Do  you  fear  nothing'!  desire  nothing] 
Are  you  not  asking,  in  language  with  which 
you  commenced  your  career  twenty,  forty 
years  ago,  Who  will  shew  me  any  good  7  Do 
you  not  shun  solitude  and  retirement'!  Are 
you  not  afraid  of  reflection  ?  Do  you  not  flee 
from  one  company  and  amusement  to  another, 
to  get  rid  of  yourselves  7  Do  you  never  envy 
the  happiness  of  the  brutes  ?  Are  you  stran- 
gers to  a  wish  that  you  had  never  been  born  ? 
— And  if  this  be  the  case  with  regard  to  all 
your  good  things,  what  do  you  think  of  your 
evil  ones  7  Having  no  support  in  the  day  of 
adversity,  you  must  sink.  Having  no  diver- 
sion, you  cannot  escape  the  scourge  of  your 
own  mind ;  and  conscience,  free  from  re- 
straints, will  be  able  to  take  a  dreadful  blow. 
— Such  is  your  present  condition.  You  are 
as  certain  of  disappointment  in  this  world  as 
in  the  world  to  come :  and  when  you  appear 
before  God  in  judgment,  you  will  not  be 
heard  to  lament  that  all  your  enjoyments  are 
over,  that  your  happiness  is  ended  and  your 
misery  begun.  No.  You  will  not  say, 
"  Our  happiness  is  ended" — but  "  we  never 
were  happy :  our  misery  is  begun — we  al- 
ways were  miserable — we  found  the  way  as 
well  as  the  end  of  transgressors  hard  ;  and,  by 
a  wretched  time,  we  prepared  ourselves  only 
for  a  more  wretched  eternity." 

On  this  dark  ground  we  bring  forward  the 
Christian  to  advantage.  The  object  of  his 
hope  is  the  greatest  good  a  creature  can  pos- 
sess ;  and  while  in  every  thing  else  the  ex- 
pectation exceeds  the  reality,  in  this  the  real- 
ity infinitely  surpassesthe  expectation.  When 
we  propose  the  hope  of  the  Christian,  we  ex- 
clude every  evil  we  feel  or  fear ;  every  im- 
perfection which  degrades  or  grieves  us.  It 
is  "  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens ;"  it  is  "  a  city  which  hath  foun- 
dations, whose  builder  and  whose  maker  is 
God ;"  it  is  "  a  kingdom  which  cannot  be  shak- 
en;" it  is  "a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not 
away."  Think  of  the  company  with  which 
he  will  associate — all  the  truly  wise  and  good : 
"  the  innumerable  company  of  angels  ;"  "  the 
Lord  of  all,"  in  whose  "  presence  there  is  ful- 
ness of  joy,  and  at  whose  right  hand  there  are 
pleasures  for  evermore."    Take  his  body :  it 


H4 


SERMON  XIV. 


is  now  vile;  but  it  shall  be  changed  and 
fashioned  like  the  glorious  body  of  the  Sa- 
viour— think  of  the  body  of  the  Son  of  God :  a 
body  to  bo  worn  by  the  Judge  of  all  when  he 
sits  upon  his  throne ;  a  body  in  which  he  will 
be  for  ever  adored.  This  is  the  model  to 
which  the  Christian  will  be  conformed.  And 
after  all,  this  is  only  the  inferior  part  of  him : 
this  is  only  the  dwelling — what  will  the  in- 
habitant be !  this  is  only  the  instrument — 
what  will  the  agent  be !  however  refined  and 
subtilized,  this  is  only  matter — what  will  the 
spirit  be!  "It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be  ;  but  this  we  know,  that  when  he  shall 
appear  we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see 
him  as  he  is."  Such  is  his  hope,  and  it 
"  maketh  not  ashamed."  His  understanding 
does  not  reproach  him  for  pursuing  such  a 
prize.  He  does  not  blush  to  avow  his  pur- 
pose to  the  world.  He  does  not  shrink  from 
a  comparison  with  philosophers,  princes,  he- 
roes. He  leads  asublimerlife:  he  has  taken  a 
grander  aim. — And  when  he  has  acquired  this 
blessedness,  will  he  be  ashamed  that  he  so  high- 
ly valued  it,  and  that  to  gain  it  he  was  wil- 
ling to  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross'! 
No ;  rather,  if  shame  could  enter  heaven,  he 
would  be  ashamed  to  think — that  it  made  so 
feeble  an  impression  upon  his  mind;  that  it 
engrossed  so  little  of  his  attention ;  that, 
with  such  a  happiness  in  prospect,  he  should 
ever  have  walked  mournfully  before  the  Lord ; 
and  that,  with  such  a  prize  suspended  before 
him,  he  should  ever  have  been  so  sluggish 
in  his  endeavours  to  seize  it. 

Secondly.  Hope  may  cause  shame  by  the 

WEAKNESS  OP  ITS  FOUNDATION  and   SUCh  is 

the  hope  of  the  self-righteous  Pharisee. 
For  on  what  does  he  place  his  dependence 
but  something  of  his  own — his  own  worthi- 
ness, or  his  own  works? — And  here  we  may 
observe,  first,  that  what  he  relies  on  does  not 
come  up  to  the  nature  of  genuine  religion, 
but  is  something  merely  ritual,  ceremonious,' 
external,  in  which  the  heart  has  no  concern. 
He  derives  his  encouragement  from  negative 
qualities,  from  comparison  of  himself  with 
others,  from  the  number  of  his  performances, 
from  the  balancing  of  duty  with  omissions, 
and  of  virtue  with  vice.  "  And  the  Pharisee 
stood,  and  prayed  thus  with  himself:  God,  I 
thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are, 
— extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as 
this  Publican.  I  fast  twice  in  the  week ;  I 
give  tithes  of  all  that  I  possess."  Secondly, 
if  the  works  he  pleads  were  in  their  princi- 
ples truly  spiritual  and  holy,  they  would  not 
afford  a  ground  of  dependence.  They  would 
be  a  part  of  the  building,  but  could  not  be  the 
foundation.  They  would  furnish  us  with  evi- 
dence, but  could  not  give  us  a  title.  Thirdly, 
the  indulgence  of  such  a  hope' is  even  crimi- 
nal, and  highly  offensive  to  God.  While  he 
seeks  to  obtain  a  right  to  eternal  life  by  his 
own  obedience,  he  is  seeking  salvation  by  the 


works  of  the  law,  and  not  by  the  faith  of  Jesus 
Christ :  accordingly,  he  opposes  the  whole 
design  of  the  Gospel  dispensation ;  robs  God 
of  his  peculiarglory ;  reflects  upon  his  wisdom, 
as  having  been  employed  in  a  needless  trifle ; 
contemns  his  authority  in  commanding  us  to 
believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  denies  his 
truth  in  the  record  which  he  has  given  of  his 
Son ;  frustrates  his  grace,  and  makes  Jesus 
Christ  to  be  dead  in  vain.  He  disregards 
the  love  and  mercy  of  the  Saviour,  tramples 
under  foot  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  and 
views  his  righteousness  and  his  sufferings  as 
wholly  unnecessary,  or  as  only  an  addition  to 
supply  a  deficiency.  Therefore,  fourthly, 
such  a  hope  can  never  secure  him  from  shame. 
It  will  be  found  "like  a  spider's  web;"  curi- 
ously wrought,  but  easily,  irreparably  destroy- 
ed. The  basis  being  too  weak,  the  super- 
structure falls,  and  crushes  him  as  a  fool  and 
an  offender — guilty  in  his  very  ruin.  "  Too 
proud,"  says  God,  "  to  submit  to  my  righ- 
teousness, you  shall  appear  before  me  in  your 
own.  Refusing  the  Gospel,  you  shall  be  tried 
by  the  Law  to  which  you  have  appealed. 
Unable  to  save  yourselves,  I  devised  a  method 
of  salvation  :  I  revealed  it — but  this  you  have 
despised,  and  have  sought  another — Walk  in 
the  light  of  your  own  fire,  and  in  the  sparks 
that  ye  have  kindled :  This  shall  ye  have  of 
mine  hand;  ye  shall  lie  down  in  sorrow." 

— Now  see  the  awakened,  humbled  sinner. 
He  is  asking,  "  How  shall  man  be  just  with 
God  J"  "  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the 
Lord  ?"  "  Where  can  I  safely  rest  a  hope  that 
maketh  not  ashamed  }"  These  inquiries  lead 
him  to  the  Bible — and  he  soon  finds  the  inform- 
ation he  wants.  "  The  Son  of  man  is  come, 
to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.  It 
hath  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him  should  all 
fulness  dwell.  He  hath  made  us  accepted  in 
the  Beloved.  He  is  the  end  of  the  law  for 
righteousness  to  every  one  that  believeth.  By 
him,  all  that  believe  are  justified  freely  from 
all  things" — This  is  like  cold  water  to  a 
thirsty  soul.  This  attracts  him  ;  this  deter- 
mines the  course  of  his  application.  "In  him 
will  I  trust.  He  is  the  door;  by  him  will  I 
enter.  He  is  the  only  refuge ;  in  him  I  will 
hide.  There  is  no  other,  and  I  desire  no 
other  foundation  ;  and  on  this  will  I  build.  I 
love  obedience,  I  pray  for  gratitude ;  but  I  ab- 
hor the  thought  of  merit.  When  I  liave  done 
all,  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant.  Sin  mixes 
with  all  1  do.  I  must  relinquish  every  other 
confidence :  I  have  no  medium  between  this 
reliance  and  despair." 

Now  this  hope  cannot  deceive  him  :  it  is  as 
firm  as  the  truth  of  God  and  the  all-suffi- 
ciency of  the  Saviour  can  make  it.  "  Be- 
hold," says  God,  "  I  lay  in  Zion  a  stumbling- 
stone  and  rock  of  offence ;  and  whosoever  be- 
lieveth on  him  shall  not  be  ashamed."  In 
proportion  as  the  faith  of  the  believer  in- 
creases, he  partakes  of  this  assurance,  and  can 


SERMON  XIV. 


85 


6ay,  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed,  and 
am  persuaded  that  lie  is  able  to  keep  that 
which  I  have  committed  to  him  against  that 
day."  See  him  advancing  to  the  throne  of 
God — "  Who  is  he  that  condenmeth  J  It  is 
Christ  that  died."  Who  can  hinder  his  ap- 
proach !  He  is  seen  marked  with  "the  blood 
of  sprinkling;"  he  is  heard  making  mention 
of  His  righteousness  only. — 

"  All  joy  to  the  believer !  He  can  speak— 
Trembling,  yet  happy  ;  confident,  yet  meek. 
Since  the  dear  hour  that  brought  me  to  thy  foot 
And  cut  up  all  my  follies  by  the  root, 
I  never  trusted  in  an  arm  but  thine, 
Nor  hoped  but  in  thy  righteousness  divine. 
My  pravers  and  alms,  imperfect  and  defiled, 
Were  but  the  feeble  efforts  of  a  child. 
Howe'er  performed,  it  was  their  brighter  part 
That  they  proceeded  from  a  thankful  heart: 
Cleansed  in  thine  own  all-purifying  blood, 
Forgive  their  evil,  and  accept  their  good  : 
I  cast  them  at  thy  feet — my  only  plea 
Is  what  it  was — dependence  upon  thee — 
While  struggling  in  the  vale  of  tears  below, 
That  never  fa i I'd — nor  shall  it  fail  me  now. 

Angelic  cratulations  rend  the  skies; 
Pride  falls  unpity'd,  never  more  to  rise  ; 
Humility  is  crown'd ;  and  faith  receives  the  prize." 

Thirdly.  Hope  may  cause  shame  by  the 
falseness  of  its  warrant — and  such  is  the 
hope  of  the  Antinomian.  How  dreadful  will 
it  be  "  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God," 
while  we  are  imagining  ourselves  to  be  his 
friends :  to  suppose  ourselves  in  the  road  to 
heaven,  and  drop  at  once  into  the  depths  of 
hell !  "  There  is  a  way  which  seemeth  right 
unto  a  man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the  paths 
of  death."  And  in  this  way  all  those  are 
walking,  who,  while  they  profess  to  expect 
eternal  life,  and  to  place  all  their  dependence 
upon  the  Saviour,  "  have  not  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,"  and  are  devoid  of  his  image:  whose 
faith  does  not  overcome  the  world ;  whose 
hope  does  not  purify  them  "  even  as  He  is 
pure."  For  while  in  this  state,  their  expec- 
tation of  heaven,  whatever  be  their  knowledge 
or  their  creed,  is  a  mere  fancy.  A  man,  with 
all  his  ignorance,  may  as  well  persuade  him- 
self that  he  is  the  greatest  philosopher ;  or, 
with  all  his  indigence,  may  as  rationally  con- 
clude that  he  is  possessed  of  all  the  wealth  of 
the  Indies;  as  persons  imagine,  that  they  are 
in  a  fair  way  for  glory,  while  they  are  stran- 
gers to  real  sanctification  and  "  newness  of 
life." 

There  is  nothing  in  the  Scripture  that  does 
not  condemn  such  a  hope.  It  assures  us,  that 
"  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord ;" 
and  that  except  we  "  be  converted,  antFbe— 
come  as  little  children,"  we  "  shall  in  no  case 
enter  the  kingdom  of  God."  Hence  our  Sa- 
viour, by  a  very  striking  similitude,  holds  forth 
the  folly  of  leaning  on  any  thing  as  a  proof 
of  our  state,  separate  from  holy  obedience. 
"  Whosoever  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine, 
and  doetii  them,  I  will  liken  him  unto  a  wise 
man,  who  built  his  house  upon  a  rock :  and 
the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods  came,  and 
the  winds  blew  and  beat  upon  that  house ;  and 


it  fell  not,  for  it  was  founded  upon  a  rock. 
And  every  one  that  heareth  these  sayings  of 
mine,  and  doeth  them  not,  shall  be  likened 
unto  a  foolish  man,  who  built  his  house  upon 
the  sand :  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the 
floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew  and  beat  upon 
that  house ;  and  it  fell,  and  great  was  the  fall 
of  it." 

And,  indeed,  to  take  another  view  of  the 
subject,  it  would  be  perfectly  useless  to  give 
such  a  man  a  title  to  glory,  and  even  to  bring 
him  there — For  he  would  be  miserable  still : 
he  would  carry  hell  along  with  him  in  his  sin : 
he  would  have  no  capacity  for  the  services,  no 
relish  for  the  enjoyments  of  heaven — God 
himself  cannot  do  that  which  contradicts  the 
essential  perfections  of  his  nature ;  and  he 
cannot  make  us  happy  with  himself  till  he  has 
made  us  holy  like  himself.  "  For  what  fellow- 
ship hath  righteousness  with  unrighteousness"? 
and  what  communion  hath  light  with  dark- 
ness?" Thus  the  very  nature  of  things,  as 
well  as  the  word  of  God,  necessarily  limits 
this  hope  to  the  regenerate  and  sanctified. 
And  therefore  the  grand  inquiry  should  be — 
what  evidence  you  have  of  this  change,  and 
what  reason  you  are  able  to  give  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  you "!  A  more  convincing  and  satis- 
factory one  it  is  impossible  to  assign,  than  the 
Apostle  furnishes — 

Part  II.  When  he  tells  us,  "  Hope  maketh 
not  ashamed ;  because  the  love  of  God  is 

SHED  ABROAD  IN  OUR  HEARTS  BY  THE  HoLY 

Ghost,  which  is  given  unto  us."  Let  us 
examine  the  connection  there  is  between  this 
love,  and  the  accomplishment  of  our  hope. 
The  following  considerations  will  render  it  ob- 
vious. 

First.  This  love  is  the  blessed  proof  of  the 
Divine  regard — for  the  affection  is  mutual : 
"  I  love  them  that  love  me;" — yea,  our  love 
to  him  is  the  consequence  of  his  love  to  us : 
"  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love  ; 
therefore  with  loving  kindness  have  I  drawn 
thee.  We  love  him  because  he  first  loved  us." 
And  what  can  we  desire  more,  than  to  know 
we  are  beloved  of  God  ?  What  does  not  his 
friendship  insure  ?  With  Him,  there  is  no  va- 
riableness, or  shadow  of  turning.  He  is  able 
to  do  for  us  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 
that  we  ask  or  think.  He  knoweth  all  things. 
He  is  very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy. 

Secondly.  This  love  characterizes  the  per- 
sons for  whom  this  happiness  is  reserved. 
Seaxcb.  the  Scriptures,  and  see  who  areauthor- 
ized  to  claim  the  promise  of  eternal  life — 
Not  those,  who  are  enemies  to  God  by  wicked 
works — not  those  who  live  without  God  in  the 
world — No:  but  those,  and  those  only,  who 
desire,  and  strive  to  please  and  to  serve  Him 
— "  We  know  that  all  things  work  together 
for  good  to  them  that  love  God."  "  Blessed 
is  the  man  thatendureth  temptation ;  for  when 
he  is  tried,  he  shall  receive  the  crown  of  life, 
which  the  Lord  hath  promised  to  them  that 


86 


SERMON  XIV. 


love  him."  "Hath  not  God  chosen  the  poor 
of  this  world,  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the 
kingdom  which  he  hath  promised  to  them  that 
love  him]" 

Thirdly.  This  love  qualifies  us  for  the  glo- 
ry which  shall  be  revealed.  Take  a  proper  i 
view  of  this  happiness.  Is  it  not  divine  1  < 
Does  it  not  flow  from  the  presence  of  God '! 
from  the  display  of  his  perfections'!  from  the 
adorations  and  praises  which  he  will  eternal- 
ly receive  ? — What  then  can  prepare  you  for 
it  but  the  love  of  God !  If  you  do  not  love  a 
person,  it  would  be  a  torment  rather  than  a 
delight  to  be  continually  with  him,  and  to 
hear  him  extolled.  But  the  stronger  the  love 
is  which  you  bear  to  another,  the  more  plea- 
sure you  feel  in  his  company  and  conversa- 
tion, the  more  satisfaction  you  derive  from  the 
share  you  have  in  his  regards,  and  from  the 
confidence  which  enables  you  to  say,  he  is 
mine.  By  loving  God,  you  are  prepared  for  a 
happiness  which  is  found  only  in  him.  And 
has  he  made  you  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light  1 — and  will 
he  fail  to  give  you  possession  \  Has  he  quali- 
fied you  for  a  situation  which  you  shall  never 
fill  \  and  prepared  you  for  a  blessedness  which 
he  never  designed  you  to  experience? 

Fourthly.  This  love  is  indeed  the  beginning, 
and  the  foretaste  of  this  happiness.  We  are  al- 
ways the  same  with  the  object  of  our  affec- 
tion. The  image  dwelling  in  the  mind,  leaves 
its  impression.  We  take  the  likeness  of  the 
excellency  we  contemplate,  and  are  exalted 
into  the  perfection  we  adore.  If  our  love  be 
fixed  upon  any  thing  mean  and  sordid,  it  will 
debase  us.  If  it  be  fixed  upon  creatures,  we 
shall  partake  of  their  changes  and  miseries. 
If  it  be  fixed  on  the  ever-blessed  God,  we  shall 
become  divine  and  heavenly ;  it  will  dignify, 
and  refine,  and  tranquillize,  and  fill,  and  satis- 
fy the  soul.  With  this  love,  we  cannot  be  mise- 
rable. It  renders  difficult  things  easy,  and 
bitter  ones  sweet.  It  makes  the  duties  of  re- 
ligion to  be  "  ways  of  pleasantness."  We 
call  "  the  sabbath  a  delight."  We  are  glad 
when  they  say  to  us,  "  Let  us  go  into  the 
house  of  the  Lord."  It  is  good  for  us  "  to 
draw  near  to  God."  O  the  "  comforts  of  this 
love  !"  They  are  heaven  come  down  to  earth 
— Heaven  is  the  world  of  love — There  it 
breathes ;  there  it  reigns ;  there  it  triumphs. 
It  is  all  love,  and  only  love — "  And  he  that 
dwelleth  in  love,  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in 
him."  Hence  it  fully  appears,  that  a  hope 
connected  with  the  love  of  God,  may  be  safe- 
ly indulged,  and  can  never  make  us  ashamed. 
For  this  love  is  the  proof  of  the  Divine  favour 
— the  character  of  the  heirs  of  promise — the 
preparation  for  future  glory — the  commence- 
ment of  heaven,  the  dawning  of  the  day,  the 
first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  the  earnest  of  our  in- 
heritance.— 

Men  and  Brethren,  attend  to  a  few  reflec- 
tions, which  naturally  arise  from  this  impor- 


tant subject.    The  first  is  awful  and  distress- 
ing.   We  have  reason  to  fear  that  the  hope 
cherished  by  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  and 
by  too  many  professors  of  religion,  is  such  as 
will  cover  them  "  with  everlasting  shame  and 
contempt." — Perhaps  there  are  some  of  this 
deluded  number  in  this  assembly.    You  are 
ready  to  say — "  Our  minds  are  easy — we  feelf 
no  forebodings — we  hope  to  be  saved,  and  are 
not  inclined  to  question  the  propriety  of  out] 
conclusion."    Even  this  circumstance  looks 
suspicious.    This  reluctance  to  examine  your 
state  betrays  apprehension  of  its  goodness. 
And  who,  in  a  case  of  such  moment,  would 
leave  things  doubtful  and  uncertain  3  Suffer 
me  then  to  ask  you  what  your  hope  is  1  Will 
it  bear  investigation  !  Is  it  sanctioned  by  the 
word  of  truth 3  Has  it  been  formed  in  the 
light  of  conviction,  or  is  it  the  offspring  of 
darkness  J  Is  there  no  danger  of  its  proving 
false  and  fatal  7 — Such  the  hope  must  prove, 
that  is  accompanied  with  no  suitable  influence, 
productive   of  no  proper  effects — in  other 
words,  that  is  not  in  alliance  with  the  love  of 
God.    But,  alas  !  if  the  love  of  God  was  in 
you,  it  would  be  impossible  for  you  to  live  as 
you  now  do.    You  could  not  banish  Him  from 
your  remembrance ;  your  meditation  of  Him 
would  be  sweet,  and  your  thoughts  of  Him 
would  be  precious.    You  could  not  love  the 
world  ;  "  for  if  any  man  love  the  world,  the 
love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him."    You  could 
not  transgress  the  divine  laws :  "  for  this  is 
the  love  of  God,  that  we  keep  his  command- 
ments."   You  could  not  be  regardless  of  the 
welfare  of  your  fellow-creatures:  for  "if  a 
man  say,  I  love  God,  and  hateth  his  brother, 
he  is  a  liar  ;  for  he  that  loveth  not  his  brother 
whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he  love  God 
whom  he  hath  not  seen  ]"  "  Whoso  hath  this 
world's  good,  and  seeth  his  brother  have  need, 
and  shutteth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from 
him,  how  dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  him  1" 
Destitute  of  the  love  of  God,  it  matters  not 
what  you  are — If  this  be  not  the  grand  influ- 
encing principle  of  your  lives,  your  orthodoxy 
is  only  a  December's  night,  equally  clear  and 
cold ;  your  religion  is  vain ;  your  hope  pre- 
sumption, delusion,  destruction. 

Secondly.    You  may  learn,  from  hence, 
how  to  attain  "  the  full  assurance  of  hope  un- 
to the  end."    It  is  not  by  dreams  and  visions, 
sudden  suggestions,  mysterious  impressions,* 
and  an  inexplicable  consciousness — but  by  . 
keeping  yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  and  I 
abounding  therein  more  and  more.    It  is  ab-  j 
surd  to  imagine  that  your  hope  of  heaven  will 
be  lively,  if  your  love  of  God  be  weak  and  lan- 
guid.   Every  worldly  conformity  will  impede 
the  exercise,  and  darken  the  prospect  of  this 
hope ;  every  sin  will  give  Satan  an  advantage 
over  you,  and  rob  you  of  much  evidence  and 
consolation.    Though  the  blessings  of  salva- 
tion are  all  of  grace,  they  are  to  be  enjoined 
•  only  in  the  way  of  obedience.    "  Then  6hall 


SERMON  XV. 


we  know,  if  we  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord. 
His  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the  morning  : 
and  he  shall  come  unto  us  as  the  rain,  as  the 
latter  and  the  former  rain  upon  the  earth." 
He  that  hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth 
them,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me  :  and  he  that 
loveth  me  shall  be  loved  of  my  Father ;  and  I 
will  love  him,  and  manifest  myself  to  him." 

Thirdly.  There  are  some  of  you,  in  whose 
hearts  the  Holy  Ghost  has  shed  abroad  the 
love  of  God.  By  a  display  of  infinite  benevo- 
lence, he  has  slain  the  enmity  of  your  minds, 
enlightened  your  understandings,  and  renew- 
ed your  dispositions.  It  is  now  your  chief  aim 
to  please  and  to  enjoy  him.  And  your  lan- 
guage is,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee, 
and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  be- 
side thee !  The  Lord  is  my  portion,  saith  my 

»  SOul  J  THEREFORE  WILL  I  HOPE  IN  HlM,  " 

|  Yes — and  you  have  reason  to  do  so.  Let  the 
exercise  of  this  hope  be  constant  and  increas- 
ing. Though  you  have  much  in  possession, 
you  have  infinitely  more  in  reversion.  In 
,  whatever  sense  you  are  poor,  in  one  you  are 
I  certainly  rich — Hope.  From  the  emptiness 
of  the  creature  you  can  turn  to  the  fulness  of 
the  Word,  and  say,  "  Thy  testimonies  have  I 
taken  as  my  heritage  for  ever,  for  they  are 
the  rejoicing  of  my  heart."  You  have  now 
the  supplies  of  minority,  and  in  a  little  while 
you  will  be  "  Lord  of  all." — Give  vigour  and 
scope  to  this  principle,  in  all  the  circum- 
stances which  can  awaken  thy  concern.  Hope 
for  strength  equal  to  thy  day.  Hope  for  suc- 
cour in  trouble ;  for  assistance  in  duty ;  for 
nelp  in  death.  Hope  for  a  joyful  resurrection, 
a  blessed  immortality,  a  crown  of  glory  that 
fadeth  not  away.    "  Now  the  God  of  hope 

FILL  YOU  WITH  ALL  JOY  AND  PEACE  IN  BELIEV- 
ING, THAT  YOU  M  AY  ABOUND  IN  HOPE,  THROUGH 
THE  POWER  OF  THE  HOLY  GlIOST. 


SERMON  XV. 


THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  TWO  SONS. 

What  think  ye?  A  certain  man  had  two  sons. 
And  he  came  to  the  first,  and  said,  Son,  go 
■work  to-day  in  my  vineyard :  lie  answered 
and  said,  I  -will  not  ;  but  afterward  he  repent- 
ed, and  went.  And  he  came  to  the  second,  and 
said  likewise :  and  he  answered  and  said,  I 
go.  Sir ;  and  went  not.  Whether  of  them 
twain  did  the  will  of  his  father  ?  They  say 
unto  him,  the  first. — Matthew  xxi.  28 — 38. 

My  Brethren,  it  is  no  very  easy  thing  to 
lodge  an  obnoxious  truth  in  a  mind  armed 
with  prejudice.  "Lovers  of  themselves," 
men  are  averse  to  the  knowledge  of  their  im- 
perfections, and  remain  "  willingly  ignorant" 
ofdiscoveries  which  would  interrupt  their  pur- 
suits, or  disturb  their  slumbers.  Hence  the 
wise  have  contrived  a  species  of  instruction, 
by  which  they  conceal  their  design,  till  the 
sentiment  they  wish  to  convey  has  taken  pos- 


session of  the  mind.  Then  they  strip  off  the 
disguise,  and  exhibit  their  meaning :  and  the 
man  finds,  to  his  surprise  and  confusion,  that 
he  has  admitted  a  conclusion  which  criminates 
himself,  and  that  out  of  his  own  mouth  he  is 
condemned.  He  is  led  on  unconsciously, 
step  by  step,  till  he  finds  his  retreat  cut  off, 
and  he  is  compelled  to  surrender. 

He  who  "  spake  as  never  man  spake,"  ex- 
celled in  this  as  well  as  in  every  other  mode 
of  tuition.  A  memorable  instance  is  now  be- 
fore us — His  adversaries  had  asked  our  Sa- 
viour, by  what  authority  he  had  commenced 
reformer,  and  had  purified  the  temple. — 
He  engages  to  satisfy  them,  provided  they 
will  answer  him  one  question ;  namely, 
Whence  John  derived  his  authority  to  preach 
and  baptize]  They  found  themselves  equally 
in  a  dilemma,  whether  they  acknowledged  the 
origin  to  be  human  or  divine — "  If  we  shall 
say,  from  Heaven,  he  will  say  unto  us,  why 
then  did  ye  not  believe  him!  But  if  we  shall 
say,  of  men,  we  fear  the  people ;  for  all  hold 
John  as  a  prophet."  Hence  they  affect  igno- 
rance, and  remain  silent.  Our  Saviour  per- 
ceiving their  perverseness,  refuses  their  in- 
quiry ;  and,  by  a  familiar  representation,  in- 
duces them  to  pass  judgment  on  themselves. 
"  But  what  think  ye  1  A  certain  man  had  two 
sons.  And  he  came  to  the  first  and  said,  Son, 
go  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard :  he  answered 
and  said,  I  will  not ;  but  afterward  he  repent- 
ed, and  went.  And  he  came  to  the  second,  and 
said  likewise :  and  he  answered  and  said,  Igo, 
Sir;  and  went  not.  Whether  of  them  twain 
did  the  will  of  his  father  I  They  say  unto  him, 
the  first." 

The  Parable  has  a  particular  application, 
which  may  be  thus  explained.  John  preach- 
ed to  the  Jews.  His  audience  consisted  of 
two  classes :  the  profane,  and  the  pretending. 
Some  among  his  hearers  were  profligate — 
Such  were  the  publicans  and  harlots.  These 
made  no  profession  of  religion :  they  never 
spake  of  the  Messiah,  or  hoped  for  his  king- 
dom. But  when  they  heard  John,  they  re- 
ceived his  doctrine — were  humbled  by  it — 
and  obtained  repentance  and  remission  of  sins. 
Others  were  sanctimonious — Such  were  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees.  They  assumed  extra- 
ordinary appearancesof  devotion,  observed  eve- 
ry punctilio  of  the  law,  wore  a  peculiar  dress, 
used  a  singular  gait,  crucified  their  counte- 
nances, made  long  prayers  and  frequent  fasts, 
gave  tithes  of  all  their  possessions,  and  pre- 
tended a  high  regard  for  the  writings  of  Mo- 
ses and  the  prophets,  who  all  testified  of 
Christ.  But  when  his  forerunner  came,  and 
announced  his  speedy  approach,  they  incon- 
sistently rejected  his  ministry.  Thus  far  we 
cannot  be  mistaken,  for  we  follow  an  infalli- 
ble Guide— "Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Verily,  I 
say  unto  you,  that  the  publicans  and  harlots 
go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you.  For 
John  came  unto  you  in  the  way  of  righteous- 


68 


SERMON  XV. 


ness,  and  ye  believed  him  not;  but  the  publi- 
cans and  harlots  believed  him.  And  ye,  when 
ye  had  seen,  repented  not  afterward,  that  ye 
might  believe  him." 

By  a  more  extensive  allusion,  it  applies  to 
the  Jews  and  the  Gentiles.  The  Gentiles  were 
the  children  of  disobedience:  they  had  lived 
without  God  in  the  world,  and  the  way  of 
peace  had  they  not  known.  But  when  the 
Gospel  was  published  among  them,  they 
"  obeyed  from  the  heart  the  form  of  doctrine 
which  was  delivered  to  them :  and  being 
made  free  from  sin,  they  became  the  servants 
of  righteousness."  The  Jews  from  the  begin- 
ning were  the  professing  people  of  God. 
They  had  never  been  wanting  in  high  pre- 
tensions and  promises.  When  the  Law  was 
given  on  Horeb,  they  exclaimed,  "  All  that 
the  Lord  commandeth  us  will  we  do,  and  be 
obedient."  When  Joshua  addressed  them  in 
Sechem,  they  again  said,  "  The  Lord  our 
God  will  we  serve,  and  his  voice  will  we 
obey" — "  Nevertheless,  they  did  flatter  him 
with  their  mouth,  and  they  lied  unto  him 
with  their  tongues.  For  their  heart  was  not 
right  with  him,  neither  were  they  steadfast  in 
his  covenant." — "  What  shall  we  say  then  1 
That  the  Gentiles,  which  followed  not  after 
righteousness,  have  attained  to  righteousness, 
even  the  righteousness  which  is  of  faith :  but 
Israel,  which  followed  after  the  law  of  righ- 
teousness, hath  not  attained  to  the  law  of  righ- 
teousness. Wherefore  1  Because  they  sought 
it  not  by  faith,  but  as  it  were  by  the  works  of 
the  law;  for  they  stumbled  at  the  stumbling- 
stone  ;  as  it  is  written,  Behold,  I  lay  in  Zion 
a  stumbling-stone,  and  rock  of  offence :  and 
whosoever  believeth  On  him,  shall  not  be  con- 
founded." 

The  similitude  will  stand  as  an  illustration 
of  various  characters  to  the  end  of  time.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  are  going  to  consider  it,  I.  As 

HOLDING  FORTH  THE  COMMAND  OF  GoD  TO  HIS 
CREATURES.  And,  II.  AS  EXEMPLIFYING  THE 
MANNER  IN  WHICH  IT  IS  REGARDED  BY  THEM. 

Part  I.  "  The  Lord  looketh  from  heaven  : 
he  beholdeth  all  the  sons  of  men."  Neither 
as  his  creatures,  or  as  his  subjects,  are  they 
beneath  his  concern.  To  display  his  authori- 
ty and  to  secure  their  welfare,  He  addresses 
them  in  language  appropriate  to  their  circum- 
stances. His  command  is  distinguished  by 
three  characters.    It  is  affectionate — it  is 

PEACTICAL — it  is  URGENT. 

First.  It  is  affectionate.  He  speaks  as 
unto  children — "  My  Son,  go,  work  to-day  in 
my  vineyard."  He  is  the  lovely  Father  of  all 
mankind ;  and  though  sin  has  rendered  us  un- 
worthy of  his  care,  it  has  not  destroyed  our 
relation  to  him.  "  We  have  had  fathers  of 
our  flesh,  who  corrected  us ;  and  we  gave 
them  reverence :  shall  we  not  much  rather 
be  in  subjection  to  the  Father  of  spirits,  and 
live  V  They  were  only  the  instruments  of  our 
existence :  but  to  Him  the  name  belongs  in 


!  all  its  perfection.  "  We  arc  his  offspring ;" 
"  we  are  all  the  work  of  his  hands."  Our 
very  souls  are  his ;  produced  by  his  power, 
and  subject  to  his  agency.  This  is  the  com- 
mon character  given  of  him  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament. Under  this  encouraging  representation 
we  are  taught  to  address  him  in  prayer:  in 
this  tender  relation  we  are  to  view  him  as  dis- 
pensing his  commands.  I  see  the  father  blend- 
ing witli  the  sovereign:  I  see  goodness  ming- 
ling with  authority:  I  obey  from  love:  it  is  a 
Father  I  serve,  and  his  service  is  perfect  free- 
dom. If  He  employ  us  as  children,  he  "knows 
our  frame,  and  will  remember  that  we  are 
dust."  He  will  not  lay  upon  us  more  than  is 
meet :  He  will  be  kind  to  our  infirmities,  and 
spare  us,  as  a  man  spareth  his  own  son  that 
serveth  him.  "  We  have  not  received  the 
spirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear,  but  the  spirit  of 
adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father. 
Wherefore  no  more  a  servant,  but  a  son ;  and 
if  a  son  thou  art  then  an  heir  of  God  through 
Christ." 

Secondly.    It  is  practical.    For  to  what 
does  the  Father  call  him  !  To  "  work  in  his 
vineyard." — I  admire  this  Father.    He  does 
not  bring  up  his  children  in  idleness.  Though 
he  be  a  rich  man,  and  have  a  vineyard  of  his 
own,  he  requires  them  to  labour.    And  "  it  is 
good  for  a  man  to  bear  the  yoke  in  his  youth." 
The  Grand  Seignior  of  Turkey  is  always 
taught   some  mechanical   business.  The 
Jews,  whatever  was  their  rank,  always  gave 
their  sons  some  manual  trade.    Paul  had  a 
learned  education,  and  was  brought  up  at  the 
feet  of  Gamaliel ;  but  he  knew  the  craft  of 
tent-making.   There  was  wisdom  in  this  plan. 
It  preserved  the  young  from  sloth ;  it  rilled 
up  the  vacancies  of  life;  it  prevented  temp- 
tation ;  it  made  them  useful  in  society  ;  it 
furnished  them  with  resource  in  case  of  re- 
duction and  distress.    Adam  was  placed  in  the 
garden  of  Eden  to  dress  it.    The  Son  of  God, 
till  he  assumed  his  public  character,  wrought 
at  the  business  of  a  carpenter.    Heaven  is  all 
energy  and  activity :  "  they  rest  not  day  nor 
night."    It  is  better  to  pursue  the  meanest 
occupation,  and  even  to  be  a  servile  day- 
labourer,  than  to  live  in  idleness,  a  mere 
cumberer  of  the  ground.    Parents !  early  ac- 
custom your  children  to  exertion,  and  difficul- 
ties.   Bring  them  up  idly  and  delicately,  and 
they  are  ruined  for  this  world,  and  the  world 
to  come.    I  equally  pity  and  condemn  that 
father,  who  is  ashamed  or  afraid  to  say  to  a 
son — "Go,  work  in  my  vineyard."  And 
what  think  you  of  God  1  He  assigns  us  our 
place  of  action,  and  prescribes  the  nature  of 
our  employ.  It  is  extensive  and  various.  Our 
diligence  is  to  be  used  in  "  working  out  our 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling."    Sinner ! 
there  is  a  burden  lying  upon  thy  shoulders, 
which,  unless  it  be  removed,  will  sink  thee 
to  the  lowest  hell.  Thou  art  pursued  by  the 
avenger  of  blood,  and  if  overtaken,  thou  wilt 


SERMON  XV. 


89 


assuredly  perish — Thy  first  concern  should 
be  a  deliverance,  a  refuge.  Thy  first  effort 
should  he  an  application  to  Him  who  came 
into  the  world  to  save  sinners.  "  Then  said 
they  unto  him,  What  shall  we  do,  that  we 
might  work  the  works  of  God  ?  Jesus  answer- 
ed and  said  unto  them,  This  is  the  work  of 
God,  that  ye  believe  on  him  whom  he  hath 
sent"  This  is  your  first  care.  And  a  second 
is  like  unto  it — personal  sanctification.  You 
are  called  not  only  to  believe,  but  to  obey  : 
not  to  shew  your  faith  instead  of  your  works, 
but  your  faith  by  your  works. — Many  would 
rather  consider  the  Gospel  as  designed  to 
furnish  a  substitute  for  holiness,  than  as  a 
system  which  requires  piety  and  morality  in 
all  its  parts.  But  how  readest  thou  1  Where 
does  it  promise  a  salvation  in  sin  ?  Where 
does  it  encourage  a  hope  which  leaves  its  pos- 
sessor impure  ?  "  God  has  not  called  us  unto 
uncleanness,  but  unto  holiness.  The  grace 
of  God,  which  bringeth  salvation,  hath  ap- 
peared to  all  men :  teaching  us,  that,  deny- 
ing ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  we  should 
live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly,  in  this 
present  world."  Nor  arc  you  less  required  to 
serve  your  generation  according  to  the  will 
of  God.  "  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself." 
Our  fellow-creatures  have  claims  upon  us. 
We  are  to  "  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice, 
and  weep  with  them  that  weep ;"  to  love  as 
brethren  ;  to  "  bear  one  another's  burdens, 
and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ."  And  however 
inferior  our  stations  or  slender  our  abilities, 
we  have  all  one  talent.' — How  have  we  em- 
ployed it  ?  We  have  all  had  some  means  and 
opportunities  of  usefulness — What  brand  have 
we  plucked  out  of  the  fire  ?  What  naked 
wretch  have  we  clothed  ?  What  child  of  ig- 
norance have  we  instructed?  In  what  in- 
stances have  we  resembled  Him  who  "  went 
about  doing  good ;"  who  pleased  not  himself ; 
who  came,  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to 
minister,  and  to  give  his  lifo  a  ransom  for 
many  ? 

Thirdly.  It  is  urgent.  You  are  called 
not  only  to  labour,  but  to  labour  immediately. 
"  My  son,  go  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard." 
The  King's  business  requires  haste — and  this 
is  the  business  of  the  King  of  kings.  A  bu- 
siness of  importance  requires  haste — And  no 
business  can  be  so  momentous  in  its  conse- 
quences as  this.  A  business  requires  haste 
that  can  be  performed  only  in  a  certain  time, 
especially  if  the  season  be  short  and  uncer- 
tain— And  "what  is  thy  life?  It  is  even  as 
a  vapour  that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and 
then  vanisheth  away."  The  Scripture  there- 
fore only  borrows  the  language  of  common 
sense  when  it  says,  "Whatsoever  thy  hand 
findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for  there 
is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor 
wisdom  in  the  grave  whither  thou  goest." 
Observe  your  elder  Brother :  he  never  lost  a 
moment :  "  I  must  work  the  work  of  Ilim 
M  8* 


that  sent  me  while  it  is  day  :  the  night 
cometh,  wherein  no  man  can  work."  God  al- 
ways says,  "To-day" — "  to-morrow"  is  always 
the  language  of  the  Enemy  of  Souls.  And 
wherefore?  Because  procrastination  is  the 
most  successful  device  he  employs.  Because,  if 
he  can  keepyou  from  religion  TO-DAT,he  knows 
— either  that  you  will  not  live  till  to-mor- 
row— or  that  the  delay  will  leave  you  more 
disinclined  to  duty,  and  will  obstruct  your  way 
with  fresh  impediments.  "  Now  is  the  accept- 
ed time  ;  now  is  the  day  of  salvation."  Such 
is  the  command  of  God.    Let  us  see, 

Part  II.  The  manner  in  which  it  is 
regarded.  This  is  exemplified  in  the  be- 
haviour of  these  two  sons.  There  is  a  re- 
markable difference  between  them.  One 
proves  better  than  he  promises.  The  other 
promises  better  than  he  proves.  Of  the  one 
it  may  be  said,  that  his  words  were  evil  and 
his  actions  good  ;  of  the  other,  that  his  words 
were  good  and  his  actions  evil. 

Behold  the  first.  No  sooner  does  he  hear 
the  command  of  his  father,  than  he  answers, 
"  I  will  not  ;"  and  walks  off|  rebellious  and 
insulting — To  such  a  length  of  rudeness,  in- 
solence, and  presumption  does  sin  sometimes 
carry  men  ;  so  that  they  do  not  make  excuses, 
or  plead  only  for  delays,  but  positively  and 
daringly  refuse  !  "  They  say  unto  God,  De- 
part from  us,  for  we  desire  not  the  knowledge 
of  thy  ways."  "Who  have  said,  With  our 
tongue  will  we  prevail;  our  lips  are  our 
own;  who  is  Lord  over  us?"  "But  his  citi- 
zens hated  him,  and  sent  a  message  after  him, 
saying,  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign 
over  us." — Who  says  this?  Yonder  Swearer, 
who  never  opens  his  mouth  but  to  express  the 
abomination  of  his  heart  That  Drunkard, 
whose  insatiable  appetite,  like  the  horse- 
leech, cries,  Give,  give ;  and  never  saith,  It 
is  enough.  The  Fornicator,  who  lives  in 
chambering  and  wantonness.  The  man  who 
neglects  all  the  ordinances  of  religion,  who 
never  calls  upon  the  name  of  God,  never  hears 
his  word,  never  honours  his  sabbaths.  These 
make  no  pretences  to  godliness;  embarrass 
th/mselves  with  no  formality;  wear  no  dis- 
guise ;  use  no  hesitation.  They  openly  shew 
the  image  of  their  master  impressed  upon 
their  forehead.  They  explicitly  avow  their 
determination.  Actions  speak  louder  than 
words ;  and  nothing  less  than  this  is  the 
dreadful  language  of  their  lives — "  I  am  for 
hell :  1  will  run  the  downward  road :  I  am 
resolved  to  perish." 

And  is  it  possible,  that  characters  like  these 
should  ever  be  heard  "  asking  the  way  to 
Zion,"  or  seen  walking  before  God  "  in  new- 
ness of  life  ?" — "  Such  were  some  of  you  : 
but  ye  are  washed ;  but  ye  are  sanctified ; 
but  you  are  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God."  Yes, 
even  this  son — "afterward  repented 
and  went."   He  came  to  himself— reflection 


90 


SERMON  XV. 


returned — looking  back,  he  saw  the  old  man 
lifting  up  his  hands  to  Heaven,  and  then  wip- 
ing his  eyes  from  tears — and  he  cried — 
"  What  have  I  done  1  Is  he  not  my  father ! 
Has  he  suffered  me  to  want  any  proof  of  ten- 
derness which  he  could  shew  me  !  Do  I  thus 
requite  his  kindness  and  his  love'!  What  was 
there  unreasonable  in  the  command  I  reject- 
ed !  He  that  will  not  work  should  not  eat — 
What  is  it  for  a  son  to  work  in  a  father's  vine- 
yard !  Is  it  not  labouring  for  himself!  Mine 
is  the  expectation — I  will  go." — For,  my 
Brethren,  no  sooner  was  this  undutiful  child 
reclaimed  than  he  was  employed. — He  did 
not  satisfy  himself  with  returning  and  con- 
fessing and  bewailing  his  offence.  He  acted 
repentance.  He  knew  the  will  of  his  father 
which  he  had  transgressed — and  he  repented 
and  went.  The  one  was  the  consequence 
and  the  evidence  of  the  other.  Who  could 
have  believed  the  reality  of  his  remorse  and 
the  sincerity  of  his  acknowledgment,  unac- 
companied with  reformation  and  obedience  1 

Are  there  no  individuals  in  this  assembly 
whose  history  I  Have  recalled  to  mind  1  Do 
you  not  remember  your  alienation  from  the 
life  of  God ! — But  in  your  departure  from 
him  your  minds  were  far  from  being  at  rest. 
Sometimes  you  thought  of  home — a  Father 
struck  you — your  rebellion  appeared  unrea- 
sonable— you  condemned  yourselves.  These 
recollections  at  first  visited  you  occasionally, 
like  unwelcome  guests,  and  you  got  rid  of 
them.  At  length  you  found  them  quartered  up- 
on you,  like  so  many  soldiers — resistance  was 
useless.  Alone — in  business — surrounded 
with  company — these  convictions  followed 
you.  You  begun  to  pray  ;  to  read  the  Scrip- 
ture ;  to  associate  with  the  Lord's  people. 
You  brought  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance. 
The  change  in  your  disposition  was  discover- 
ed in  your  conversation  :  and  this  became  the 
language  of  your  actions  as  well  as  of  your 
lips — "  I  have  sinned ;  what  shall  be  done 
unto  thee,  O  thou  Preserver  of  men  1  What 
I  know  not  teach  thou  me  :  if  I  have  done 
iniquity,  I  will  do  so  no  more.  Lord,  what 
wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  1  Speak,  Lord,  fir 
thy  servant  heareth." 

Let  us  consider  the  second  son.  On  hear- 
ing the  command  of  his  father,  "  he  said,  I  go, 
Sir ;  and  went  not."  His  language  was  re- 
spectful, his  promise  was  fair,  and  he  walked 
forth  towards  the  vineyard,  till  he  apprehend- 
ed himself  out  of  sight — Then  he  turned  aside 
— loitered  away  his  time — joined  evil  compa- 
ny— set  off  to  a  revel — in  a  little  time  "  spent 
all  his  substance  in  riotous  living" — died  in 
wretchedness — and  as  he  expired  was  heard 
to  groan,  "  O  that  I  had  hearkened  to  a  fa- 
ther's counsel !" 

Ah !  how  many  in  a  few  years  have  we 
seen,  whose  pretensions  were  equally  strong, 
whose  promises  were  equally  flattering,  whose 


declensions  have  been  equally  grievous,  whose 
end  has  been  equally  fatal ! 

We  have  seen  children  trained  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord,  to  whose 
tender  minds  religion  was  presented  by  ma- 
ternal care  in  all  its  loveliness;  who  lisped 
the  language  of  prayer  and  of  praise  as  soon 
as  they  began  to  speak — They  promised  well. 

We  have  seen  young  men,  ingenuous, 
teachable,  despising  the  bondage  of  corrup- 
tion, hating  even  the  garment  spotted  with 
the  flesh — They  promised  well. 

We  have  seen  hearers  under  the  preaching 
of  the  Word  alarmed,  melted,  almost  per- 
suaded to  be  Christians — They  promised  fair. 

We  have  seen  men  reclaimed  from  various 
vices  becoming  regular  in  their  lives,  and  at- 
tentive to  moral  and  relative  duties — They 
promised  fair. 

We  have  seen  characters  coming  forward 
eager  to  join  in  Christian  communion,  and 
laying  themselves  under  an  obligation  to 
walk  "  in  all  the  commandments  and  ordi- 
nances of  the  Lord  blameless." — These  pro- 
mised fair.  And  nothing  would  have  been 
more  uncandid  and  suspicious,  than  to  have 
questioned  their  present  sincerity,  or  their  fu- 
ture perseverance — And  where  are  they  now  ? 
See  the  tears  of  their  connections ;  hear  the 
sighs  of  their  ministers ;  listen  to  the  triumph 
of  the  enemy — They  are  turned  aside  to  vain 
jangling — they  are  so  bewitched,  that  they 
cannot  obey  the  truth — they  are  walking  in 
the  counsel  of  the  ungodly,  standing  in  the 
way  of  sinners,  and  sitting  in  the  seat  of  the 
scornful :  "  for  it  has  happened  unto  them  ac- 
cording to  the  true  proverb :  the  dog  is  turn- 
ed to  his  own  vomit  again ;  and  the  sow  that 
was  washed,  to  her  wallowing  in  the  mire." 

Let  us  conclude  by  deriving  an  inference 
from  the  subject,  and  by  addressing  ourselves 
to  persons  of  two  classes. — The  parable  fully 
authorizes  us  to  observe,  that  religious  effects 
are  often  very  unanswerable  to  expectation ; 
and  that  the  most  specious  characters  are  not 
always  the  most  likely  to  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven.  The  subject  is  delicate  :  we 
know  we  tread  on  dangerous  ground,  nor 
would  we  advance  without  caution.  God  for- 
bid that  we  should  ever  plead  for  wickedness, 
or  intimate  that  immorality  ispreferable  to  mo- 
rality.— Our  Lord  intended  to  establish  no 
such  principle  by  these  examples.  He  does 
not  view  these  things  as  they  are  in  their 
own  nature,  but  as  they  are  frequently  found 
in  their  accidental  relations  and  consequences. 
And  is  it  not  undeniable  that  persons  possess- 
ed of  distinguishing  privileges  and  moral  en- 
dowments are  too  often  filled  with  pride, 
wrapped  up  in  self-righteousness,  lulled  to 
sleep  by  carnal  security,  deeming  themselves 
safe,  from  comparisons  with  those  who  are 
profligate  1  Are  they  not  too  often  offended 
when  told — that  they  must  be  indebted  for 


SERMON  XV. 


salvation  to  grace  perfectly  free  and  unmerit- 
ed— that  they  must  be  accepted  upon  the 
same  terms  with  the  most  vile — and  that  how- 
ever excellent  these  things  may  be  in  them- 
selves, they  afford  them  no  ground  of  depen- 
dence, yield  them  no  claims  whereof  they  may 
glory  before  God  ?  An  attempt  to  couch  the 
eyes  of  those  who  say  we  see,  an  offer  of  par- 
don to  the  innocent,  a  communication  of  alms 
to  the  wealthy, would  only  exasperat  and  dis- 
gust— But  would  this  be  the  case  with  the 
blind,  the  guilty, and  the  poor?  It  is  compara- 
tively easy  to  convince  the  more  criminal — 
how  can  they  deny  the  charge  !  to  alarm  them 
— how  can  they  deny  the  danger !  Having 
no  armour  of  defence — they  can  sooner  receive 
a  wound  which  will  make  them  cry  for  mercy. 
Conscious  that  they  have  no  righteousness  of 
their  own — they  more  readily  admit,  that  if sav- 
ed at  all,  it  must  be  by  grace.  Having  no  shel- 
ter in  which  to  hide — when  they  see  the  storm 
approaching,  they  willingly  flee  for  refuge  to 
the  hope  set  before  them  in  the  Gospel. 

Nor  are  such  trophies  of  Divine  grace  unu- 
sual. We  can  appeal  to  the  page  of  Histor  : 
and  we  can  refer  to  our  own  age.  We  have 
seen  the  most  unlikely  materials  subdued  by 
Divine  agency  to  holy  purposes;  and  sinners 
called  from  courses  the  most  ungodly,  whose 
conversion  has  awakened  not  only  the  joy,  but 
the  astonishment  of  their  pious  friends.  Let 
this  encourage  our  hope.  Let  us  consider 
none  of  our  fellow-creatures  as  desperate,  and, 
giving  up  our  endeavours  and  our  prayers, 
abandon  them.  Reformer!  let  it  animate  thee. 
"  Be  not  weary  in  well-doing.  In  the  morn- 
ing sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  with- 
hold not  thine  hand:  for  thou  knowest  not 
whether  shall  prosper,  this  or  that ;  or  whether 
they  both  shall  be  alike  good.  Brethren, 
if  any  of  you  do  err  from  the  truth,  and  one 
convert  him ;  let  him  know,  that  he  who  con- 
verteth  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way, 
shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and  shall  hide  a 
multitude  of  sins."  Minister!  let  it  encou- 
rage thee  !  "  Can  these  dry  bones  live  1 
— Prophesy  upon  these  bones ;  and  say,  Come 
from  the  four  winds,  O  breath,  and  breathe 
upon  these  slain,  that  they  may  live."  "  Is 
any  thing  too  hard  for  the  Lord  1"  Parent ! 
let  it  animate  thee — though  means  have  hi- 
therto proved  ineffectual,  and  instructions  and 
tears  have  been  in  vain — "  I  say  unto  you, 
that  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to  raise  up 
children  unto  Abraham !" 

Men  and  Brethren,  let  me  ask  you — Which 
of  these  two  sons  did  the  will  of  his  Father  ! 
— You  say,  and  you  say  justly,  Both  of  them 
were  culpable:  the  one  was  rude,  and  the 
other  false.  But  which,  on  comparison,  do 
you  prefer  ?  You  say,  and  you  say  truly,  The 
first.  On  what  principle  1  Because  his  ac- 
tions were  better  than  his  words,  and  his  lat- 
ter end  fairer  than  his  beginning.  Yes ;  bet- 
ter is  a  late  penitent  than  an  old  formalist. 


Yes;  more  desirable  is  the  condition  of  this 
returning  sinner,  trembling  at  God's  word, 
broken-hearted  with  a  review  of  unprofitable 
years,  and  resolving  to  redeem  the  time  by  fu- 
ture zeal — than  the  state  of  yonder  profess- 
or who  has  sat  under  the  Word  till  he  is 
past  feeling;  honouring  God  with  his  lip, 
while  his  heart  is  far  from  him ;  having  a 
name  to  live,  while  he  is  dead  ,  saying  per- 
petually, by  appearances,  I  go,  but  never  ac- 
tually taking  one  step  in  the  ways  of  godli- 
ness. 

But  I  have  another  question — Which  of 
these  two  sons  do  you  at  this  time  resemble  ? 
— It  is  undeniable  that  you  have  had  calls 
from  God.  Your  duty,  and  the  consequences 
of  inattention,  have  been  plainly  set  before 
you.  He  has  spoken  by  his  creatures.  He 
has  addressed  you  by  his  providence.  Afflic- 
tions have  had  a  voice.  Fire  has  rushed  out 
of  the  brambles  to  which  you  repaired  for 
shelter.  The  gourd,  whose  shade  refreshed 
you,  has  withered  away.  It  was  a  broken  reed 
upon  which  you  leaned:  it  disappointed  your 
hope,  and  pierced  you  through  with  many 
sorrows.  Sickness  told  you  that  you  were 
mortal.  The  death  of  others  reminded  you  of 
your  own  ;  and  loud  spake  the  silent  grave. 
Many  a  remonstrance,  many  a  warning,  you 
have  had  from  conscience.  From  sabbath  to 
sabbath  you  have  heard  the  Gospel.  Minis- 
ters, some  in  harsher  accents,  and  some  in 
milder  language,  have  laboured  to  persuade 
you — No,  you  cannot  plead  ignorance — you  do 
not  want  motive  and  encouragement — Suffer 
me  then  to  ask  you,  Which  of  these  sons  de- 
scribes you  ? 

Are  you  saying,  with  the  first — "  I  will 
not  ?" — What  irreverence  !  "  A  son  heareth 
his  father,  and  a  servant  his  master :  if  then  I 
be  a  father,  where  is  my  honour  ?  and  if  I  be 
a  master,  where  is  my  fear  1  saith  the  Lord 
of  Hosts." — What  ingratitude !  "  Hear,  O  ye 
heavens ;  and  give  ear,  O  earth  :  for  the  Lord 
hath  spoken,  I  have  nourished  and  brought  up 
children,  and  they  have  rebelled  against  me." 
"  Do  ye  thus  requite  the  Lord,  O  foolish  peo- 
ple and  unwise  1  Is  he  not  thy  Father  that 
hath  bought  thee  1  hath  he  not  made  thee  and 
established  thee  V — What  madness !  If  you 
abide  by  this  determination,  you  are  undone: 
"  because  of  these  things  cometh  the  wrath  of 
God  upon  the  children  of  disobedience." 
Have  you  duly  considered  the  work  you  de- 
cline 1  It  is  a  service  the  most  reasonable,  the 
most  honourable,  the  most  pleasant,  the  most 
profitable :  it  is  "  profitable  unto  all  things, 
having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is, 
and  of  that  which  is  to  come."  Here  we  can- 
not labour  in  vain.  The  reward  is  sure  ;  the 
recompense  is  glorious.  Nor  are  we  called 
to  labour  without  assistance.  He  who  em- 
ploys us  has  engaged  to  make  his  strength 
perfect  in  our  weakness,  and  to  render  his 
grace  sufficient  for  us.    To  which  we  may 


92 


SERMON  XVI. 


add,  that  it  is  a  work  the  most  indispensable — 
it  is  the  one  thing  needful — and  it  is  at  the 
peril  of  thy  soul  and  thy  eternal  happiness  to 
say,  "  I  will  not" — But  I  have  said  this,  and 
lived  accordingly. — "  O  that  my  head  were 
waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears  !" — 
Returning  sinner,  there  is  hope  in  Israel  con- 
cerning this  tiling.  There  is  forgiveness  with 
Him,  and  repentance  secures  it. 

Raise  thy  downcast  eyes,  and  see 
What  forms  His  throne  surround: 

They,  though  sinners  once  like  thee, 
Have  full  salvation  found — 

— He  has  pardons  to  impart, 
{Brace  to  save  thee  from  thy  fears: 

See  the  love  that  fills  his  heart, 
And  wipe  away  thy  tears. 

Thy  present  distress  is  a  pledge  of  a  pre- 
paration for  the  discovery  of  his  forgiving 
love — He  repented,  and  went — Go,  and  do 
likewise;  and  encourage  thyself  under  every 
gloomy  fear  by  representations  the  most  ap- 
propriate and  tender — "  I  have  surely  heard 
Ephraim  bemoaning  himself  thus:  Thou  hast 
chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised,  as  a  bul- 
lock unaccustomed  to  the  yoke ;  turn  thou 
me,  and  I  shall  be  turned,  for  thou  art  the 
Lord  my  God.  Surely,  after  that  I  was  turned 
I  repented ;  and  after  that  I  was  instructed,  I 
smote  upon  my  thigh :  I  was  ashamed,  yea, 
even  confounded,  because  I  did  bear  the  re- 
proach of  my  youth — Is  Ephraim  my  dear  son  1 
is  he  a  pleasant  child  1  for  since  I  spake  against 
him,  I  do  earnestly  remember  him  still :  there- 
fore my  bowels  are  troubled  for  him ;  I  will 
surely  have  mercy  upon  him,  saiththe  Lord." 
"  And  he  said,  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  Fa- 
ther, and  will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I  have 
sinned  against  Heaven  and  before  thee,  and 
am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son; 
make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants.  And 
he  arose,  and  came  to  his  Father — But  when 
he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his  Father  saw 
him,  and  had  compassion  on  him,  and  ran,  and 
fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him — And  said  to 
his  servants,  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and  put 
it  on  him ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand  and 
shoes  on  his  feet.  And  bring  hither  the  fitted 
calf,  and  kill  it ;  and  let  us  eat  and  be  merry. 
For  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again ; 
he  was  lost,  and  is  found.  And  they  began  to 
be  merry." 

Are  you  saying,  with  the  second — "  I  go, 
Sir !" — This  is  well — but,  oh  !  beware  of  in- 
sincerity. Consider  seriously  the  solemn  pro- 
fession you  make.  I  go,  Sir ! — But  remember 
to  whom  you  say  this — a  Being,  whose  eyes 
are  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  who  desireth  truth 
in  the  inward  parts :  thou  art  not  lying  unto 
man,  but  unto  God.  I  go,  Sir  ! — But  remember 
that  the  vows  of  God  are  upon  you ;  that  you 
have  raised  the  expectation  of  your  friends 
and  foes ;  that  heaven,  earth,  and  hell  are  look- 
ing for  a  practice  which  will  verify  your  pre- 
tensions :  and  will  you  tell  them  all,  "  I  am 
only — a  liar — a  hypocrite  V  I  go,  Sir  ! — But 


remember,  that  your  doom  will  be  determin- 
ed not  by  "fair  speeches"  and  a  "show  of 
godliness,"  but  by  your  actions  and  your  lives. 
"  Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  me,  Lord, 
Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Father  which 
is  in  heaven."  I  go,  Sir ! — But  remember, 
nothing  is  so  dangerous  to  the  soul  as  false 
dealing  with  God  ;  that  no  character  is  so  rare- 
ly converted  as  a  false  professor ;  that  no  state 
is  so  tremendous  as  the  end  of  an  apostate.  I 
go,  Sir  ! — But  remember — it  is  the  language 
of  God — "  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul 
shall  have  no  pleasure  in  him."  "  For  it  is  im- 
possible for  those  who  were  once  enlightened, 
and  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly  girt,  and  were 
made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  have 
tasted  of  the  good  word,  and  the  powers  of  the 
world  to  come,  if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  re- 
new them  again  unto  repentance ;  seeing 
they  crucify  to  themselves  the  Son  of  God 
afresh,  and  put  him  to  an  open  shame — But, 
Beloved,  we  are  persuaded  bettor  things  of 
you,  and  things  that  accompany  salvation, 
though  we  thus  speak." 


SERMON  XVI. 


CHRISTIAN  DILIGENCE. 

.?)i/7  besides  this,  giving-  all  diligence,  add  to 
your  faith  virtue  ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge  ; 
and  to  knowledge,  temperance  ;  and  to  tem- 
perance, patience  ;  and  to  patience,  godli- 
7iess  ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ; 
and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity. — 2  Peter 
i.  5—7 

My  Brethren,  it  is  a  very  easy,  and  it  is  a 
very  difficult  thing  to  be  a  Christian.  It  is  a 
very  easy  thing  to  be  a  nominal  Christian :  but 
it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  be  a  real  one.  It 
is  a  very  easy  thing  to  be  a  modern  Christian : 
but  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  he  a  Scrip- 
tural one.  Do  not  imagine  that  we  mean  to 
trifle,  or  advance  a  paradox  to  awaken  your 
attention  at  the  beginning  of  a  discourse :  we 
speak  "  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness." 
It  is  undeniable  that  we  have  many  Chris- 
tians among  us,  who  are  strangers  even  to 
common  decency  and  morality ;  "  being  abo- 
minable, and  disobedient,  and  to  every  good 
work  reprobate."  Others  make  a  much  strict- 
er profession — but,  alas  !  their  Christianity 
leaves  them  as  it  finds  them,  and  in  their  lives 
there  is  very  little  difference  discernible  be- 
tween them  and  the  people  of  the  world. 
Their  tempers  are  unsubdued ;  their  tongues 
are  unbridled ;  they  mind  earthly  things ;" 
they  make  no  sacrifices,  no  exertions.  Their 
hope  is  a  lifeless  expectation.  Their  faith  is 
a  scheme  of  doctrine,  which  they  have  laid 
asleep  in  the  mind,  and  which  never  disturbs 
or  stimulates  them. 

But  is  this  the  religion  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment ? — Search  the  Scriptures.    Observe  the 


SERMON  XVI. 


03 


delineations  of  the  Gospel,  and  compare  your- 
selves with  them.  In  these,  a  profession  is 
found  to  mean  a  practical  dissent  from  the 
spirit  and  manners  of  the  world ;  the  hope 
which  maketh  not  ashamed  is  held  forth  as 
purifying1  the  possessor  from  the  love  of  sin 
and  the  dominion  of  sense;  and  the  faith  by 
which  we  are  justified  and  saved,  is  distin- 
guished as  a  vital  and  a  vigorous  principle, 
drawing  after  it  a  train  of  graces  and  good 
works.  Witness  the  language  of  our  apostle. 
"  And  besides  this,  giving  all  diligence,  add  to 
your  faith  virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge  ; 
and  to  knowledge,  temperance;  and  to  tem- 
perance, patience ;  and  to  patience,  godliness; 
and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ;  and  to 
brotherly  kindness,  charity."  Christians ! 
these  words  specify,  I.  The  additions  which 
you  are  to  make  to  your  faith.  And,  II.  Pre- 
scribe the  means  by  which  you  are  to  make 
them. 

I.  The  apostle  does  not  exhort  Christians  to 
seek  after  faith — This  he  supposes  them  to 
possess  already.  He  addresses  them  as  be- 
lievers, and  calls  upon  them  to  pursue  a 
course  worthy  of  their  faith,  corresponding 
with  their  faith,  and  to  which  their  faith  binds 
them. — "  Remember,  Christians,  the  worthy 
name  by  which  you  are  called.  Consider  the 
tendency  of  the  principles  you  profess  to  be- 
lieve. You  have  embraced  the  Gospel — it 
lays  an  obligation  upon  you  to  deny  all  un- 
godliness and  worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly, 
righteously,  and  godly  in  the  present  world. 
You  say  you  have  faith — but  faith  without 
works  is  dead,  being  alone.  Faith  resembles 
a  foundation — of  high  importance  in  case  of  a 
building — but  useless  if  no  superstructure  be 
reared.  It  is  only  a  beginning — which  is  no- 
thing without  progress.  What  are  clear  no- 
tions unless  they  influence  ;  or  proper  motives 
unless  they  impel  ]  Abraham  had  faith,  and 
he  offered  up  Isaac.  Moses  had  faith,  and  he 
esteemed  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches 
than  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  Abel  and  Noah 
had  faith — but  it  was  belief,  alive  and  in  mo- 
tion :  it  led  the  one  to  sacrifice,  and  the  other 
to  build.  If  you  know  these  things — happy 
are  ye  if  ye  do  them.  You  have  received  the 
truth — now  walk  by  it.  You  are  sound  in 
doctrine — be  so  now  in  practice.  You  are 
■orthodox — now  be  holy,  defraud  no  man,  speak 
evil  of  no  man.  You  have  faith — add  to  your 
faith  virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ;  and 
to  knowledge,  temperance;  and  to  temper- 
ance, patience;  and  to  patience,  godliness; 
and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness ;  and  to 
brotherly  kindness,  charity."  Such  is  the 
meaningof  the  apostle  :  and  thus  we  conceive 
he  would  have  explained  himself,  had  he  been 
living  in  our  day  and  called  to  address  some 
of  our  audience. 

The  first  addition  which  he  requires  of  you 
as  believers  is  virtue.  But  it  does  not  here 
signify  goodness  in  general :  it  is  immediate- 


ly distinguished  from  the  various  excellences 
included  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
.word.  It  therefore  expresses  some  particular 
finality;  and  by  referring  to  the  Greek  and 
Latin  writers  we  can  soon  determine  what  it 
is — They  mean  by  it  Fortitude,  Courage.  My 
Brethren,  this  principle  in  the  whole  of  your 
Christian  course  will  be  found  indispensably 
necessary.  You  live  in  a  world  unfriendly  to 
religion.  You  are  called  to  various  duties, 
in  the  discharge  of  which  you  will  meet  with 
oppositions  and  discouragements  the  most 
painful  and  trying.  It  will  be  found  no  easy 
thing  to  deny  yourselves,  and  take  up  your 
cross ;  to  pluck  out  a  right  eye,  and  to  cut  off 
a  right  hand — being  both  the  patients  and  the 
agent  too.  It  will  be  found  no  very  easy  thing 
to  encounter  opinion :  to  incur  the  frowns  of 
connections,  the  scorn  of  superiors,  the  ridi- 
cule of  the  multitude ;  to  feel  yourselves  in  a 
small  and  despised  minority ;  to  have  your 
designs  suspected,  your  actions  misrepresent- 
ed, your  very  virtues  transformed  into  vices, 
and  where  you  have  deserved  best  of  your 
fellow-creatures  to  be  most  condemned  by 
them. 

Some  of  these  difficulties  indeed  might  be 
avoided  if  you  were  only  to  be  religious  and 
not  to  appear  so.  But  not  to  observe  that  it 
is  impossible  to  conceal  religion  in  number- 
less instances  when  it  is  fairly  reduced  to 
practice,  we  wish  you  to  remember  that  you 
are  required  to  be  open  and  explicit ;  you  are 
commanded  to  "  let  your  light  shine  before 
men ;"  to  "  confess  with  the  mouth"  as  well 
as  to  "believe  with  the  heart;"  to  "hold 
fast,"  not  your  faith,  but  the  "  profession  of 
your  faith,  without  wavering ;"  and  not  only 
to  be  "  on  the  Lord's  side,"  but  to  be  active 
in  his  service,  "  rising  up  lor  him  against 
the  evil  doers,  and  standing  up  for  him 
against  the  workers  of  iniquity." 

If  we  trace  things  to  their  origin,  we  shall 
find  a  thousand  evils  springing,  not  from  ig- 
norance but  cowardice.  Pilate  condemned  a 
Saviour  of  whose  innocency  he  was  conscious 
— because  of  the  Jews.  Many  of  the  Phari- 
sees "  believed  on  him  ;  but  feared  to  confess 
him  lest  they  should  be  put  out  of  the  syna- 
gogue." The  disciples  were  afraid,  and  for- 
sook him.  Peter  trembled,  and  denied  him. 
It  is  owing  to  the  influence  of  the  same  cause, 
that  persons  can  hold  the  truth  in  unrigh- 
teousness ;  refuse  to  hear  the  very  doctrines 
they  believe ;  change  with  every  compa- 
ny in  which  they  are  found  ;  hear  the  name 
of  God  blasphemed  and  the  Gospel  vilified, 
and  "  sit  as  men  in  whose  mouths  there  is  no 
reproof."  But  holy  courage  will  raise  a  man 
above  this  influence.  It  will  produce  in  him 
a  dignity  which  scorns  every  mean  compli- 
ance; a  firmness  which  gives  decision  and 
consistency  to  his  character  ;  a  determination 
not  indeed  to  make  singularity  his  aim,  but  to 
walk  by  those  rules  which  will  unavoidably 


94 


SERMON  XVI. 


render  it  a  consequence ,  a  boldness  to  follow 
his  convictions  wherever  they  may  lead  him, 
and  inflexibly  to  persevere  in  the  path  of  duty, 
regardless  of  the  reproach  he  may  endure,' 
or  the  losses  he  may  sustain. 

A  second  addition  is  knowledge.  And 
this  very  properly  follows  the  former.  It 
serves  to  characterize,  and  to  qualify  the  cou- 
rage of  the  believer.  It  reminds  us — that  it 
makes  him  open,  but  not  ostentatious — ready, 
but  not  challenging  and  vaunting — decided, 
but  not  violent — bold,  but  not  rash  and  incon- 
siderate. It  teaches  us  that  courage  is  a 
force  which  wisdom  is  to  employ — Courage 
may  urge  us  to  undertake  the  war,  but  judg- 
ment is  to  manage  it :  it  may  impel  us  along 
in  our  course,  but  knowledge  is  to  observe  the 
road — otherwise  our  animation  will  only  lead 
us  astray,  and  the  swifter  our  speed,  the 
greater  will  be  our  folly. 

And  hence  it  will  be  easy  to  determine 
the  nature  of  this  qualification.  It  is  practi- 
cal knowledge;  it  is  what  we  commonly 
mean  by  prudence,  which  is  knowledge  ap- 
plied to  action.  It  is  what  Paul  recommends 
when  he  says,  "  Be  ye  not  unwise,  but  un- 
derstanding what  the  will  of  the  Lord  is. 
Walk  circumspectly,  not  as  fools  but  as  wise. 
Walk  in  wisdom  towards  them  that  are 
without,  redeeming  the  time."  It  is  what 
Solomon  enjoins  when  he  says,  "let  thine  eyes 
look  right  on,  and  thine  eyelids  look  straight 
before  thee.  Keep  sound  wisdom  and  discre- 
tion; so  shall  they  be  life  unto  thy  soul  and 
grace  to  thy  neck.  Then  shalt  thou  walk 
in  thy  way  safely,  and  thy  foot  shall  not  stum- 
ble :  when  thou  liest  down,  thou  shalt  not  be 
afraid;  yea,  thou  shalt  lie  down,  and  thy  sleep 
shall  be  sweet." 

This  kind  of  knowledge  results  principally 
from  experience  and  observation ;  and  he  is 
blameable  indeed  who  does  not  grow  wiser 
as  he  grows  older,  and  who  does  not  make 
every  day  a  correction  of  the  former.  Our 
own  history  affords  us  some  of  the  best  mate- 
rials to  improve  and  embellish  our  character. 
— There,  being  heedless,  I  was  surprised.  By 
that  trifle  I  was  robbed  of  temper.  Here,  I 
dashed  on  a  rock,  and  a  plank  saved  me.  Our 
rashness  should  teach  us  the  meekness  of 
wisdom.  We  should  derive  strength  from  our 
weaknesses,  and  firmness  from  our  falls. 

But,  alas !  what  numbers  are  there,  upon 
whom  the  continuance  of  life,  and  all  means 
of  improvement,  seem  to  be  thrown  away ! 
They  have  eyes,  but  they  see  not :  ears  have 
they,  but  they  hear  not.  They  pass  through 
a  country  full  of  instructive  scenes  and  inte- 
resting occurrences — but  they  travel  in  a 
hearse.  And  here  many  religious  people 
seem  peculiarly  deficient:  they  perpetually 
remind  us  of  the  observation,  "  the  children  of 
this  world  are  wiser  in  their  generation  than 
the  children  of  light."  They  are  always 
roving  from  one  public  assembly  to  another, 


and  are  never  alone.  They  hear  much  and 
think  little.  Even  the  kind  of  information 
they  obtain  often  serves  only  to  draw  them 
away  from  things  of  immediate  concern,  and 
to  disqualify  them  for  the  duties  of  the  sta- 
tions in  which  they  move.  With  their  eyes 
stretched  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  or  roving 
among  the  stars,  they  go  on  regardless  of  any 
thing  before  them,  and  tall  over  every  stum- 
bling-block in  the  road. 

Whereas  "the  wisdom  of  the  prudent  is  to 
understand  his  way."  "The  prudent  man 
looketh  well  to  his  going."  He  draws  down 
his  knowledge  from  speculation,  and  uses  it 
in  common  life.  He  judges  of  the  value  of 
his  notions  by  their  utility.  He  studies  his 
character  and  condition.  He  examines  his 
dangers,  his  talents,  his  opportunities.  He 
marks  events  as  they  arise,  and  has  a  plan  to 
receive  them.  He  distinguishes  times, 
places,  circumstances.  He  discerns  both 
when  to  keep  silence,  and  when  to  speak. 
He  reproves  with  skill.  He  gives  with  judg- 
ment. He  "  approves  things  that  are  excel- 
lent." 

Thirdly.  You  are  to  avoid  intemperance. 
There  is  a  sense  in  which  this  word  may  be 
applied  to  the  mind  as  well  as  the  body.  For 
we  are  required  to  think  soberly — to  keep  all 
our  passions  within  due  bounds — to  moderate 
our  desires  to  enjoy  earthly  pleasures,  and  our 
anxieties  to  acquire  worldly  possessions. 
Our  Saviour  therefore  commands  his  disciples 
"  to  take  heed  lest  at  any  time  their  hearts 
should  be  overcharged,"  not  only  "  with  sur- 
feiting and  drunkenness,"  but  also  "the  cares 
of  this  life,  and  so  that  day  should  come  upon 
them  unawares."  The  motive  is  as  pertinent 
as  it  is  awful ;  'for  if  we  are  to  live  in  expec- 
tation of  this  important  event,  and  are  to  be 
so  habitually  prepared  for  it  as  not  to  be  taken 
by  surprize  when  it  comes,  it  is  necessary 
that  we  should  be  temperate  in  all  things. 

The  word,  however,  principally  refers  to 
moderation  in  satisfying  our  bodily  appetites. 
But  can  it  be  needful  to  enlarge  upon  a  sub- 
ject like  this  in  a  Christian  congregation? — 
Surely,  something  far  short  of  the  pure  and 
exalted  system  of  the  Gospel  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  restrain  men  from  degrading  them- 
selves below  the  beasts  that  perish.  Surely, 
we  need  not  interpose  the  authority  of  God, 
and  reveal  the  misery  he  has  prepared  in  an- 
other world,  in  order  to  keep  them  from  being 
gluttons  and  drunkards.  Against  this,  Hea- 
thenism exclaims — Nature  rises  up — Health 
preaches.  Intemperance  is  arraigned  and 
punished  here.  It  impoverishes  our  circum- 
stances. It  beggars  our  families.  It  renders 
the  body  lazy  and  sickly,  and  breeds  all  man- 
ner of  diseases.  It  besots  the  mind,  and  stu- 
pifies  reason;  it  impedes  with  filthy  crudi- 
ties the  way  through  which  the  spirits  should 
pass,  and  bemires  the  soul  so  that  it  drags  on 
heavily ;  it  unfits  for  every  duty,  and  prepares 


SERMON  XVI. 


95 


for  every  sin  Surely  otic  half  of  this  is 

enough  to  make  you  flee  all  intemperance; 
and  to  lead  you  not  only  to  avoid  the  gross- 
er excesses  of  this  infamy,  but  to  abhor  eve- 
ry degree  of  approach  to  it  Shun  there- 
tore  those  "  whose  god  is  their  belly,  and 
whose  glory  is  in  their  shame."  Scorn  the 
bondage  of  corruption.  Disdain  to  be  the 
slaves  of  a  pampered  appetite.  Never  advance 
to  the  bounds  of  things  lawful.  Beware  of 
beginnings,  and  the  excuses  which  would 
authorize  them.  "  But  put  ye  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  make  not  provision  for  the 
flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof." 

Fourthly.  You  are  to  add  to  your  tempe- 
rance patience.    There  is  an  obvious  and 
striking  relation  between  these.    The  one 
requires  us  to  bear,  the  other  to  forbear.  The 
one  regards  the  good  things,  the  other  the  evil 
things  of  the  world.    By  temperance  we  are 
preserved  under  the  smiles  of  prosperity,  and 
by  patience  we  encounter  the  frowns  of  ad- 
versity.   These  two  therefore  furnish  us 
"  with  the  armour  of  righteousness  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the  left."    And  the  one  is 
as  necessary  as  the  other.    For  you  will  not 
be  assailed  from  one  side  only.    When  the 
weather  is  fair,  the  road  agreeable,  and  the 
adjoining  groves  and  meadows  very  alluring, 
you  are  in  danger  of  pausing  and  wandering 
— but  the  storm  driving  in  your  face,  and  your 
feet  sinking  in  deep  mire  where  there  is  no 
standing,  you  will  sometimes  be  discouraged 
because  of  the  way,  question  whether  you  are 
right,  and  debate  with  yourselves  whether  to 
advance  or  turn  back. — Yes,  Christians,  you 
will  have  need  of  patience,  and  perhaps  of 
much  more  than  you  are  aware.    You  know 
not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.    "  Riches" 
may  "  make  to  themselves  wings,  and  flee 
away."    Your  "  friends  may  deal  deceitfully 
with  you  as  a  brook."    Your  present  comforts 
may  become  your  greatest  troubles.  Trials, 
which  so  far  from  expecting,  never  entered 
your  thoughts,  may  suddenly  arise.    Has  not 
this  world  been  always  a  vale  of  tears  !  Did 
any  of  your  brethren  who  were  before  you  es- 
cape sorrow  1  Are  you  not  assured  that  it  is 
through  much  tribulation  you  must  enter  the 
•  kingdom  1  But  patience  will  prepare  you  for 
every  changing  scene,  and  every  suffering 
hour.    What  it  cannot  remove,  it  will  allevi- 
ate; what  it  cannot  diminish,  it  will  strength- 
en you  to  bear.    It  will  produce  a  composure 
which  will  allow  you  to  discover  every  fa- 
vourable circumstance  in  your  situation  ;  a  si- 
lence which  will  enable  you  to  hear  every 
message  of  the  rod.    "  Let  patience  have  her 
perfect  work  ;  that  ye  may  be  perfect  and  en- 
tire, lacking  nothing." 

Fifthly.  Godliness  is  indispensable.  Cou- 
rage and  Prudence,  Temperance  and  Pa- 
tience, would  be  no  Christian  qualities,  if 
in  the  exercise  of  them  we  were  not  in- 
fluenced by  suitable  regards  to  God.  With- 


out this  reference,  our  religion  is  nothing 
more  than  morality:  our  practice  has  no 
adequate  principle :  our  duties  are  in  vain, 
as  to  their  acceptance ;  and  precarious,  va- 
riable, lifeless,  irksome,  as  to  their  perform- 
ance. When  we  are  governed  by  the  au- 
thority of  God,  and  make  his  word  our  rule, 
and  his  glory  our  aim,  we  please  him ;  and 
though  our  services  are  attended  with  many 
imperfections,  they  are  accepted.  When  we 
love  and  fear  him,  when  we  realize  his  pre- 
sence, confide  in  his  mercy,  implore  his  grace, 
and  maintain  continual  communion  with  him 
through  the  mediation  of  his  Son  and  by  the 
influences  of  his  Spirit — our  work  becomes  our 
privilege;  all  is  enlivened;  all  is  secured. 
In  this  godliness  consists :  it  is,  to  bring  God 
into  every  part  of  life  and  religion ;  to  make 
him  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  all  we  do. 
Though  morality  is  distinguished  from  godli- 
ness, it  always  and  inseparably  attends  it ;  and 
he  never  performs  his  duty  towards  God,  who 
lives  unrighteously  towards  man  :  "  If  a  man 
say,  I  love  God,  and  hateth  his  brother,  he  is 
a  liar  ;  for  he  that  loveth  not  his  brother  whom 
he  hath  seen,  how  can  he  love  God  whom  he 
hath  not  seen  1  And  this  commandment  have 
we  from  him,  That  he  who  loveth  God,  love 
his  brother  also."  Hence 

We  are  to  add  to  godliness  brotherly 
kindness.  And  who  are  our  brethren!  All 
Christians.  However  they  may  differ  from 
us  in  their  age,  their  dress,  their  features, 
they  are  all  children  of  the  same  Father, 
members  of  the  same  family,  heirs  of  the  same 
grace,  travellers  towards  the  same  heavenly 
country.  They  have  therefore  claims  upon 
ns:  and  we  are  to  aid  and  relieve  them. 
"  Whoso  hath  this  world's  good,  and  seeth  his 
brother  have  need,  and  shutteth  up  his  bow- 
els of  compassion  from  him,  how  dwelleth  the 
love  of  God  in  him  1  Let  us  not  love  in  word, 
neither  in  tongue,  but  in  deed  and  in  truth." 
Who  are  our  brethren  1  All  mankind.  "  God 
hath  made  of  one  blood"  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  They  possess  the  same  powers  of  con- 
science, reason,  and  immortality ;  they  are 
capable  of  the  same  privileges  ;  need  the  same 
succours;  are  liable  to  the  same  afflictions. — 
Hence  love,  good-will  to  the  whole  human 
race,  finishes  the  train,  and  becomes  "  the 
bond  of  perfectness." — And — 

— To  brotherly  kindness,  charity.  Thus 
we  are  "  the  children  of  our  Father  which  is 
in  heaven  :  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on 
the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on 
the  just  and  on  the  unjust."  Thus  every  dis- 
pute concerning  the  extent  or  limitation  of 
benevolence  is  settled — As  we  have  opportu- 
nity, we  are  to  do  good  unto  all  men,  espe- 
cially unto  them  who  are  of  the  household 
of  faith.  "To  some,  indeed,  I  am  peculiar- 
ly bound  ;  to  few,  only,  can  I  be  personally 
useful — but  my  kind  wishes  and  prayers  ex- 
tend to  every  individual  of  the  human  race. 


IX) 


SERMON  XVI. 


By  the  law  of  the  Gospel  I  am  required  to 
cherish  in  my  bosom  those  sentiments  of  be- 
nevolence which  are  only  hindered  from  be- 
ing universal  in  their  exercise  by  inability 
and  necessity." 

Thus  you  are  to  add  to  your  faith  virtue ; 
to  virtue,  knowledge  ;  to  knowledge,  tempe- 
rance ;  to  temperance,  patience ;  to  patience, 
godliness;  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness; 
and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity. — But  let  us, 

II.  Inquire  how  this  is  to  be  accomplished. 
The  apostle  tells  us.  It  is  by  giving  all  di- 
ligence. To  excite  you  to  this,  we  would 
remind  you — that  these  things  deserve  your 
diligence — that  diligence  will  secure  them — 
and  that  they  cannot  be  attained  without  di- 
ligence. 

First.  These  things  deserve  your  dili- 
gence. It  is  pitiable  to  see  men  employing 
their  zeal  and  consuming  their  strength  upon 
trifles.  But  this  is  the  case  with  regard  to 
the  pursuits  of  thousands.  You  may  ask 
them,  as  they  rusli  by,  "Wherefore  do  ye 
spend  your  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread, 
and  your  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not !" 
None  of  these  things  can  relieve  them  in 
their  greatest  exigences,  promote  their  chief 
interests,  reward  them  for  their  toil,  or  in- 
demnify them  for  the  sacriliccs  they  make. 
But  this  cannot  be  said  of  spiritual  blessings 
and  graces.  These  are  in  the  sight  of  God 
of  great  price.  They  are  necessary  to  man. 
They  purify  his  passions,  and  tranquillize  his 
conscience.  They  enrich,  they  dignify  him : 
they  are  his  perfection.  They  make  him 
happy  in  himself,  and  render  him  a  blessing 
to  all  around  him.  Conceive  how  striking 
and  how  useful  a  single  individual  would  be 
if  seen — thus  adorning  the  doctrine  of  God 
our  Saviour  in  all  things  :  not  only  a  believer, 
but  courageous ;  not  only  courageous,  but 
wise ;  not  only  wise,  but  self-denying,  and 
gentle,  and  pious:  and  all  this  followed  by 
kindness  and  benevolence  !  What  then  would 
a  number  of  these  characters  accomplish  as 
they  passed  along  through  life  ]  They  would 
look  forth  as  the  morning,  fair  as  the  moon, 
clear  as  the  sun,  and  terrible  as  an  army  with 
banners :  bearing  down  reproach,  disarming 
infidelity,  putting  to  silence  the  ignorance  of 
foolish  men,  and  constraining  beholders  to  glo- 
rify God  in  the  day  of  visitation. 

Secondly.  Diligence  will  infallibly  se- 
cure these  things.    In  the  career  of  worldly 
good,  many  run,  but  few  obtain  the  prize : 
and  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle 
to  the  strong ;  neither  yet  bread  to  the  wise,  i 
nor  yet  riches  to  men  of  understanding,  nor  : 
yet  favour  to  men  of  skill;  but  time  and 
chance  happeneth  to  them  all.  Fame  depends 
upon  a  combination  of  circumstances,  which  : 
may  never  return.  A  despised  rival  may  sud-  I 
denly  rise  up,  and  carry  off  an  acquisition  i 
which  you  had  been  pursuing  incessantly  < 
tlirough  life.     Though  the  sower  soweth  in  1 1 


i  hope,  many  things  may  frustrate  his  expecta- 

•  tions.    "  But  to  the  righteous  there  is  a  sure 

•  reward."  "He  that  goeth  forth  and  weep- 
eth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shurll,  doubtless, 
return  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his 

;  sheaves  with  him."  "Ask,  and  it  shall  be 
given  you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you :  for  every 
one  that  asketh,  receiveth  ;  and  he  that  seek- 
eth,  findeth  ;  and  to  him  that  knocketh,  it  shall 
be  opened."  In  the  world,  men  spare  no 
pains,  decline  no  difficulty,  fear  no  hazard, 
though  they  have  nothing  more  than  probabi- 
lity to  excite  and  encourage  them — and  shall 
we  be  insensible  and  motionless,  who  have 
nothing  less  than  actual  certainty  ? 

Thirdly.  There  is  no  attaining  these 
things  -without  diligence.  Diligence  is  in- 
dispensable. 

Indispensable,  if  we  appeal  to  analogy.  You 
must  labour  even  for  "  the  meat  that  perish- 
eth."  Through  what  a  succession  of  process 
does  your  bread  pass  before  it  be  prepared  for 
use  !  The  same  may  be  said  of  raiment;  of 
trade ;  of  science — of  every  thing  valuable  and 
excellent — you  do  not  expect  to  gain  them 
without  diligence ;  you  would  not  esteem  and 
prize  them  if  you  could. 

"  On  earth  naught  precious  is  obtain'd, 

But  what  is  painful  too. 
By  travail,  and  to  travail  born, 
Our  sabbaths  are  but  few." 

— Indispensable,  if  we  appeal  to  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Christian.  He  is  a  merchant,  a  scho- 
lar, a  husbandman,  a  traveller,  a  soldier — the 
anxiety  of  the  merchant,  the  application  of 
the  scholar,  the  hardy  toil  of  the  husbandman, 
the  wearying  progress  of  the  traveller,  the 
painful  exercise  of  the  soldier,  are  images 
which  ill  accord  with  indolence  and  ease. 

— Indispensable,  if  we  appeal  to  the  pro- 
mises of  the  Gospel.  These  all  require  it, 
encourage  it,  produce  it.  Is  God  said  to 
work  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good 
pleasure  1  It  is  made  a  motive  to  induce  us  to 
work  out  our  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling. Has  he  engaged  to  renew  our  strength  ] 
It  is  when  we  are  waiting  upon  him — this  is 
the  condition :  it  is,  that  we  may  mount  up 
with  wings  as  eagles  ;  that  we  may  run  and  • 
not  be  weary,  and  walk  and  not  faint — this  is 
the  design.  And  if  the  promises  of  divine 
grace  do  not  supersede  the  necessity  of  dili- 
gence— what  else  can  render  it  needless  ? 

Awake,  then,  my  fellow  Christians,  and  be 
zealous.  Be  not  satisfied  with  your  present 
attainments ;  but,  forgetting  the  things  which 
are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those 
things  which  are  before,  be  ever  pressing  to- 
wards the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  call- 
ing of  God  in  Ciirist  Jesus.  Others  are  ambi- 
tious, covetous,  active.  The  learned  are  add- 
ing to  their  intellectual  treasures ;  the  hon- 
ourable are  adding  to  their  splendour  and  dis- 
tinctions ;  the  rich  are  adding  house  to  house, 


SERMON  XVII. 


07 


and  field  to  field :  and  none  of  them  saith, 
"  It  is  enough."  And  have  you  no  concern 
to  go  from  strength  to  strength,  to  be  changed 
from  glory  to  glory,  to  shine  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day  !  Will  not  you  add  to 
your  faith  virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ; 
and  to  knowledge,  temperance  ;  and  to  tem- 
perance, patience  ;  and  to  patience,  godliness ; 
and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ;  and  to 
brotherly  kindness,  charity'! 

Here,  My  Brethren,  call  forth  all  your  dili- 
gence. Here  is  a  prize  which  is  able  to  re- 
ward it — which  will  assuredly  crown  it — but 
which  it  is  impossible  to  acquire  without  it. 
Keep  this  always  in  your  remembrance,  that 
there  is  only  one  way  to  prosper  in  religion ; 
that  your  strength  is  not  to  sit  still ;  that 
something  more  is  necessary  than  airy  notions, 
sleepy  wishes,  feeble  resolutions,  wavering 
and  cold  endeavours  ;  that  temptations  are  to 
be  resisted,  obstacles  to  be  overcome,  means 
to  be  incessantly  used — especially  prayer,  that 
divine  grace  may  be  mighty  in  you,  and  suffi- 
cient for  you.  "  He  becometh  poor  that  deal- 
eth  with  a  slack  hand ;  but  the  hand  of  the 
diligent  maketh  rich."  "  The  soul  of  the 
sluggard  desireth,  and  hath  nothing  :  but  the 
soul  of  the  diligent  shall  be  made  fat."  "  And 
we  desire  that  every  one  of  you  do  shew  the 
same  diligence,  to  the  full  assurance  of  hope 
unto  the  end :  that  ye  be  not  slothful ;  but 
followers  of  them,  who  through  faith  and  pa- 
tience inherit  the  promises."  "  Wherefore, 
my  beloved  Brethren,  be  ye  stedfast,  unmove- 
able,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye  know  that  your  labour 
is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 


SERMON  XVII. 


THE  ABUSE  OF  DIVINE  FORBEAR- 
ANCE. 

Because  sentence  against  an  evil  -work  is  not 
executed  speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the 
sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil, — 
Eccles.  viii.  11. 

My  Brethren,  to  know  things  in  their  prin- 
ciples has  always  been  deemed  the  highest 
kind  of  science.  The  attention  of  a  vulgar 
mind  may  be  roused  by  effects ;  but  a  wise 
man  looks  back  from  consequences  to  the 
cause,  and  explores  the  source  of  the  disease 
in  order  to  prescribe  more  certainly  the  means 
of  cure. 

That  there  is  much  wickedness  in  the 
world,  is  undeniable.  Whence  does  it  arise  1 
— Solomon  views  it  as  resulting  from  an 
Abuse  of  Divine  Forbearance.  Not  that  this 
is  the  only  source  of  iniquity  :  but  it  is  a  very 
powerful,  and  a  very  prevailing  one.  In  such 
a  dreadful  course  as  Sin,  a  man  needs  encou- 
ragement ;  and  he  awfully  derives  it  from  the 
goodness  and  long-suffering  of  his  God.  "Be- 
cause sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not 
N  9 


executed  speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the 
sons  of  men  as  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil." 

"  There  is  a  sentence  denounced  against 
Sin — The  execution  of  it  is  commonly  long 
suspended — This  delay  emboldens  the  sin- 
ner in  his  crimes.  These  three  things  are 
obviously  contained  in  the  words  before  us ; 
and  with  these  I  would  engage  your  present 
attention.  "  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  his  voice, 
harden  not  your  heart." 

I.  Sin  is  deservedly  called  an  evil  work. 
I  fear  none  of  us  are  sufficiently  impressed 
with  a  sense  of  its  vileness  and  malignity.  It 
is  "  the  work  of  the  Devil."  It  is  folly,  in- 
gratitude, rebellion,  treason.  It  degrades  the 
soul :  it  defiles  the  soul.  It  robs  us  of  the  like- 
ness, the  presence,  the  favour  of  God.  How 
deplorable  are  its  consequences  !  What  mise- 
ry has  it  produced  ! — For  it  cannot  go  unpu- 
nished.— There  is  a  sentence  denounced 
against  it. 

God  is  of  "purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniqui- 
ty :"  "  He  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every 
day."  But  what  is  anger  in  God!  Not  a 
passion,  but  a  principle — a  determination  to 
punish.  It  is  justice — and  this  justice  is  es- 
sential to  the  perfection  of  his  character :  and 
we  could  neither  adore  nor  love  him,  if  we 
believed  that  he  was  indifferent  to  an  evil 
which  not  only  subverts  his  designs,  but  de- 
stroys the  welfare  of  his  creatures.  What 
would  you  think  of  a  magistrate  who  should 
"  bear  the  sword  in  vain ;"  and  who,  when  you 
led  before  him  one  who  had  invaded  your  pro- 
perty, and  another  who  had  killed  your  child, 
should  smile,  and  say,  What  is  this  to  me  1 
Would  you  not  exclaim — Why,  are  you  not 
"  a  minister  of  God  for  good,  a  revenger  to 
execute  wrath  upon  him  that  doeth  evil  V — 
Crimes,  in  all  well-governed  empires,  are  pu- 
nished ;  and  on  their  punishment  much  of  our 
peace  and  safety  depend.  Hence  prisons- 
are  necessary  as  houses;  and  onr  houses 
would  afford  us  no  security  without  prisons. 
What  would  be  the  consequences  of  the  ab- 
rogation ofall  the  penalities  attached  to  crimes 
in  this  country — but  disorder,  anarchy,  robbe- 
ry, and  murder  ? 

God  is  the  governor  of  the  world.  But  there 
is  no  governing  without  laws,  and  laws  are 
nothing  without  sanctions — from  these  they 
derive  their  force  and  their  efficacy.  Laws 
issued  by  a  legislator,  unaccompanied  with 
threatenings,  would  be  harmless;  and  inspir- 
ing no  terror,  would  be  trifled  with,  or  consi- 
dered only  as  advice.  Thus  the  notion  of  pu- 
nishment follows  from  the  very  constitution 
of  law.  If  any  should  be  ready  to  say,  "  The 
case  before  us  is  a  peculiar  one,  and  laws  so 
excellent  as  those  which  God  has  given  us 
should  be  cheerfully  obeyed  for  their  own 
sake," — We  answer,  First,  that  man  was  ori- 
ginally made  capable  of  fear,  and  that  God 
even  in  a  state  of  innocency  addressed  him- 
self to  this  passion,  to  aid  his  authority  and 


98 


SERMON  XVII. 


secure  his  dominion.  Witness  the  threaten- 
ing, "  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof  thou 
shalt  surely  die."  Secondly,  as  man  is  now 
fallen  and  depraved,  and  lives  so  much  under 
the  dominion  of  sense,  such  a  revelation  of  ter- 
ror is  become  far  more  necessary,  to  check 
the  power  of  appetite,  and  break  the  force 
of  temptation.  Accordingly  a  sentence  the 
most  tremendous  is  denounced  against  every 
transgressor. — Do  you  ask  where  it  is  re- 
corded ? 

Look  within  thee,  O  man,  and  read  it  there: 
read  it  in  the  trouble,  the  remorse,  the  forebod- 
ings of  thy  own  conscience.  Why  are  you  un- 
easy when  any  thing  reminds  you  of  the  ap- 
proach of  Deity  ?  Whence  has  sickness,  a  sud- 
den death,  an  opening  grave,  such  power  to 
alarm  you !  Why  are  you  unwilling  to  be  alone; 
and  why  do  you  require  a  succession  of  business 
and  diversion  to  maintain  your  tranquillity? 
Are  not  these  things  more  frequently  your  re- 
fuge than  your  choice  1  And  are  you  not  fear- 
ful to  leave  any  hour  unfilled  up,  lest  a  faith- 
ful monitor  finding  you  disengaged,  should 
afford  you  employment  ?  Why  are  you  unea- 
sy, not  only  for  the  time — but  for  weeks  and 
months  after  the  contraction  of  the  guilt? 
Why  are  you  uneasy,  not  only  when  you  are 
discovered — but  when  no  eye  sees  you  !  Why 
are  you  uneasy,  not  only  when  you  have 
exposed  yourselves  to  the  penalty  of  civil 
law — but  when  you  have  committed  crimes 
for  which  you  are  amenable  to  no  earthly 
tribunal?  What  judge,  what  prison  is  it  you 
then  dread  ?  Why  do  you  not  shake  off  these 
terrors,  and  be  a  man  ? — Why  do  you  suffer 
them  to  follow  you  into  solitude  and  into 
company?  Turn,  and  frown  them  back;  and 
suffer  your  peace  of  mind  to  be  no  longer  dis- 
turbed— Ah  !  it  is  in  vain  to  argue  against  a 
truth,  which  depends,  not  only  on  reasoning, 
but  sentiment;  and  to  annihilate  a  principle 
interwoven  in  human  nature  by  the  finger  of 
God. — Where  is  it  recorded  1 

Examine  the  history  of  mankind,  and  read 
it  there.  See  it  in  the  expulsion  of  the  happy 
pair  from  Paradise;  in  the  flood  which  de- 
stroyed the  world  of  the  ungodly  ;  in  the  fire 
and  brimstone  which  consumed  the  cities  of 
the  plain.  Go,  and  read  it  inscribed  on  the 
pillar  of  salt,  and  engraven  on  the  arms  rolled 
to  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea.  View  it  in  the 
desolations  of  a  people  hated  and  scattered, 
once  the  favourites  of  Heaven — View  it  in 
every  calamity,  in  every  disease,  in  every 
death. — Where  is  it  recorded  ? 

Open  the  Bible,  and  peruse  it  there.  There 
you  read  that  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall 
die.  There  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed 
from  heaven  against  all  unrighteousness  and 
ungodliness  of  men.  Sometimes  it  is  ex- 
pressed in  simple  terms,  and  more  frequently 
in  figurative  language.  Sometimes  a  little  of 
it  is  distinctly  specified,  but  often  the  whole 
is  left  in  dreadful  obscurity.    Sometimes  we 


see  the  curse  coming  to  meet  the  sinner,  ana 
beginning  his  misery  here;  but  more  gene- 
rally we  are  led  forward  to  eternity — For  the 
present  is  only  a  state  of  trial — the  future  is 
a  world  of  retribution :  here  we  only  sow — 
there  we  shall  reap :  the  sentence  is  already 
denounced,  but  the  infliction  is  commonly 
long  suspended.    This  is  the 

II.  Division  of  our  subject.  Sentence 
against  an  evil  work  is  not  speedily  exe- 
cuted. Here,  however,  we  wish  to  observe — 
That  there  is  no  uncertainty  as  to  its  final  ac- 
complishment— it  is  taken  for  granted  that  it 
will  be  executed.  "God  is  not  a  man,  that 
he  should  lie ;  or  the  son  of  man,  that  he 
should  repent :  hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not 
do  it  ?  or  hath  he  spoken,  and  shall  he  not 
make  it  good  ?"  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass 
away,  but  my  word  shall  not  pass  away."  It 
may  be  also  remarked — That  he  does  not  al- 
ways defer  the  execu  tion  of  the  sentence.  Men 
have  perished  even  in  their  crimes.  Witness 
the  destruction  of  Korah  and  his  company. 
The  leprosy  of  Gehazi.  The  death  of  Ana- 
nias and  Sapphira. — And  what  has  happened 
to  one,  may  befall  another. 

But  the  language  of  the  wise  man  agrees 
with  the  general  proceedings  of  the  Supreme 
Being.    With  much  long-suffering  he  en- 
dures the  provocations  of  the  ungodly,  and 
delays  from  day  to  day  and  from  year  to  year 
the  wrath  which  they  have  deserved.    He  is 
slow  to  anger,  and  punishes  with  reluctance. 
Judgment  is  his  strange  work.    Patience  is 
one  of  the  distinguishing  glories  of  his  charac- 
ter :  it  is  often  ascribed  to  him  in  Scripture ; 
and  the  exercise  of  it  appears  in  numberless 
and  undeniable  instances.  The  old  world  was 
warned  an  hundred  and  twenty  years  before 
the  flood  came,  and  took  them  all  away.  Four 
hundred  years  He  suffered  the  Amorites  to 
fill  up  the  measure  of  their  iniquities.  Forty 
years  long  was  he  grieved  with  the  Jews  in 
the  wilderness.    If  we  take  the  history  of  this 
people  ages  after,  we  hear  the  God  of  patience, 
in  language  the  most  exquisitely  tender,  say- 
ing, "  How  shall  I  give  thee  up,  Ephraim  1 
how  shall  I  deliver  thee,  O  Israel  ?  how  shall 
I  make  thee  as  Admah  ?  how  shall  I  set  thee 
as  Zeboim  ?  Mine  heart  is  turned  within  me, 
my  repentings  are  kindled  together."  And 
are  not  you,  are  not  all  of  you  examples  ?  Can 
you  consider  the  time  of  your  provocation — 
the  number  of  your  offences — the  aggravations 
of  your  iniquities  ;  and  not  say,  with  wonder 
and  admiration,  "  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies 
that  we  are  not  consumed,  because  his  com- 
passions fail  not  ?" — Let  us  take  some  parti- 
cular views  of  this  dispensation,  that  we  may 
discover  the  principles  from  which  it  springs, 
and  the  purposes  which  it  is  designed  to  an- 
swer. 

We  are  obviously  intended  for  a  social 
state :  but  the  intercourse  we  are  required  to 
maintain  with  our  fellow-creatures  exposes  us 


SERMON  XVII. 


98 


ijo  innumerable  provocations  and  offences; 
and  the  effects  of  sudden  and  uncontrolled  re- 
sentments would  be  fatal  to  ourselves  and 
others.  Hence  we  are  commanded  to  be 
"  slow  to  wrath ;"  and  to  be  "  patient  towards 
all  men."  And  in  this  forbearance  God  places 
himself  before  us  as  our  example.  He  teaches 
us  a  divine  lesson  of  meekness  and  kindness; 
and  calls  upon  us  to  cherish  that  gentleness 
which  is  not  easily  provoked,  and  to  repress 
those  passions  which  would  impel  us  to  re- 
venge. "  Therefore  is  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven likened  unto  a  certain  king,  which  would 
take  account  of  his  servants.  And  when  he 
had  begun  to  reckon,  one  was  brought  unto 
him  which  owed  him  ten  thousand  talents: 
but  forasmuch  as  he  had  not  to  pay,  his  lord 
commanded  him  to  be  sold,  and  his  wife  and 
children,  and  all  that  he  had,  and  payment  to 
be  made.  The  servant,  therefore,  fell  down, 
and  worshipped  him,  saying,  Lord,  have  pa- 
tience with  me,  and  I  will  pay  thee  all.  Then 
the  lord  of  that  servant  was  moved  with  com- 
passion, and  loosed  him,  and  forgave  him  the 
debt.  But  the  same  servant  went  out,  and 
found  one  of  his  fellow-servants,  which  owed 
him  an  hundred  pence;  and  he  laid  hands  on 
him,  and  took  him  by  the  throat,  saying,  Pay 
me  that  thou  owest.  And  his  fellow-servant 
fell  down  at  his  feet,  and  besought  him,  say- 
ing, Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay 
thee  all.  And  he  would  not ;  but  went,  and 
cast  him  into  prison  till  he  should  pay  the 
debt  So  when  his  fellow-servants  saw  what 
was  done,  they  were  very  sorry,  and  came 
and  told  unto  their  lord  all  that  was  done. 
Then  his  lord,  after  that  he  had  called  him, 
said  unto  him,  O  thou  wicked  servant,  I  for- 
gave thee  all  that  debt,  because  thou  desiredst 
me:  shouldest  not  thou  also  have  had  compas- 
sion on  thy  fellow-servant,  even  as  I  had  pity 
on  thee  !  And  his  lord  was  wroth,  and  deliver- 
ed him  to  the  tormentors,  till  he  should  pay 
all  that  was  due  unto  him.  So  likewise  shall 
my  heavenly  Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye 
from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every  one  his 
brother  their  trespasses." 

If  the  commission  of  sin  were  always  im- 
mediately followed  with  the  punishment  of 
it,  this  world  would  not  be  a  state  of  probation 
— obedience  would  not  be  voluntary,  but  forc- 
ed— we  should  walk,  not  by  faith,  but  by  sight 
— we  should  not  honour  God  by  our  confidence 
in  his  perfections  and  in  the  dispensations  of 
his  Providence — he  would  not  be  "  a  God 
hiding  himself — his  "judgments"  would  not 
be  "  a  great  deep" — and  the  whole  nature 
and  design  of  religion  would  be  subverted. 

IT  the  wrath  of  God  instantly  crushed  every 
transgressor,  he  would  be  the  destroyer  rather 
than  the  governor  of  the  world.  To  destroy, 
is  comparatively  easy,  and  discovers  little  per- 
fection: but  the  wisdom  of  God  appears  in 
reigning  over  the  extravagance  of  the  world  ; 
in  taking  into  his  plans  such  diversities  and 


contradictions,  and  bending  every  thing  he 
meets  with,  however  adverse,  to  his  own  pur- 
poses; in  bringing  good  out  of  evil,  and  order 
out  of  confusion ;  in  making  the  wrath  of  man 
to  praise  him.  It  is  also  worthy  of  our  re- 
mark, that  many  of  those  who  deserve  de- 
struction are  useful,  in  the  present  state  of  the 
world :  they  are  able  to  promote  the  arts  and 
sciences;  and  are  qualified  to  render  great 
services  to  a  country.  Such  men  are  links 
in  the  chain  of  Providence,  and  their  destiny 
secures  them.  There  are  also  purposes  which 
the  wicked  only  can  accomplish.  God  calls 
the  Assyrian,  the  rod  of  his  anger  and  the 
staff of  his  indignation  ;  and  says,  "I  will  send 
him  against  an  hypocritical  nation;  and 
against  the  people  of  my  wrath  will  I  give 
him  a  charge,  to  take  the  spoil,  and  to  take  the 
prey,  and  to  tread  them  clown  like  the  mire 
in  the  streets."  When  he  had  fulfilled  the 
designs  of  Heaven,  in  punishing  some  and 
chastening  others,  he  was  laid  aside.  The 
ungodly,  by  their  continuance,  are  useful  to 
the  righteous:  they  exercise  their  patience, 
call  forth  their  zeal,  and  wean  them  from  the 
present  world. 

Mankind  are  so  variously  and  intimately 
blended  together,  that  it  is  scarcely  possible 
to  strike  an  individual  only,  without  affecting 
others.  Now  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  will  not 
punish  indiscriminately,  and  destroy  the  righ- 
teous with  the  wicked.  He  would  rather 
spare  a  thousand  enemies,  than  injure  one 
friend.  If  ten  righteous  men  had  been  found 
in  Sodom,  the  place  would  have  been  pre- 
served. The  angel  did  not,  yea,  he  said  he 
could  not,  do  any  thing  till  Lot  was  safely  es- 
caped. Why  were  not  the  messengers  suf- 
fered to  eradicate  the  tares?  Because  it  would 
have  been  doing  an  injustice  to  them  1  No — 
but  lest,  "  in  gathering  up  the  tares,  they 
should  also  root  up  the  wheat  with  them." 

But,  above  all,  the  goodness  of  God  is  to  be 
acknowledged  in  this  dispensation.  "  The 
Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise,  as 
some  men  count  slackness:  but  is  long-suffer- 
ing to  us-ward ;  not  willing  that  any  should  pe- 
rish, but  that  all  should  come  to  repentance." 
We  are  to  "  account  that  the  long-suffering  of 
our  Lord  is  salvation."  We  see  this  exemplified 
in  Saul  of  Tarsus.  Had  he,  in  his  way  to  Da- 
mascus, been  smitten  tohell  when  he  was  struck 
to  the  ground,  he  had  never  obtained  mercy ; 
never  have  been  a  Christian,  a  preacher,  an 
apostle.  While  the  execution  of  the  criminal 
is  still  suspended,  a  pardon  may  arrive :  while 
life  continues,  there  is  a  possibility  of  repent- 
ance. "  I  will  give  him,"  says  God,  "  a  long- 
er period — other  means  may  be  more  effec- 
tual I  will  afford  him  a  season  of  recollec- 
tion— he  may  come  to  himself.  I  will  leave 
him — thoughtfulness  may  succeed  levity  : 
disappointment  may  break  the  charm  which 
now  fascinates  him.  He  is  near  the  melan- 
choly consequences  of  his  perverseness — then 


100 


SERMON  XVII. 


he  will  know  what  an  evil  and  bitter  thin? 
it  is  to  forsake  the  Lord.  At  such  a  time  he 
will  lose  the  desire  of  his  eyes  with  a  stroke, 
and  his  children  shall  follow  their  mother  to 
the  grave — then  he  will  enter  his  closet — and 
say — And  now,  Lord,  what  wait  I  for  1  my 
hope  is  even  and  only  in  Thee."  Here, 
Christians,  if  I  knew  your  histories,  perhaps  I 
could  say  to  one  of  you,  Oh !  it  was  well  you 
died  not  before  a  change  in  your  affairs  oc- 
casioned your  removal  to  that  city  ;  for  there 
you  "  heard  words  whereby  you  were  saved." 
To  another,  You  were  mercifully  spared  till 
Providence  brought  you  that  religious  friend ; 
for  he  "guided  your  feet  into  the  path  of 
peace."  "To  a  third,  What  if  you  had  been 
cut  off* in  your  sin  !  You  went  on  frowardly — 
you  proceeded  from  evil  to  evil — a  change 
appeared  hopeless — but  by-and-by  you  began 
to  be  in  want :  all  prodigal  as  you  were,  you 
said,  "  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  father" — Nor 
was  it  too  late — He  came  forth  to  meet  you 
— "  received  you  graciously,  and  loved  you 
freely." — "Therefore  doth  the  Lord  wait, 
that  he  may  be  gracious ;  and  therefore  will 
he  be  exalted,  that  he  may  have  mercy 
upon  you."  Such  is  the  design  of  this  sus- 
pension— But,  alas !  "  let  favour  be  shewed  to 
the  wicked,  yet  will  he  not  learn  righteous- 
ness :"  and  Solomon  reminds  us, 

HI.  That  the  depravity  of  man  turns  di- 
vine clemency  into  presumption,  and  abuses 
the  patience  which  bears  with  him  to  purposes 
the  most  vile.  "Because  sentence  against 
an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  there- 
fore THE  HEART  OF  THE  SONS  OF  MEN  IS  FUL- 
LY SET  IN  THEM  TO  DO  EVIL." 

In  this  mode  of  proceeding  there  is  some- 
thing specious.  Man  is  a  rational  creature, 
and  is  obliged  to  give  his  actions  a  colour  of 
reason.  What  he  cannot  forbear,  he  will  en- 
deavour to  justify:  what  he  cannot  justify, 
he  will  extenuate  :  what  he  cannot  extenu- 
ate, he  will  excuse — and,  unhappily,  he  pos- 
sesses no  little  ingenuity  in  devising  excuses 
to  authorize  the  passions,  or  to  keep  off  re- 
morse and  alarm. 

When  men  begin  a  wicked  course,  con- 
science is  tender,  scrupulous,  fearful.  They 
are  soon  terrified,  and  often  look  immediately 
for  the  punishment  they  have  deserved.  But 
it  does  not  arrive — They  venture  again — The 
expectation  diminishes.  After  many  suc- 
cesses and  impunities,  they  go  forward  care- 
lessly and  boldly.  What  they  once  approached 
with  hesitation,  now  grown  familiar,  ceases  to 
shock.  What  once  made  them  tremble,  is 
now  ridiculed  as  a  trifle.  Where  conscience 
once  thundered,  it  is  now  scarcely  heard. 
They  cannot  think  that  what  produces  no 
evil  consequences  can  be  so  bad  as  they  once 
apprehended.  They  infer  from  the  Divine 
indulgence,  either  that  there  is  no  God,  or  no 
Providence;  either  that  God  does  not  attend 
to  these  things,  or  will  not  punish  them ;  or 


derive  from  his  lenity  such  views  of  hie  good- 
ness as  lead  them  to  conclude  that  it  has  no 
bounds.  There  is  a  disposition  in  the  mind 
to  reason  from  the  past  to  the  future.  Thus, 
because  reprieved  so  often,  Pharaoh  conclud- 
ed he  should  escape  again ;  and  this  encou- 
raged him  to  renew  his  disobedience.  And 
thus  He  who  assigns  motives  and  gives 
language  to  actions  has  said,  "  There  shall 
come  in  the  last  days  scoffers,  walking  af- 
ter their  own  lusts,  and  saying,  Where  is 
the  promise  of  his  coining]  for  since  the  fa- 
thers fell  asleep,  all  things  continue  as  they 
were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation." 
"  These  things  hast  thou  done,  and  I  kept  si- 
lence: and  thou  thoughtest  that  I  wasaltoge- 
ther  such  an  one  as  thyself.  He  hath  said  in 
his  heart,  I  shall  not  be  moved :  for  I  shall 
never  be  in  adversity."  "  Wherefore  doth 
the  wicked  contemn  God  1  He  hath  said  in 
his  heart,  Thou  wilt  not  require  it."  "Be- 
cause sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not 
executed  speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the 
sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil." 
Nothing  is  more  common,  nothing  more  vile, 
nothing  more  fatal,  than  this  perversion. 

First.  Solomon  does  not  draw  the  reflection 
from  a  few  single  instances — Nothing  is  more 
common  than  this  abuse.  Perhaps  many  of 
you  are  examples  of  it.  To  decide  this,  I  ask 
— Would  you  have  continued  in  your  sinful 
courses  to  this  hour,  had  you  not  been  per- 
suaded that  God  would  bear  with  you  7 — 
Would  you  now  perpetrate  another  crime,  if 
you  supposed  that  God  would  instantly  de- 
stroy you  for  it !  Why,  then,  it  is  the  long- 
suffering  of  God,  that  encourages  and  embold- 
ens you  to  go  forward ;  and  you  are  evil  be- 
cause he  is  good. 

Secondly.  Nothing  can  be  more  vile  and 
base  than  this  abuse.  Clemency  affords  you 
a  shelter  from  the  storm ;  and  you  enter ; 
and  then  wound  your  kind  Benefactor,  and 
wound  him  because  he  had  pity  upon  you. 
Had  you  the  least  ingenuousness,  you  could 
not  help  admiring,  and  loving,  and  serving 
such  a  Being — but  you  insult  him  because  of 
his  excellences  and  loving-kindnesses.  You 
sin  because  grace  abounds,  and  choose  to  ap- 
pear a  monster  in  a  garb  of  ingratitude  blacker 
than  hell. 

Thirdly.  Be  assured  nothing  will  be  more 
fatal.  "  God  shall  wound  the  head  of  his  ene- 
mies, and  the  hairy  scalp  of  such  an  one  as 
goeth  on  still  in  his  trespasses."  Mercy  is 
your  final  resource ;  and  when  this  is  provok- 
ed, to  what  can  you  turn  ?  If  a  father  disown 
you,  what  expectation  can  you  have  from  an 
incensed  adversary  ?  God  is,  in  this  case,  pe- 
culiarly concerned  to  shew  his  displeasure. 
He  designed  this  long-suffering  to  answer 
other  purposes;  and  shall  he  be  over-ruled 
and  mocked  1  No ;  he  will  not  lose  the  hon- 
our of  his  patience,  though  you  may  lose  the 
advantage.    If  it  be  not  glorified  in  your  sal- 


SERMON  XVTII. 


101 


vation,  it  will  in  your  destruction.  Wrath 
loses  nothing1  by  sleeping — it  grows  fresher 
by  repose.  The  longer  the  stone  be  in  de- 
scending1, the  heavier  it  falls.  Long  prepara- 
tion indicates  the  more  dreadful  execution. 

Whoever  may  hope  for  audience  in  the 
day  of  visitation,  you  cannot  expect  it. 
"  When  your  fear  cometh  as  desolation,  and 
your  destruction  cometh  as  a  whirlwind ; 
when  distress  and  anguish  cometh  upon  you 
— Then  shall  they  call  upon  me,  but  I  will 
not  answer ;  they  shall  seek  me  early,  but 
they  shall  not  find  me ;  for  that  they  hated 
knowledge,  and  did  not  choose  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  :  they  would  none  of  my  counsel,  they 
despised  all  my  reproof.  Therefore  shall  they 
eat  of  their  own  ways,  and  be  filled  with  their 
own  devices." 

Whoever  may  hope  to  come  off  with  a 
lighter  doom,  you  cannot  expect  it.  Thy 
reckoning  is  increased  by  delay — thou  "de- 
spiscst  the  riches  of  his  goodness,  and  forbear- 
ance, and  long-suffering:  not  knowing  that 
the  goodness  of  God  leadeth  thee  to  repent- 
ance ;  but  after  thy  hardness  and  impenitent 
heart,  treasurest  up  unto  thyself  wrath  against 
the  day  of  wrath,  and  revelation  of  the  righ- 
teous judgment  of  God."  "  But,  and  if  that 
servant  say  in  his  heart,  my  Lorddelayeth  his 
coming;  and  shall  begin  to  beat  the  men  ser- 
vants and  maidens,  and  to  eat  and  drink,  and 
to  be  drunken;  the  Lord  of  that  servant  will 
come  in  a  day  when  he  looketh  not  for  him, 
and  in  an  hour  when  he  is  not  aware ;  and 
will  cut  him  in  sunder,  and  will  appoint  him 
his  portion  with  the  unbelievers." 

Whoever  may  hope  to  be  apprized  of  his 
danger,  surely  you  cannot  expect  it.  "  He 
that  being  often  reproved  hardeneth  his  neck, 
shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that  without 
remedy."  "  For  when  they  shall  say,  Peace 
and  safety,  then  sudden  destruction  cometh 
upon  them,  as  travail  upon  a  woman  with 
child  ;  and  they  shall  not  escape." 

And  do  you  promise  yourself  exemption  al- 
ways 3 — Even  the  patience  of  the  vine-dresser 
has  an  end :  he  only  prayed  for  another  year ; 
and  perhaps  this  was  more  than  eleven  months 
ago.  Are  you  sure  that  he  who  waited  to- 
day, will  wait  to-morrow  also?  Having  stood 
so  long  knocking,  will  he  never  depart?  May 
he  not  withdraw,  this  very  evening,  saying, 
"  O  that  thou  hadst  known  in  this  thy  day  the 
things  which  belong  to  thy  peace !  but  now 
they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes." 

But  at  present  this  is  not  your  case.  Your 
harvest  is  not  yet  past,  your  summer  is  not  yet 
ended.  The  lives  of  some  of  you  are  spared 
even  to  old  age.  Grey  hairs  are  here  and 
there  upon  you ;  and  each  of  them  proclaims 
the  patience  of  God.  You  are  in  his  House 
— and  before  his  Throne — and  capable  of 
hearing  his  Word.  He  has  seen  all  your  sin, 
and  abhorred  all.  He  has  had  you  completely 
in  his  power :  he  could  have  frowned  you  in- 
9* 


to  perdition.  He  has  guarded  you  from  acci- 
dents, and  raised  you  up  from  beds  of  lan- 
guishing. How  many,  once  your  companions 
in  folly  and  sin,  have  been  removed  !  where 
are  they  now  ?  O  let  this  goodness  encourage 
you — not  to  sin,  but  to  pray.  Approach,  and 
kneel  before  him.  "  O  Thou,  who  hast  given 
me  space,  give  me  also  grace  to  repent.  I 
am  now  sensible  of  my  guilt,  and  of  thy  good- 
ness. I  now  know  what  misery  I  have  de- 
served, and  what  a  blessedness  thy  mercy  is 
ready  to  bestow.  I  am  filled  with  sorrow, 
and  shame,  and  self-abhorrence,  to  think  that 
I  have  so  long  transgressed  thy  Law,  and  de- 
spised thy  Gospel ;  provoked  thy  justice,  and 
contemned  thy  grace.  If,  after  all,  Thou 
wilt  be  favourable  to  such  an  ungrateful 
wretch,  and  accept  the  remains  of  a  sinful 
life,  I  here  devote  all  I  am,  and  all  I  have,  to 
Thee.  Thee  I  will  love  and  obey.  Adieu, 
my  vain  and  foolish  desires,  my  degrading 
lusts,  my  unprofitable  pursuits — Pardon — 
Heaven  is  even  now  attainable,  and  I  am  fol- 
lowing after  it.  O  my  God  !  enable  me  to 
run  and  not  be  weary,  and  to  walk  and  not 
faint."  May  God  inspire  you  with  these  sen- 
timents !  To  Him  be  glory  and  dominion  for 
ever  and  ever.  Amen. 


SE  RMON  XVIII. 


ASSURANCE. 
In  this  the  children  of  God  are  manifest,  and 
the  children  of  the  Devil :  -whosoever  doeth 
not  righteousness  is  not  of  God  ;  neither  he 
that  loveth  not  his  brother. —  1  John  iii.  10. 

My  Brethren,  when  God  would  admonish 
and  encourage  Jeremiah  in  the  discharge  of 
his  office,  he  said,  "  If  thou  take  forth  the 
precious  from  the  vile,  thou  shalt  be  as  my 
mouth."  This  address  determines  the  duty 
of  every  preacher,  who  would  "make  full 
proof  of  his  ministry."  It  requires  him  to  at- 
tend peculiarly  to  the  states  of  his  hearers; 
to  delineate  character;  to  bring  forward  fre- 
quently and  boldly  the  difference  between  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked ;  and  to  apply  with 
confidence  and  wisdom  the  threatenings  and 
promises  of  the  Scripture,  for  the  conviction 
of  the  sinner,  and  the  consolation  of  the  godly. 

In  this  manner  our  Apostle  studied  to  shew 
himself  approved  unto  God, — "  a  workman 
that  needed  not  to  be  ashamed,  rightly  divid- 
ing the  word  of  truth." — "  In  this,  the  chil- 
dren of  God  are  manifest,  and  the  children  of 
the  Devil :  whosoever  doeth  not  righteousness 
is  not  of  God  ;  neither  he  that  loveth  not  his 
brother." 

Of  the  persons  here  mentioned  we  shall 
consider  three  things.  I.  The  character  by 
which  thoy  are  described.  II.  The  manner  in 
which  they  are  discovered.  III.  The  marks 
by  which  they  are  distinguished. 


102 


SERMON  XVIII. 


Men  and  Brethren !  While  I  am  endeavour- 
ing to  explain  and  improve  a  subject  so  im- 
portant, let  me  entreat  you  to  employ  your 
minds,  not  in  determining  the  condition  of 
others,  but  in  judging  your  own  :  "  let  every 
man  prove  his  own  work,  and  then  shall  he 
have  rejoicing  in  himself  alone  and  not  in  ano- 
ther: for  every  man  shall  bear  his  own  bur- 
den." 

I.  The  persons  opposed  are  The  children 
of  God,  and  the  children  of  the  Devil. 
To  suppo.se  that  there  are  no  such  characters, 
would  be  a  reflection  upon  the  wisdom  of  the 
inspired  writer  in  making  the  comparison. 
But  let  us  consider  the  meaning  and  impor- 
tance of  the  titles. — "  The  children  of  God, 
and  the  children  of  the  devil,"  mean  good  and 
bad  men.  It  is  common  in  the  Scripture  to  call 
persons,  distinguished  by  any  quality  or  ac- 
quisition, the  children  of  those  from  whom  it 
was  originally  derived,  or  by  whom  it  was 
pre-eminently  possessed.  Thus  we  read  in 
the  Book  of  Genesis,  that  "  Jabal  was  the  Fa- 
ther of  such  as  d  well  in  tents,  and  of  such  as 
have  cattle ;  and  that  Jubal  was  the  Father 
of  all  such  as  handle  the  harp  and  the  organ." 
And  thus  they  who  have  the  faith  and  do  the 
works  of  Abraham,  are  called  the  Children 
of  Abraham. — The  devil  is  the  introducer  of 
evil :  the  wicked  morally  proceed  from  him — 
partake  of  his  depravity — resemble  him — are 
proud  like  him,  are  liars  like  him,  and  so  of 
the  rest.  Hence,  says  our  Apostle,  "  He  that 
committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil,  for  the  devil 
sinneth  from  the  beginning."  And  hence 
our  Lord  says  to  the  Jews,  who  were  endea- 
vouring to  accuse  and  destroy  him,  "  Ye  are 
of  your  father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of  your 
father  you  will  do.  He  was  a  murderer  from 
the  beginning,  and  abode  not  in  the  truth, 
because  there  is  no  truth  in  him.  When  he 
speakcth  a  lie,  he  speaketh  of  his  own :  for  he 
is  a  liar,  and  the  father  of  it." — God  is  the  au- 
thor of  all  goodness ;  and  Christians  are  said 
to  be  "born  of  him" — to  be  "  partakers  of  the 
divine  nature" — to  be  "  followers  of  him  as 
dear  children."  They  admire  his  excellences, 
and  imitate  his  perfections.  Is  he  a  God  of 
truth  1  They  walk  in  the  truth.  Is  he  holy  1 
They  are  holy.  Is  he  merciful  1  They  are 
merciful. — And  thus  they  are  "the  children 
of  their  Father  which  is  in  heaven :  for  he 
maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the 
good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the 
unjust."  The  sinner  makes  the  devil  his 
model,  and  every  degree  of  transgression  adds 
to  the  likeness.  The  believer  aspires  after 
conformity  to  the  highest  of  all  examples; 
and  as  he  grows  in  grace,  he  is  "  changed 
into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory,  even 
as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord. 

These  are  the  persons  here  described  by 
the  characters  of  "  the  children  of  God,  and 
the  children  of  the  devil."  This  division  is 
the  most  general  and  universal.    It  extends 


to  all  mankind ;  and,  by  o  classification  the 
most  eimple,  reduces  the  innumerable  diver- 
sities of  the  human  race  into  two  orders.  It 
enters  this  house,  and  arranges  this  assembly : 
it  finds  no  individual  in  a  state  of  neutrality : 
it  instantly  blends  each  of  you  with  those  chil- 
dren of  wrath,  or  with  these  heirs  of  glory. 

It  is  also  a  division  the  most  serious  and 
eventful.  It  overlooks  every  thing  adven- 
titious, and  considers  only  character.  It 
passes  by  the  distinctions  of  speech,  complex- 
ion, rank;  and  regards  the  soul  and  eternity. 
It  views  even  the  diversities,  which  arise 
from  the  endowments  of  nature  and  the  gitts 
of  Providence,  as  nothing,  compared  with 
those  which  spring  from  faith  and  infidelity, 
holiness  and  sin.  How  soon  will  the  differ- 
ence between  the  learned  and  illiterate,  ty- 
rants and  slaves,  poor  and  rich,  be  abolished ! 
— Death  levels  them  all,  and  sends  them  into 
the  world  of  spirits,  not  as  lords  or  vassals  ; 
not  saying,  This  came  from  a  mansion,  and 
this  from  a  cottage — He  separates  by  a  more 
unchangeable  rule  of  discrimination — This 
was  a  true  worshipper  of  God  on  earth ;  let 
him  enter  the  temple  above :  this  made  the 
wicked  his  choice  and  his  companions;  let 
him  be  led  forth  with  the  workers  of  iniquity. 
Death  decides  the  importance  of  every  claim  : 
your  true  greatness  is  your  final ;  and  those 
distinctions  are  alone  worthy  of  your  regard, 
which,  being  internal  and  spiritual,  will  ad- 
here to  you  when  you  leave  every  thing  else 
behind,  and  which  will  remain  with  you  for 
ever. 

Let  us  consider,  farther,  what  results  from 
these  relations.  According  as  you  are  "  the 
children  of  God,  or  the  children  of  the  devil," 
you  are  crowned  with  honour,  or  covered  with 
disgrace.  How  did  David  prize  an  alliance 
which  made  him  son-in-law  to  the  King ! 
How  vain  are  the  people  of  their  lineage  and 
extraction  ! — But  to  be  "  sons  and  daughters 
of  the  Lord  Almighty"  confers  substantial 
dignity,  unfading  honour,  in  comparison  with 
which,  all  the  glory  derived  from  secular  no- 
bility vanishes  into  smoke.  Upon  this  princi- 
ple, what  infamy  attaches  to  the  sinner — who 
has  for  his  father  the  devil,  a  rebel,  a  traitor, 
who  forfeited  his  inheritance,  and  is  bound  in 
chains  of  darkness,  a  murderer,  the  most  ac- 
cursed being  in  the  universe ! — And  what 
renders  him  more  worthy  of  reproach,  and 
draws  from  us  execration  where  otherwise 
we  should  rather  show  pity,  is,  that  this  is  all 
his  choice,  that  he  is  not  ashamed  to  acknow- 
ledge the  relation — every  time  he  sins,  he 
calls  him  Father — every  time  he  swears, 
slanders,  takes  revenge,  Observe,  says  he,  my 
pedigree,  and  behold  the  example  I  copy. 

Upon  these  connections  innumerable  privi- 
leges or  evils  depend.  Are  you  the  children  of 
God"!  Heaven  is  your  home :  it  is  your  Father's 
house,  where  are  many  mansions.  He  has  in 
reserve  for  you  an  inheritance  incorruptible 


SERMON  XVIII. 


103 


and  undofiled,  and  that  fadcth  not  away. 
And  here  you  shall  want  "no  good  thing." 
«  Your  heavenly  Father  knoweth  what  things 
ye  have  need  of  helbre  you  ask  him."  Have 
you  afflictions?  He  will  pity  you  "as  a  Fa- 
ther pitieth  his  children."  Have  you  infirmi- 
ties? He  will  spare  you,  "as  a  man  sparetli 
his  own  son  that  serveth  him."  Are  you  to 
be  prepared  for  a  "  high  calling  ?"  You  shall 
"  be  all  taught  of  the  Lord."  Do  you  require 
care  and  attention  ?  The  angels  shall  be  your 
guardians :  "  are  they  not  all  ministering 
spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for  them  who 
shall  be  the  heirs  of  salvation  1''  But,  my  dear 
hearers — I  leave  you  to  rill  up  the  remaining 
article,  and  to  think  of  the  children  of  the 
wicked  one.  I  leave  you  to  reflect  upon  the 
miseries  they  endure,  from  their  perplexities, 
their  fears,  their  passions,  and  their  pursuits 
in  life.  I  leave  you  to  look  forward  to  the 
horrors  which  will  devour  them  in  a  dying 
hour;  to  follow  them  homk,  and  to  contem- 
plate their  portion  "  with  thedevil  and  his 
angels."  "  The  way  of  transgressors  is  hard." 
— "  The  end  of  these  things  is  death."  It  is 
therefore,  above  all  things,  necessary  for  you 
to  know  in  which  of  these  classes  you  rank  : 
and  we  are  going  to  shew, 

II.  The  possibility  of  ascertaining  this. 
The  children  of  God,  and  the  children  of  the 
devil,  are  manifest.  Observe,  it  is  not  spok- 
en of  as  a  future,  but  as  a  present  discovery — 
they  are  manifest.  There  is  indeed  a  period 
of  separation  approaching,  when  those  who 
are  now  blended  shall  be  detached  from  each 
other,  and  mingle  no  more.  It  is  called 
"the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God." 
"  Every  man's  work  shall  be  made  manifest, 
for  the  day  shall  declare  it."  This  "will 
bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  darkness, 
and  make  manifest  the  counsels  of  the  hearts ; 
and  then  shall  every  man  have  praise  of  God." 
"  And  then  shall  ye  return  and  discern  be- 
tween the  righteous  and  the  wicked,  between 
him  that  serveth  God  and  him  that  serveth 
him  not."  But  even  now  they  arc  to  be  dis- 
covered, though  not  sufficiently  and  perfectly 
known.  They  "arc  manifest."  You  ask, 
To  whom  ? 

First.  They  are  manifest  to  God.  It  is 
impossible  to  impose  upon  him  :  he  "  is  not 
mocked."  "  His  eyes  are  in  every  place,  be- 
holding the  evil  and  the  good."  He  "  know- 
eth them  that  are  his ;"  and  he  knoweth  them 
that  are  not  his :  "  neither  is  there  any  crea- 
ture that  is  not  manifest  in  his  sight ;  but  all 
things  are  naked  and  open  unto  the  eyes  of 
Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do." 

Secondly.  They  are  manifest  to  others. 
The  tree  is  known  by  its  fruit.  "  A  good 
man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart 
bringeth  forth  good  things,  and  an  evil  man 
out  of  the  evil  treasure  of  his  heart  bringeth 
forth  evil  tilings."  The  partakers  of  divine 
grace  are  designed  to  be  distinguished  from 


others:  they  arc  to  appear  religious,  as  well 
as  be  so ;  they  are  to  hold  forth  the  word  of 
life;  to  reprove  and  convince  others:  their 
light  is  to  "shine  before  men,  that  they  may 
see  their  good  works,  and  glorify  their  Father 
who  is  in  heaven."  And  surely  there  must 
be  an  observable  difference  between  them  and 
others.  It  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
persons,  whose  principles,  and  aims,  and  rules 
of  action,  are  not  only  so  widely  different, 
but  so  completely  opposite,  can  be  undistin- 
guishingly  confounded  together.  The  differ- 
ence is  not  indeed  so  conspicuous  as  it  ought 
to  be — but  this  arises  from  the  imperfect  de- 
gree of  their  religion:  for  when  they  live  as 
they  ought,  they  "  declare  plainly  that  they 
seek  a  country ;"  "  they  are  manifestly  the 
epistles  of  Jesus  Christ,  known  and  read  of 
all  men." 

Thirdly.  They  are  manifest  to  themselves. 
It  will  readily  be  acknowledged  that  it  is  not 
possible  for  a  man  to  be  wicked  without 
knowing  it.  He  cannot  live  in  the  practice 
of  sin,  and  in  the  omission  of  the  various  du- 
ties of  religion ;  he  cannot  love  the  one,  and 
hate  the  other;  and  not  be  conscious  of  it. 
But  is  the  same  true  of  a  good  man  ! — In  re- 
ply to  this,  suffer  me  to  ask  two  things — First. 
Is  it  not  necessary  for  him  to  be  able  to  know 
his  character  ?  If  promises  are  made  to  a  re- 
ligious state,  how  can  he  claim  these  promises 
unless  he  can  determine  that  he  is  in  this 
state?  If  privileges  are  suspended  upon  duty, 
how  can  he  rejoice  in  these  privileges,  unless 
he  can  determine  that  he  has  performed  this 
duty  ?  Secondly.  What  is  religion  ?  An  unin- 
telligible mystery?  a  charm?  an  operation 
which  passes  upon  us  and  leaves  no  trace  be- 
hind ? — Is  it  not  the  most  serious  and  impres- 
sive concern  in  which  we  were  ever  engaged  ? 
— Does  it  not  excite  fears  and  hopes,  joys  and 
sorrows,  far  superior  to  those  which  can  arise 
from  any  other  source  ? — Does  it  not  involve 
us  in  a  succession  of  difficulties,  oppositions, 
and  warfare  ? — Is  it  not  a  general  and  conti- 
nued course  of  action  ?  The  business  of  life,  to 
which  we  endeavour  to  render  every  thing  else 
subordinate  and  subservient  ?  Our  prevailing 
aim  ?  our  chief  care  ? — And  is  this  incapable  of 
being  known  ?  But  these  are  the  views  which 
you  should  take  of  religion ;  and  by  these 
your  condition  is  to  be  tried — which  brings  us, 

III.  To  consider  the  marks  of  distinction 
between  these  characters.  "  In  this  the 
children  of  God  are  manifest,  an«the  children 
of  the  devil." 

In  what  ?  Not  in  temporal  success.  This 
is  given  or  withheld  too  indiscriminately  to 
allow  of  our  knowing  love  or  hatred  :  In  this, 
"  all  things  come  alike  to  all :  there  is  one 
event  to  the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked.  As 
is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner ;  and  he  that 
sweareth,  as  he  that  feareth  an  oath." — 

In  what  ?  Not  in  religious  profession.  Ju- 
das and  Demas  were  both  visible  members  of 


104 


SERMON  XVIII. 


the  Church  of  God.  There  have  always  been 
many  who  had  a  name  to  live,  while  they 
were  dead  ;  and  assumed  a  form  of  godliness, 
while  they  denied  the  power  thereof.  In  our 
day,  all  this  is  too  cheap  to  be  valuable ;  too 
common  to  be  distinguishing'. — 

In  what?  Not  in  talking — not  in  contro- 
versy— not  in  a  sound  creed — not  in  the  pro- 
nunciation of  the  Shibboleths  of  a  particular 
party. — How  few,  in  answering  this  question, 
would  have  adduced  the  practice  of  righ- 
teousness, AND  THE  EXERCISE  OF  LOVE  !  

But  such  is  the  distinction  of  our  Apostle.  In 
this  the  children  of  God  are  manifest,  and 
the  children  of  the  devil :  he  that  doeth  not 
righteousness  is  not  of  God,  neither  he  that 
loveth  not  his  brother. 

And  here  we  may  observe,  First.  The 
manner  in  which  the  subject  is  expressed.  It 
is  held  forth  negatively — Nor  is  this  with- 
out design.  It  reminds  us  that  omissions  de- 
cide the  character,  even  where  there  is  no  po- 
sitive vice.  It  is  the  representation  of  the 
ungodly,  that  "  he  hath  left  off  to  be  wise  and  to 
do  good."  The  "  unprofitable"  servant  is  call- 
ed a  11  wicked"  one ;  and  condemned,  not  be- 
cause he  abused  his  talent,  but  because  he 
"  hid  it  in  a  napkin."  And  "  every  tree  that 
bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn 
down  and  cast  into  the  fire :  he  that  doeth  not 
righteousness  is  not  of  God,  neither  he  that 
loveth  not  his  brother." 

Secondly.  The  union  of  these  excellences 
is  worthy  of  our  notice.  We  commonly  see 
them  combined  in  the  Scripture.  It  is  said 
of  a  good  man,  "  He  is  gracious,  and  full  of 
compassion,  and  righteous."  "He  hath  dis- 
persed ;  he  hath  given  to  the  poor :  his  righ- 
teousness endureth  for  ever."  It  is  said  also, 
that  "  pure  and  undefiled  religion  before  God 
and  the  father  is  this,  to  visit  the  fatherless 
and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world."  And  this 
enables  us  to  rectify  the  mistake  of  those 
who  are  always  endeavouring  to  separate 
what  God  has  joined  together.  Some  place 
their  religion  entirely  in  charity,  and  in  one 
equivocal  exercise  of  it — for  all  they  mean  by 
charity  is  alms-giving;  and  "this  covers  a 
multitude  of  sins."  And  some  trust  in  them- 
selves that  they  are  righteous  and  despise 
others,  who  never  seem  to  have  read  that "  the 
end  of  the  commandment  is  charity  out  of  a 
pure  heart,  and  a  good  conscience,  and  faith 
unfeigned ;"  that  "charity  is  the  bond  of  per- 
fectness ;"  that  "  by  this  shall  all  men  know 
that  we  are  his  disciples,  if  we  love  one  ano- 
ther." 

Thirdly.  From  these  arises  a  criterion, 
by  which  we  are  to  judge  of  the  reality  and 
genuineness  of  religion. — Not  that  these  are 
the  only  marks  which  we  are  to  employ; 
there  are  many  other  evidences  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  some  of  them  of  a  more  experiment-  [ 


al  kind,  which  we  dare  not  depreciate — but 
all  the  rest  will  be  vain  and  delusive  if  unac- 
companied with  this  righteousness  and  this 
love.  These  are  the  never-failing  conse- 
quences of  divine  grace.  These  enter  deeply 
into  the  character.  These  are  indispensable. 
By  these  we  shall  be  tried  hereafter — By  these 
we  should  form  our  judgment  here — The 
Judge  himself  proposes  this  rule:  "In  this 
the  children  of  God  are  manifest,  and  the  chil- 
dren of  the  devil :  he  that  doeth  not  righ- 
teousness is  not  of  God,  neither  he  that  loveth 
not  his  brother." 

Let  me  conclude  by  calling  upon  you  to  think 
of  this — in  forming  a  judgment  of  others.  It 
is  a  serious  thing  to  deprive  a  fellow-creature 
of  religion,  and  to  exclude  him  from  eternal 
life ;  and  what  authority  have  you  for  doing 
so,  if  his  life  be  exemplary,  and  righteousness 
and  charity  blend  and  prevail  in  his  charac- 
ter ?  You  say,  perhaps,  A  man  may  appear  to 
possess  these  things  when  he  is  a  stranger  to 
the  reality,  or  his  practice  may  flow  from  no  in- 
ward or  gracious  principle.  We  allow  this , 
and  it  becomes  such  a  person  to  examine  him- 
self, to  see  whether  his  heart  be  right  with 
God,  and  whether  his  views  and  his  disposi- 
tions be  such  as  the  Gospel  requires — But 
when  I  form  a  judgment  concerning  him,  the 
case  is  materially  altered.  I  have  nothing  to 
do  with  his  motives;  I  cannot  search  his 
heart:  his  life  and  conversation  only  fall  un- 
der my  cognizance ;  and  these  are  my  rule — 
"by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  When 
will  this  necessary  difference  influence  the 
opinions  of  individuals  ?  When  will  it  be  re- 
garded by  our  churches  in  the  admission  of 
members  to  communion  1  When  we  find  no- 
thing objectionable  in  a  candidate — who  tells 
us  to  keep  him  back  till  we  find  something 
satisfactory  1  "  In  this  the  children  of  God  are 
manifest,  and  the  children  of  the  devil :  he 
that  doeth  not  righteousness  is  not  of  God, 
neither  he  that  loveth  not  his  brother." 

Above  all,  do  not  forget  this,  in  judging 
yourselves.  I  presume  you  wish  to  know 
your  spiritual  condition,  and  that  you  are  not 
willing  to  leave  your  eternal  salvation  to  a 
mere  peradventure — Perhaps  I  shall  be  saved ; 
perhaps  I  shall  be  lost ! !  "  Wherefore,  bre- 
thren, give  all  diligence  to  make  your  calling 
and  election  sure."  But  beware  how  you  pro- 
ceed in  the  inquiry.  Remember  that  there 
are  marks  and  evidences  which  cannot  lead 
you  to  a  certain  and  safe  conclusion.  Do  not 
place  your  confidence  in  speculative  opinions: 
be  not  influenced  by  particular  feelings, 
which  having  much  of  animal  nature  in  them, 
may  sometimes  elevate  and  sometimes  de- 
press you,  while  your  state  is  the  same :  do 
not  wait  for  sudden  impressions,  and  vision- 
ary suggestions ;  but  remember  that  the  wit- 
ness and  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  are  his  work 
and  influences.    "  Hereby  we  know  that  we 


SERMON  XIX. 


105 


dwell  in  him  and  he  in  us,  because  he  hath 
given  us  of  his  Spirit."  "  If  any  man  have 
not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his." — 

Here  then  lay  the  stress.  Try  yours  by 
your  prevailing  dispositions,  and  the  tenour 
of  your  lives.  Many,  I  know,  deride  such  a 
standard — it  is  legal.  They  derive  their  as- 
surance from  some  other  source ;  especially 
from  "  a  direct  act  of  faith ;"  or,  in  other 
words,  from  a  persuasion  into  which  they 
work  themselves,  without  being  able  to  assign 
any  reason  whatever  to  justify  it,  save  the 
consciousness  itself.  They  not  only  reject 
good  works,  like  others,  as  causes  of  salvation, 
but  they  reject  them  even  as  evidences  too. 
They  are  not  satisfied,  like  others,  to  exclude 
them  from  their  justification :  they  exclude 
them  even  from  their  sanctification  too,  which 
with  them  means  only  a  relative  change.  May 
you  be  preserved,  my  dear  brethren,  from  this 
dreadful  perversion  of  "  ungodly  men,  who 
turn  the  grace  of  God  into  lasciviousness." 
Remember,  nothing  can  be  so  awful  as  final 
deception :  and  nothing  can  more  certainly 
expose  you  to  it,  than  imagining  yourselves 
the  favourites  of  Heaven,  while  you  are  stran- 
gers to  the  renewing  power  of  divine  grace, 
and  your  tempers  and  lives  are  under  none  of 
the  purifying  and  affectionate  influences  of 
the  Gospel.  "  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with 
them  that  fear  him."  "  The  meek  will  he 
guide  in  judgment,  and  the  meek  will  he  teach 
his  way."  They,  to  whom  there  is  no  con- 
demnation because  they  are  in  Christ,  "  walk 
not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit." 
"  He  that  is  born  of  God,  overcometh  the 
world."  "By  this  we  know  that  we  do 
know  him,  if  we  keep  his  commandments." 
These  are  the  true  sayings  of  God  ;  and  such 
is  the  invariable  reference  of  the  Scripture. 

Suffer  me  then  to  ask  you  what  you  know 
of  these  things.  Are  you  doing  righteous- 
ness 1  and  are  you  doing  it — not  reluctantly, 
but  with  pleasure? — not  occasionally,  but 
constantly? — not  partially,  but  without  re- 
serve 1  Do  you  "  esteem  all  his  command- 
ments concerning  all  things  to  be  right,"  and 
do  you  "  hate  every  false  way  V  Are  your 
infirmities  your  afflictions  ?  and  do  you  derive 
from  them  motives  to  vigilance  and  prayer  ? 
or  are  you  satisfied  and  careless  under  them  1 
Do  you  "love  your  brother  also!"  Do  you 
regard  all  your  fellow-creatures  and  fellow 
Christians  ?  And  as  you  have  opportunity,  do 
you  do  good  unto  all  men  ;  especially  unto 
"those  who  are  of  the  household  of  faith?" 
Does  this  principle  actuate  you  to  afford  them 
relief,  to  bear  their  burdens,  to  seek  their  wel- 
fare, and  to  serve  them  at  the  expense  of  self- 
denial? 

If  this  be  not  your  condition,  it  is  well  to 
know  it ;  and  it  will  be  your  mercy  to  lay  it 
to  heart.  For  your  case,  though  bad,  is  not 
desperate.  If  you  are  now  sensible  of  your 
sin,  and  really  desirous  of  conversion,  he 


calls,  he  encourages  you.  "  Wash  ye,  make 
ye  clean  ;  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doings 
from  before  mine  eyes;  cease  to  do  evil; 
learn  to  do  well;  seek  judgment,  relieve 
the  oppressed,  judge  the  fatherless,  plead  for 
the  widow.  Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  to- 
gether, saith  the  Lord ;  though  your  sins 
be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as  snow ; 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall 
be  as  wool.  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way, 
and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts:  and 
let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will 
have  mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our  God,  for 
he  will  abundantly  pardon."  And  what  he 
requires,  he  also  bestows."  Read  his  promises 
in  connection  with  his  commands.  W  hile  the 
one  determines  your  work,  the  other  insures 
you  ability  for  the  performance  of  it.  Beseech 
Him  to  create  in  you  a  clean  heart,  and  to  re- 
new a  right  spirit  within  you.  Depend  upon 
his  grace,  which  will  be  "  sufficient  for  you ;" 
and  "  being  made  free  from  sin,  and  become 
servants  to  God,  you  will  have  your  fruit  un- 
to holiness,  and  the  end  everlasting  life.  For 
the  wages  of  sin  is  death  ;  but  the  gift  of  God 
is  eternal  life,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 
Amen. 


SERMON  XIX. 


DOMESTIC  HAPPINESS. 
The  voice  of  rejoicing-  is  in  the  tabernacles  of 
the  righteous. — Psalm  cxviii.  15. 

Nothing  can  more  usefully  engage  our  at- 
tention than  Human  Nature  and  Human  Life. 
The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  Man.  His 
origin  and  his  end  ;  the  structure  of  his  body 
and  the  powers  of  his  mind ;  his  situation  and 
his  connections ;  are  all  capable  of  yielding 
us  boundless  and  edifying  instruction. 

In  observing  mankind,  the  private  and  fa- 
miliar views  of  their  character  are  by  far  the 
most  curious,  interesting,  and  profitable.  The 
greater  part  of  our  history  is  composed  of  mi- 
nute and  common  incidents :  and  little  and 
ordinary  things  serve  more  to  discover  a  man, 
and  conduce  more  to  render  him  useful,  than 
splendid  and  rare  occurrences.  Abroad,  a 
man  appears  cautious ;  at  home,  he  is  unre- 
served. Abroad,  he  is  artificial ;  at  home,  he 
is  real.  Abroad,  he  is  serviceable ;  at  home, 
he  is  necessary.  And  of  this  we  may  be  ful- 
ly assured — that  a  man  is  in  truth  what  he  is 
in  his  own  family — whether  vicious  or  virtu- 
ous, tyrannical  or  mild,  miserable  or  happy. 

My  Brethren,  we  are  going  to  enter  one  of 
those  houses,  of  which  David  speaks — a  ta- 
bernacle "filled  with  the  voice  of  rejoicing." 

Domestic  Felicity  is  our  present  subject. 
Let  us  consider  two  things :  the  importance, 
and  the  source  of  this  happiness.  I.  What 
may  be  said  in  commendation  of  it.  II. 
What  will  be  necessary  to  the  posses- 
sion of  it.  O  Thou,  who  hast  said  "  It  is 
not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,"  "  God  of  the 


SERMON  XIX. 


108 

families  of  all  the  earth,"  may  thy  secret  be 
upon  our  tabernacles.  Under  the  influence 
of  thy  Providence  and  Grace,  may  we  derive 
from  our  unions  all  the  blessedness  they  are 
capable  of  affording:  and  to  this  end,  guide 
and  sanctify  our  meditations. 

Part  I.  One  of  the  most  agreeable  scenes 
we  can  ever  survey  upon  earth,  is  a  peace- 
ful and  happy  family :  where  friendship  comes 
in  to  draw  more  closely  the  bonds  of  na- 
ture ;  where  the  individuals  resemble  the  hu- 
man body,  and  if  one  member  suffer,  all 
the  members  suffer  with  it,  and  if  one  mem- 
ber be  honoured,  all  the  members  rejoice ; — 
where  every  care  is  divided,  every  sorrow 
diminished,  every  joy  redoubled,  by  discovery, 
by  sympathy,  by  communion ;  where  mutual 
confidence  prevails,  and  advice,  consolation, 
and  succour  are  reciprocally  given  and  re- 
ceived. To  such  a  sight  God  himself  calls 
our  attention.  "  Behold  how  good  and  plea- 
sant a  thing  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  toge- 
ther in  unity  !"  Some  things  are  good,  but  not 
pleasant ;  and  some  things  are  pleasant,  but 
not  good — Here  both  are  combined  ;  and  the 
effect  is  fragrant  as  the  sacred  perfume,  and 
reviving  as  the  influences  of  Heaven.  "  It  is 
like  the  precious  ointment  upon  the  head, 
that  ran  down  upon  the  beard,  even  Aaron's 
beard  ;  that  went  down  to  the  skirts  of  his 
garments  ;  as  the  dew  of  Hermon,  and  as  the 
dew  that  descended  upon  the  mountains  of 
Zion :  for  there  the  Lord  commanded  his  bless- 
ing, even  life  for  evermore."  Let  us  esta- 
blish the  importance  of  Domestic  Happiness, 
by  taking  some  particular  views  of  its  con- 
nections and  influence. 

And,  First,  We  may  consider  it  in  reference 
to  our  avocations  and  cares.  These  are 
numerous  and  diversified,  and  demand  relaxa- 
tion and  relief.  Who  could  endure  perpetual 
drudgery  and  fatigue  ? — and  what  so  refresh- 
ing, so  soothing,  so  satisfying,  as  the  placid 
joys  of  home ! 

See  the  traveller.  Does  duty  call  him  for 
a  season  to  leave  his  beloved  circle'!  The 
image  of  his  earthly  happiness  continues  vi- 
vidly in  his  remembrance — it  quickens  him 
to  diligence — it  cheers  him  under  difficulties 
— it  makes  him  hail  the  hour  which  sees  his 
purpose  accomplished,  and  his  face  turned  to- 
wards home — it  communes  with  him  as  he 
journeys — and  he  hears  the  promise  which 
causes  him  to  hope,  "Thou  shalt  know 
also  that  thy  tabernacle  shall  be  in  peace ; 
and  thou  shalt  visit  thy  habitation,  and  not 
sin."  Oh,  the  joyful  re-union  of  a  divided 
family ;  the  pleasures  of  renewed  interview 
and  conversation,  after  days  of  absence ! 

Behold  the  man  of  science.  He  drops  the  la- 
bour and  painfulness  of  research — closes  his  vo- 
lume— smoothes  his  wrinkled  brows — leaves 
his  study — and  unbending  himself,  stoops  to 
the  capacities,  yields  to  the  wishes,  and  min- 
gles with  the  diversions  of  his  children — And 


lie  will  nnt  blush  that  has  ft  father's  heart, 
"  To  take  in  childish  play  a  childish  part; 
"  But  bends  his  sturdy  hack  to  any  toy 
"  That  youth  takes  pleasure  in,  to  please  his  boy." 

Take  the  man  of  trade.  What  reconciles 
him  to  the  toil  of  business?  What  enables 
him  to  endure  the  fastidiousness  and  imperti- 
nence of  customers?  What  rewards  him  for 
so  many  hours  of  tedious  confinement  '!  By- 
and-by  the  season  of  intercourse  will  arrive 
— he  will  be  embosomed  in  the  caresses  of 
his  family — he  will  behold  the  desire  of  his 
eyes,  and  the  children  of  his  love,  for  whom 
he  resigns  his  ease — and  in  their  welfare  and 
smiles  he  will  find  his  recompense. 

Yonder  comes  the  labourer.  He  has  borne 
the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day :  the  descend- 
ing sun  has  released  him  from  his  toil,  and  he 
is  hastening  home  to  enjoy  repose.  Half-way 
down  the  lane,  by  the  side  of  which  stands 
his  cottage,  his  children  run  to  meet  him  :  one 
he  carries,  and  one  he  leads.  The  companion 
of  his  humble  life  is  ready  to  furnish  him  with 
his  plain  repast.  See,  his  toil-worn  counte- 
nance assumes  an  air  of  cheerfulness — his 
hardships  are  forgotten — fatigue  vanishes — 
he  eats,  and  is  satisfied — the  evening  fair,  he 
walks  with  uncovered  head  around  his  gar- 
den— enters  again,  and  retires  to  rest :  and 
"the  rest  of  a  labouring  man  is  sweet,  whe- 
ther he  eat  little  or  much."  Inhabitant  of 
this  lonely,  lowly  dwelling,  who  can  be  in- 
different to  thy  comfort ! — "  Peace  be  to  this 
house" — 

"Let  not  ambition  mock  thy  useful  toil, 
11  Thy  homely  joys,  and  destiny  obscure ; 

"  Nor  grandeur  hear,  with  a  disdainful  smile, 
"  The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor." 

Secondly,  We  may  consider  this  happiness 
in  reference  to  the  afflictions  of  life.  It 
looks  like  a  general  remedy,  furnished  by  the 
kindness ofProvidence,to  alleviate  the  troubles 
which  from  various  quarters  we  unavoidably 
feel  while  passing  through  this  world  of  va- 
nity and  vexation  of  spirit.  How  many  little 
sighing  vacancies  does  it  fill  up !  How  many 
cloudy  nervous  vapours  does  it  chase  from  the 
mind  !  Whose  frowns  and  gloom  will  not  the 
mirth  of  a  child  dissipate?  What  corroding 
anxieties  will  not  retire  from  the  attentions  of 
a  virtuous  wife !  What  a  consolation  is  her 
gentleness !  Who  has  not  experienced  its  heal- 
ing, enlivening  influence,  in  the  day  of  sick- 
ness and  in  the  hour  of  depression  !  Is  your 
confidence  frequently  checked  by  the  baseness 
and  dissimulation  of  mankind?  Here  your 
candour  recovers,  and  you  are  reconciled  to 
your  fellow-creatures  again.  Does  the  be- 
haviour of  too  many  with  whom  you  have  to 
do,  cherish  a  dissatisfaction  which  sours  life? 
Here  a  serenity,  a  sweetness,  spreads  over  the 
mind,  from  the  simplicity,  openness,  •  and 
kindness,  with  which  you  are  surrounded. 
Are  you  repulsed  by  others  ?  Here  you  are 
received  with  open  and  welcome  arms.  Does 
the  storm  rage  without  ?  Behold  an  asylum 


SERMON  XIX. 


107 


within — Here  we  realize  an  emblem  of  the  Sa- 
viour: it  says  to  us,  "In  the  world  ye  shall 
have  tribulation,  but  in  me  ye  shall  have 
peace."  Here  "  the  wicked  cease  from  trou- 
bling," and  here  "  the  weary  are  at  rest." 

Thirdly.  We  may  consider  this  happiness 
in  reference  to  the  good  things  of  this 
life.  Without  this,  all  will  be  insipid,  all 
will  be  useless.  Your  titles  of  distinction, 
and  your  robes  of  office,  are  laid  aside  before 
you  enter  your  own  dwelling.  There  the  se- 
nator, the  minister,  the  lawyer,  draw  back ; 
and  we  behold  only  the  husband,  the  father, 
the  man !  There  you  stand  only  in  those  rela- 
tions in  which  nature  has  placed  you.  There 
you  feel  only  your  personal  character.  What 
remains  after  these  deductions  are  made,  as- 
certains your  value.  You  are  to  judge  of  your 
worth  by  the  honour  you  command  where  rank 
does  not  overawe — of  your  importance,  by  the 
esteem  and  admiration  you  engage  when  de- 
prived of  all  adventitious  appendages — of  your 
happiness,  by  the  resources  you  possess  to 
give  cheerfulness  and  charms  to  those  return- 
ing hours  which  no  splendour  gilds,  which  no 
fame  inspires,  and  in  which  all  the  attractions 
of  popularity  fail.  For  what  would  it  avail 
you  to  live  in  popular  opinion,  and  to  be  fol- 
lowed with  applause  home  to  your  very  door 
— if  you  were  then  to  be  compelled  to  con- 
tinue in  the  element  of  discord,  the  seat  of 
strife,  the  house  of  bondage  and  correction  1 
Imagine  yourselves  prosperous  in  your  affairs ; 
trade  pouring  in  wealth,  your  grounds  bring- 
ing forth  plentifully,  your  cup  running  over 
— Misery  under  your  own  roof  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  canker  your  gold  and  silver ;  to  cor- 
rupt your  abundance  ;  to  embitter  every  plea- 
sure ;  to  majie  you  groan,  even  on  a  costly 
sofa,  "  All  this  availeth  me  nothing  !" — 

Sufferings  from  strangers  are  less  acute 
than  from  friends.  David  magnifies  the  af- 
fliction he  endured  by  the  nearness  of  the 
quarter  from  which  it  came — "  It  was  not  an 
enemy  that  reproached  me ;  then  I  could  have 
borne  it :  neither  was  it  he  that  hated  me, 
that  did  magnify  himself  against  me ;  then  I 
would  have  hid  myself  from  him.  But  it  was 
thou — mine  equal,  my  guide,  and  my  ac- 
quaintance." This  circumstance  gave  it  all 
the  shock  of  surprise,  all  the  bitterness  of  dis- 
appointment, all  the  breach  of  obligation.  It 
is  bad  to  be  wounded  any-where ;  but  to  be 
"  wounded  in  the  house  of  a  friend"  is  men- 
tioned as  a  peculiar  aggravation.  No  foes 
are  like  those  of  "  a  man's  household."  Their 
situation  favours  hostility :  they  can  choose 
the  moment  of  attack ;  they  can  repeat  the 
blow  ;  they  can  injure  imperceptibly.  And 
what  can  be  so  dreadful  as  to  be  associated 
with  persons  from  whom  you  cannot  separate, 
and  with  whom  you  cannot  live  1  What  are 
occasional  smiles,  against  habitual  frowns  1 
What  is  friendship  abroad,  against  enmity  at 
home  ?  What  is  it  for  a  man  to  be  comfortable 


where  he  visits,  and  to  be  tormented  where  he 
dwells  ?  If  our  happiness  flow  from  others — 
and  that  it  does  in  no  small  degree  is  unques- 
tionable— it  will  necessarily  follow,  that  it 
must  be  most  affected  by  those  to  whom  we 
are  most  seriously  related,  and  with  whom  we 
most  intimately  blend — not  those  whom  we 
accidentally  meet,  but  those  with  whom  we 
daily  reside — not  those  who  touch  one  part  of 
our  character  only,  but  those  who  press  us  on 
every  side. 

Fourthly.  Let  us  consider  it  in  reference 
to  THE  seductions  and  snares  of  the 
world.  From  the  danger  of  these,  there  is 
no  better  preservative  than  the  attractions  of 
a  family.  The  more  a  man  feels  his  welfare 
lodged  in  his  own  house,  the  more  will  he 
prize  and  love  it.  The  more  he  is  attached 
to  his  wife  and  children,  the  less  will  he  risk 
their  peace  and  comfort  by  hazardous  specu- 
lations, and  mad  enterprises  in  trade.  A  life 
of  innocency,  regularity,  and  repose,  in  the  af- 
fections of  his  family,  will  check  the  rovings 
of  restless  ambition,  and  secure  him  from  the 
follies  of  the  pride  of  life.  "  Evil  communica- 
tions corrupt  good  manners."  But  these  pleas- 
ing cords  will  draw  him  back  from  "  the  coun- 
sel of  the  ungodly,"  "  the  way  of  sinners," 
"  the  seat  of  the  scornful."  In  vain  will  he  be 
tempted  to  go  abroad  for  company  or  for  plea- 
sure, when  home  supplies  him  with  both. 
"And  what,"  says  he,  "are  the  amusements 
and  dissipations  of  the  world  !  I  have  better 
enjoyments  already — enjoyments  springing 
fresh  from  the  growth,  the  improvement,  the 
culture  of  our  rising  charge — from  our  rural 
walks — from  our  social  evenings — from  our 
reading  and  conversation — from  our  cheerful, 
lively,  mutual  devotion.  Here  are  pleasures 
perpetually  renewing,  and  which  never  cloy. 
Here  are  entertainments  placed  easily  with- 
in our  reach,  and  which  require  no  laborious 
preparation,  no  costly  arrangement.  Here  I 
acknowledge  only  the  dominion  of  nature  ; 
and  follow  only  the  bias  of  inclination.  Here 
I  have  no  weaknesses  to  hide,  no  mistakes  to 
dread.  Here  my  gratifications  are  attended 
with  no  disgrace,  no  remorse.  They  leave 
no  stain,  no  sting  behind.  I  fear  no  reproach 
from  my  understanding,  no  reckoning  from  my 
conscience — my  prayers  are  not  hindered. 
My  heart  is  made  better — I  am  softened — 
prepared  for  duty — allured  to  the  Throne  of 
Grace.  And  can  I  be  induced  to  exchange 
all  this,  O  ye  votaries  of  the  world,  for  your 
anxieties,  confusion,  agitations, and  expense? 
Shall  I  part  with  my  ease  and  independence, 
for  the  trammels  of  your  silly  forms,  the  en- 
cumbrance of  your  fashions,  the  hypocrisies  of 
your  crowds  ?  Shall  I  resign  my  freedom  for 
the  privilege  of  your  slavery,  which  so  often 
compels  you  to  disguise  your  sentiments,  to 
subdue  your  genuine  feelings,  to  applaud  fol- 
ly, to  yawn  under  a  lethargy  of  pleasure,  and 
to  sigh  for  the  hour  of  retirement  and  release  1 


108 


SERMON  XIX. 


Shall  1  sacrifice  my  innocent  endearments,  to 
pursue  the  fatal  routine  of  your  dissipation — 
the  end  of  which  is  heaviness — and  from 
which  you  return,  deprived  of  seasonable  rest, 
robbed  of  peace  of  mind,  galled  by  reflection, 
disinclined  to  prayer,  feeling  the  presence  of 
God  irksome,  and  the  approach  of  death  intole- 
rable 1— 

"  Domestic  Happiness,  thou  only  bliss 

"Of  Paradise  that  has  escap'd  the  Fall! 

"  Thou  art  not  known  where  Pleasure  is  ador'd, — 

"  That  reeling  goddess  with  a  zoneless  waist : 

"  Forsaking  thee,  what  shipwreck  have  we  made 

"  Of  honour,  dignity,  and  fair  renown  I" 

— Who  can  help  lamenting  to  see  the  valu- 
able enjoyments  of  home  sacrificed  to  a  fond- 
ness for  amusements,  and  a  rage  for  indiscri- 
minate intercourse  with  a  false  unfeeling 
world !  But  so  it  is.  People  were  never  more 
social,  and  never  less  domestic,  than  they  now 
are. — The  phrensy  has  reached  all  ranks  and 
degrees.  Our  females  are  no  longer  keepers 
at  home.  Even  children  are  led  into  these 
circles  of  infatuation,  and  made  to  despise  the 
simple  and  natural  manners  of  youth.  From 
mansions  and  shops  and  common  dwellings 
we  see  increasing  numbers  pouring  forth  to 
balls,  and  assemblies,  and  routs,  and  concerts, 
and  public  spectacles,  and  theatrical  enter- 
tainments :  every  evening  has  some  foreign 
claim. 

"  Who  will  shew  me  any  good  V — is  the 
cry.  The  world  passing  along  hears  it,  and 
says,  Follow  me — emulate  this  splendour — 
mix  with  this  throng — pursue  these  diver- 
sions. We  comply.  We  run,  and  we  run 
in  vain — the  prize  was  nigh  us  when  we  be- 
gan ;  but  our  folly  drew  us  away  from  it.  Let 
us  return  home,  and  we  shall  find  it.  Let  us 
remember,  that  happiness  prefers  calmness  to 
noise,  and  the  shades  to  publicity  ;  that  it  de- 
pends more  upon  things  cheap  and  common, 
than  upon  things  expensive  and  singular :  that 
it  is  not  an  exotic  which  we  are  to  import 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth,  but  a  plant  which 
grows  in  our  own  field,  and  in  our  own  gar- 
den. Every  man  may  be  made  happy,  if  you 
could  induce  him  to  make  a  proper  estimate  of 
happiness;  if  you  could  keep  him  from  judg- 
ing after  outward  appearances ;  if  you  could 
persuade  him  to  stoop,  rather  than  to  aspire ; 
to  kneel,  rather  than  to  fly.  To  confine  us  to 
our  respective  stations,  God  has  wisely  render- 
ed happiness  only  attainable  in  them :  were  it 
placed — not  in  the  way  of  duty,  but  on  the 
other  side  of  the  boundary — the  very  position 
would  lead  us  astray,  arid  seduce  us  to  trans- 
gress.— But  home  is  not  always  heaven,  nor  is 
domestic  life  necessarily  productive  of  domes- 
tic happiness.    Hence  it  becomes  needful, 

Part  II.  To  open  its  sources,  and  exa- 
mine on  what  it  depends. 

It  does  not  depend  upon  rank  and  afflu- 
ence. It  is  confined  to  no  particular  condi- 
tion :  the  servant  may  enjoy  it,  as  well  as  the 
master ;  the  mechanic,  as  well  as  the  noble- 


man. It  exhilarates  the  cottage,  as  well  as 
the  palace.  What  am  I  saying  ]  What  says 
common  opinion  1  Does  it  not  invariably  as- 
sociate more  enjoyment  with  the  lowly  roof, 
than  with  the  towering  mansion  1  Ask  those 
who  have  risen  from  inferior  life,  whether 
their  satisfaction  has  increased  with  their  cir- 
cumstances; whether  they  have  never  ad- 
vanced to  the  brow  of  the  eminence  they  have 
ascended,  and  looking  down  sighed,  "  Ah  ! 
happy  vale,  from  how  much  was  I  sheltered 
while  I  was  in  thee !"  There  can  be  indeed 
but  one  opinion  concerning  the  wretchedness 
of  those  who  have  not  the  necessaries  of  life. 
But  "  Nature  is  content  with  little,  and  Grace 
with  less."  "  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs 
where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox  and  hatred 
therewith."  "  Better  is  a  dry  morsel,  and 
quietness  therewith,  than  a  house  full  of  sa- 
crifices and  strife."  This  blessedness  then  re- 
sults not  from  worldly  things — and  we  men- 
tion this  the  more  readily,  because  some  seem 
afraid  to  enter  a  state  honourable  in  all,  be- 
cause they  have  before  them  no  openings  of 
wealth — others  dread  the  increase  of  children, 
as  an  accession  of  misery — while  many  are 
waiting  for  a  larger  fortune,  a  more  spacious 
house,  and  more  splendid  furniture,  before  they 
can  even  think  of  enjoying  themselves. 

We  may  also  observe,  that  some  individu- 
als seem  much  more  qualified  to  enjoy  this 
happiness  than  others.  Some  have  little  taste 
for  any  thing.  They  are  made  up  of  stupidi- 
ties :  they  have  eyes,  but  see  not ;  ears,  but 
hear  not.  They  are  the  automatons  of  na- 
ture ;  the  machines  of  Providence ;  doing  the 
work  which  the  constitution  of  the  world  re- 
quires of  them,  devoid  of  any  lively  emotions. 
If  they  ever  feel,  it  is  only  from  the  impression 
of  something  tumultuous  and  violent — if  the 
are  ever  pleased,  it  is  only  with  factitious  joys. 
But  others  are  full  of  life  and  sensibility 
They  are  susceptible  of  delicate  impressions : 
they  love  every  thing  tranquil ;  relish  every 
thing  simple ;  enjoy  every  thing  natural ;  and 
are  touched  and  dissolved  by  a  thousand  pleas- 
ing circumstances  which  convey  nothing  to 
others. 

There  are,  however,  some  things  which 
have  an  indispensable  influence  in  producing 
and  maintaining  the  welfare  of  families,  which 
fall  more  properly  under  our  cultivation. 
Order — Good  Temper — Good  Sense — Reli- 
gious Principles.  These  will  bless,  thy 
dwelling,  and  fill  thy  "tabernacle  with  the 
voice  of  rejoicing." 

First.  Without  order  you  can  never  rule 
well  your  own  house.  "  God  is  not  the  God 
of  confusion."  He  loves  order:  order  per- 
vades all  his  works.  He  overlooks  nothing. 
"  He  calleth  the  stars  by  their  names ;"  "  He 
numbereth  the  hairs  of  our  head."  "  He  ap- 
pointed the  moon  for  seasons ;  and  the  sun 
knoweth  his  going  down."  There  is  no  dis- 
cord, no  clashing,  in  all  the  immense,  the 


SERMON  XIX. 


109 


amazing  whole !  He  has  interposed  his  au- 
thority, and  enjoined  us  "to  do  every  thing 
decently,  and  in  order."  And  this  command 
is  founded  in  a  regard  to  our  advantage.  It 
calls  upon  you  to  lay  down  rules,  and  to  walk 
by  them ;  to  assign  every  thing  its  proper 
place — its  allowance  of  time — its  degree  of 
importance ;  to  observe  regularity  in  your 
meals — in  your  devotions — in  your  expenses. 
From  order  spring  frugality,  economy, 
charity.  From  order  result  beauty,  harmony, 
concurrence.  Without  order  there  can  be 
no  government,  no  happiness.  Peace  flies 
from  confusion.  Disorder  entangles  all  our 
affairs ;  hides  from  us  the  end,  and  keeps  from 
us  the  clew — we  lose  self-possession ;  and 
become  miserable — because  perplexed,  hur- 
ried, oppressed,  easily  provoked. 

Secondly.  Many  things  will  arise  to  try 
your  temper  :  and  he  is  unqualified  for  social 
life  who  has  no  rule  over  his  own  spirit ; 
"who  cannot  bear,"  to  use  the  words  of  a 
good  writer,  "  the  frailties  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures with  common  charity,  and  the  vexations 
of  life  with  common  patience."  Peter,  ad- 
dressing wives,  reminds  them  that  "  the  orna- 
ment of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  is  in  the  sight 
of  God  of  great  price."  And  Solomon  often 
mentions  the  opposite  blemish  in  illustrating 
the  female  character.  "  It  is  better  to  dwell 
in  a  corner  of  the  house-top,  than  with  a 
brawling  woman  in  a  wide  house."  "  The 
contentions  of  a  wife  are  a  continual  dropping" 
— and  so  on.  We  should  deem  it  invidious 
to  exemplify  this  imperfection  in  one  sex  only 
— we  would  address  you  equally ;  and  call 
upon  you,  as  you  value  a  peaceful  abode,  to 
maintain  a  control  over  your  tempers.  Be- 
ware of  passion :  say  little  when  under  irrita- 
tion ;  turn  aside — take  time  to  reflect  and  to 
cool — a  word  spoken  unadvisedly  with  your 
lips  may  produce  a  wound  which  weeks  can- 
not heal.  "  I  would  reprove  thee,"  said  the 
philosopher,  "were  I  not  angry" — It  is  a 
noble  suggestion.  Apply  it  in  your  repre- 
hension of  servants  and  correction  of  children. 
But  there  is  something  against  which  you 
should  be  more  upon  your  guard  than  occa- 
sional sallies  of  passion — I  mean  habitual  pet- 
tishness.  The  former  may  be  compared  to  a 
brisk  shower  which  is  soon  over;  the  latter, 
to  a  sleet  drizzling  rain  driving  all  the  day 
long.  The  mischief  which  is  such  a  disturb- 
er of  social  enjoyment,  is  not  the  anger  which 
is  lengthened  into  malice,  or  vented  in  re- 
venge ;  but  that  which  oozes  out  in  constant 
fretfulness,  murmuring,  and  complaint :  it  is 
that  which  renders  a  man  not  formidable,  but 
troublesome ;  it  is  that  which  converts  him, 
not  into  a  tiger,  but  into  a  gnat.  Good  hu- 
mour is  the  cordial,  the  balm  of  life.  The 
possessor  of  it  spreads  satisfaction  wherever 
he  comes,  and  he  partakes  of  the  pleasure  he 
gives.  Easy  in  himself,  he  is  seldom  offend- 
ed with  those  around  him.  Calm  and  placid 
10 


within,  every  thing  without  wears  the  most 
favourable  appearance  ;  while  the  mind,  agi- 
tated by  peevishness  or  passion,  like  a  ruffled 
pool,  even  reflects  every  agreeable  and  lovely 
image  false  and  distorted. 

Thirdly.  The  influence  and  advantage  of 
good  sense  are  incalculable.  What  streams, 
what  vessels,  are  the  noisy  !  The  shallow, 
the  empty.  Who  are  the  unyielding !  The 
ignorant,  who  mistake  obstinacy  for  firmness. 
Who  are  the  infallible]  They  who  have  not 
reflection  enough  to  see  how  liable  and  how 
likely  we  are  to  err ;  they  who  cannot  com- 
prehend how  much  it  adds  to  a  man's  wisdom 
to  discover,  and  to  his  humility  to  acknow- 
ledge, a  fault.  Good  sense  will  preserve  us 
from  censoriousness ;  will  lead  us  to  distin- 
guish circumstances ;  to  draw  things  from  the 
dark  situation  of  prejudice  which  rendered 
them  frightful,  that  we  may  candidly  survey 
them  in  open  day.  Good  sense  will  keep  us 
from  looking  after  visionary  perfection — 
The  infirmities  I  behold  are  not  peculiar  to 
my  connexions ;  others,  if  equally  near,  would 
betray  the  same :  universal  excellence  is  un- 
attainable ;  no  one  can  please  in  every  thing. 
And  who  am  I,  to  demand  a  freedom  from 
imperfections  in  others,  while  I  am  encom- 
passed with  infirmities  myself!"  Good  sense 
will  lead  us  to  study  dispositions,  peculiarities, 
accommodations :  to  weigh  consequences ;  to 
determine  what  to  observe  and  what  to  pass 
by;  when  to  be  immoveable  and  when  to 
yield.  Good  sense  will  produce  good  man- 
ners; will  keep  us  from  taking  freedoms  and 
handling  things  roughly ;  for  love  is  delicate, 
confidence  is  tender.  Good  sense  will  never 
agitate  claims  of  superiority;  it  will  teach 
us  to  "submit  ourselves  one  to  another,  in  the 
fear  of  God."  Good  sense  will  lead  persons 
to  regard  their  own  duties,  rather  than  to  re- 
commend those  of  others. 

Fourthly.  We  must  go  beyond  all  this,  and 
remind  you  of  those  religious  principles  by 
which  you  are  to  be  governed.  These  are  to 
be  found  in  the  word  of  God ;  and  as  many 
as  walk  according  to  this  rule,  mercy  and 
peace  shall  be  upon  them.  God  has  engaged 
that  if  you  will  walk  in  his  way,  you  shall  find 
rest  unto  your  souls.  If  it  be  said — There  are 
happy  families  without  religion — I  would  an- 
swer, First,  There  is  a  difference  between  ap- 
pearances and  reality.  Secondly,  If  we  be- 
lieve the  Scripture,  this  is  impossible — "the 
way  of  transgressors  is  hard :  there  is  no  peace, 
saith  my  God,  unto  the  wicked."  Thirdly, 
Religion  secures  those  duties,  upon  the  per- 
formance of  which  the  happiness  of  house- 
holds depends.  Would  any  man  have  reason 
to  complain  of  servants,  of  children,  or  of  any 
other  relation — if  they  were  all  influenced  by 
the  spirit,  and  regulated  by  the  dictates  of  the 
Gospel  1  Much  of  religion  lies  in  the  discharge 
of  these  relative  duties — and  to  enforce  these, 
i  religion  brings  forward  motives  the  most  pow- 


110 


SERMON  XX. 


erful,  and  alwaysbinding — calls  in  conscience, 
and  God,  and  heaven,  and  hell.  Fourthly, 
Religion  attracts  the  Divine  blessing — and  all 
we  possess  or  enjoy  depends  upon  its  smiles. 
God  can  elevate  or  sink  us  in  the  esteem  of 
others :  he  can  send  us  business  or  withhold 
it;  he  can  command  or  forbid  thieves  to  rob, 
and  flames  to  devour  us;  he  can  render  all 
we  have  satisfying-,  or  distasteful — and  they 
that  honour  him  he  will  honour.  "  The 
house  of  the  wicked  shall  be  overthrown,  but 
the  tabernacle  of  the  upright  shall  flourish. 
The  curse  of  the  Lord  is  in  the  house  of  the 
wicked ;  but  he  blesseth  the  habitation  of  the 
just."  Finally,  Religion  prepares  us  for  all 
events.  If  we  succeed — it  keeps  our  prosper- 
ity from  destroying  us.  If  we  suffer — it  pre- 
serves us  from  fainting  in  the  day  of  adversi- 
ty. It  turns  our  losses  into  gains ;  it  exalts 
our  joys  into  praises  ;  it  makes  prayers  of  our 
sighs — and,  in  all  the  uncertainties  of  time 
and  changes  of  the  world,  it  sheds  on  the 
mind  a  "  peace  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing." It  unites  us  to  each  other — not  only 
as  creatures,  but  as  Christians ;  not  only  as 
strangers  and  pilgrims  upon  earth,  but  as  heirs 

of  glory,  honour,  and  immortality  For  you 

must  separate — it  is  useless  to  keep  back  the 
mortifying  truth — It  was  the  condition  upon 
which  your  union  was  formed.  O  man  ! 
it  was  a  mortal  finger  upon  which  you  placed 
the  ring,  vain  emblem  of  perpetuity.  O  wo- 
man! it  was  a  dying  hand  that  imposed  it. 
After  so  many  mutual  and  growing  attach- 
ments, to  separate ! — What  is  to  be  done 
here  1  O  Religion,  Religion,  come,  and  relieve 
us,  in  a  case  where  every  other  assistance  fails. 
Come,  and  teach  us  not  to  wrap  up  our  chief 
happiness  in  the  creature.  Come,  and  bend 
our  wills  to  the  pleasure  of  the  Almighty,  and 
enable  us  to  say,  "  It  is  the  Lord  !  let  him 
do  what  seemeth  him  good :  the  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  and  bless- 
ed be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  Come,  and  tell 
us  that  they  are  disposed  of  infinitely  to  their 
advantage ;  that  the  separation  is  temporary ; 
that  a  time  of  re-union  will  come  ;  that  we 
shall  see  their  faces  and  hear  their  voices 
again. — 

Take  two  Christians,  who  have  been  walk- 
ing together,  like  "  Zechariah  and  Elisabeth, 
in  all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the 
Lord,  blameless."  Is  the  connection  dissolv- 
ed by  death  1  No.  We  take  the  Bible  along 
with  us;  and  inscribe  on  their  tomb,  "  Pleas- 
ant in  life,  and  in  death  not  divided."  Is  the 
one  removed  before  the  other  ?  He  becomes  an 
attraction  to  the  other  ;  he  draws  him  forward, 
and  is  waiting  to  "  receive  him  into  everlast- 
ing habitations." — Let  us  suppose  a  pious  fa- 
mily re-uniting  together,  after  following  each 
other  successively  down  to  the  grave.  How 
unlike  every  present  meeting !  Here  our  in- 
tercourse is  chilled  with  the  certainty  of  sepa- 
ration :  therevve  shall  meet,  to  part  no  more ; 


we  shall  be  for  ever  with  each  other,  and  for 
ever  with  the  Lord.  Now  affliction  often  enters 
our  circle,  and  the  distress  of  one  is  the  con- 
cern of  all :  then  we  shall  "rejoice  with  them 
that  rejoice,"  but  not  "  weep  with  them  that 
weep ;"  for  "  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  from  our 
eyes,  and  the  days  of  our  mourning  shall  be 
ended." 

Come  then,  my  dear  hearers,  and  invite  the 
religion  of  the  blessed  Jesus — this  one  thing 
needful — this  universal  benefactor  of  mankind. 
It  has  "  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is, 
and  of  that  which  is  to  come" — It  secures  our 
individual  and  our  relative  happiness — It 
brings  peace  into  our  bosoms,  and  joy  into  our 
dwellings.  Let  us  resolve  to  pursue  it  our- 
selves ;  let  us  enforce  it  upon  our  connections. 
Let  us  dedicate  our  tabernacles  to  God  ;  offer 
the  morning  and  evening  sacrifice  of  prayer 
and  of  praise :  and  whatever  be  the  determi- 
nation of  others,  let  each  of  us  say,  for  our- 
selves, "  As  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will 
serve  the  Lord." 


SERMON  XX. 


HAPPINESS  IN  DEATH. 

For  so  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered  unto 
you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom 
of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Clwist. — 
2  Peter  I.  11. 

My  Brethren  !  Among  the  various  motives 
with  which  Revelation  abounds,  there  are 
none  more  solemn  and  impressive  than  those 
which  are  derived  from  Death.  Hence  the 
sacred  writers  often  refer  to  it.  They  remind 
us  of  the  suddenness  of  its  arrival.  They 
forewarn  us  of  the  nearness  of  its  approach. 
They  also  intimate  the  importance  of  its  con- 
sequences, as  terminating  this  state  of  trial, 
sealing  up  our  characters,  and  transmitting 
them  to  the  judgment  of  the  great  day,  to  be 
opened  and  published  before  an  assembled 
world. 

The  Apostle  Peter  urges  the  manner  of 
our  dying — He  would  have  us  die  well — not 
only  in  a  state  of  salvation,  but  of  peace — and 
triumph.  "  So  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered 
unto  you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting 
kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ."  To  do  justice  to  this  subject,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  consider  three  things.  I. 
The  state  to  which  the  Christian  looks  for- 
ward— "the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  II.  The  mode 
of  his  admission — "an  entrance  ministered 
abundantly."  III.  The  condition  on  which 
the  privilege  depends — it  is  the  consequence 
of  something  clearly  implied.  "  So — So  an 
entrance  shall  be  ministered  unto  you 
abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom 
of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 


SERMON  XX. 


Ill 


I.  Christians,  We  know  very  little  of  "the 
hope  which  is  laid  up  for  us  in  heaven :"  it  is 
"  the  glory  which  shall  ho  revealed  in  us." 
While  we  are  in  this  weak  state  of  flesh  and 
blood,  the  full  disclosure  would  be  too  dazzling 
for  the  feeble  eye.  It  would  also,  by  making 
too  strong  an  impression,  operate  injuriously, 
unhinging  us  from  our  present  connections, 
and  depriving  those  concerns  which  demand 
a  subordinate  share  of  attention,  of  all  power 
t<j  strike  and  engage  our  minds.  "  We  walk 
by  faith,  not  by  sight" — but  "  we  know  in 
part."  W e  have  some  representations  of  our 
future  blessedness,  accommodated  to  our  fa- 
culties, and  derived  from  scenes  with  which 
we  are  familiar. 

It  is  a  kingdom — a  state  of  royal  empire, 
expanding  over  a  better,  a  heavenly  country 
— where  there  is  no  curse — whose  laws  are 
equity  and  perfection — whose  riches  and  hon- 
ours and  resources  are  infinite — whose  sub- 
jects are  all  wise  and  good — living  together 
as  friends — all  princes  themselves — all  happy 
— escaped  from  the  troubles  of  life,  the  imfirm- 
ities  and  diseases  of  body,  the  distresses  and 
accusations  of  conscience,  the  remains  of  ig- 
norance and  of  sin — and  innumerable  vexa- 
tions, which  now  mnke  us  groan,  and  long  to 
emigrate  thither.  Two  things  are  spoken  of 
this  kingdom,  which  deserve  remark. 

The  first  concerns  its  permanency  and  du 
ration — It  is  "the  everlasting  kingdom  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour."  Every  thing  here  is 
perishable  and  transitory.  We  tremble  to 
look  at  our  possessions  and  enjoyments,  lest 
we  should  see  them  in  motion,  spreading  their 
wings  to  flee  away.  Many  already,  in  talking 
of  their  comforts,  are  compelled  to  go  back — 
"I  had  a  husband — children — health — afflu- 
ence— and  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest." — 
As  it  is  with  individuals  and  families,  so  it 
is  with  communities.  "The  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  away."  Where  now  is  the 
city  whose  top  was  to  reach  to  heaven  and 
defy  a  second  flood !  What  have  become  of 
the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  whose  fame  fills 
the  page  of  history  ?  The  Assyrian,  Persian, 
Grecian,  Roman  empires  arose,  astonished 
mankind  for  a  season,  and  disappeared.  And 
not  only  the  most  magnificent  and  durable 
productions  of  human  power  and  skill,  but 
even  the  established  frame  of  nature,  shall  be 
demolished.  "  The  heavens  shall  piss  away 
with  a  srreat  noise,  and  the  elements  shall 
melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  also,  and 
the  works  that  are  therein,  shall  be  burnt  up. 
Nevertheless,  we,  according  to  his  promise, 
look  for  new  heavens,  and  a  new  earth,  where- 
in dwelleth  righteousness" — Then  follows  a 
kingdom  not  marred  by  sin,  not  liable  to  de- 
clension or  change.  A  kingdom  which  can- 
not be  shaken,  secure  from  internal  decay  and 
external  violence.  A  kingdom,  prepared 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  which 
shall  survive  its  dissolution ;  and,  having  seen 


the  sun  turned  into  darkness  and  the  moon  in- 
to blood,  shall  flow  on  through  eternal  ages. 

The  greater  any  good  is  which  we  possess, 
the  more  docs  it  awaken  our  concern,  and  the 
more  anxious  are  we  to  inquire  after  its  se- 
curity and  tenure.  But  here  is  no  room  for 
apprehension — the  happiness  is  as  certain  as 
it  is  excellent,  as  durable  as  it  is  vast.  And 
the  Scripture  never  overlooks  this  important 
consideration.  Is  it  "meat?"  It  "endureth 
to  everlasting  life."  Is  it  a  "  treasure  1" 
"  Moth  and  rust  cannot  corrupt,  nor  thieves 
break  through  and  steal."  Is  it  a  "  crown  of 
glory  V  It  "  fadeth  not  away."  Is  it  a 
"  house  V  It  is  "  a  building  of  God,  not  made 
with  hands,  eternal,  in  the  heavens."  Is  it  a 
"  city  1"  It  is  "  a  city  which  hath  foundations, 
whose  builder  and  whose  maker  is  God."  Is 
it  a  "kingdom!"  It  is  "everlasting." 

Behold  the  second  circumstance  with  re- 
gard to  this  blessed  state.    It  is  "  the  ever- 
lasting kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ."    And  what  means  this  rela- 
tion 1  It  is  surely  designed  to  distinguish  him 
from  a  mere  possessor,  and  to  intimate  pe- 
culiar prerogative,  residence,  administration. 
It  is  his  by  claim.    As  the  Son  of  God,  he  is 
"  heir  of  all  things :  being  made  so  much 
better  than  the  angels,  as  he  hath  by  inheri- 
tance obtained  a  more  excellent  name  than 
they.    For  unto  which  of  the  angels  said  he, 
at  any  time,  Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day  have 
I  begotten  thee  1   And  again,  I  will  be  to 
him  a  Father,  and  he  shall  be  to  me  a  Son  3 
And  again,  when  he  bringeth  in  the  first-be- 
gotten into  the  world,  he  saith,  And  let  all 
the  angels  of  God  worship  him.    And  of  the 
angels  he  saith,  Who  maketh  his  angels 
spirits,  and  his  ministers  a  flame  of  fire.  But 
unto  the  Son  he  saith,  Thy  throne,  O  God,  is 
for  ever  and  ever  ;  a  sceptre  of  righteousness 
is  the  sceptre  of  thy  kingdom  :  thou  hast  loved 
righteousness,  and  hated  iniquity  ;  therefore 
God,  even  thy  God,  hath  anointed  thee  with 
the  oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows."  For 
under  another  view  he  acquired  it  as  the  re- 
ward of  his  obedience  and  sufferings.    "  For 
unto  the  angels  hath  he  not  put  in  subjection 
the  world  to  come,  of  which  we  speak.  But 
we  see  Jesus,  who  was  made  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels,  for  the  suffering  of  death,  crowned 
with  glory  and  honour."    "  Who,  being  in 
the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be 
equal  with  God ;  but  made  himself  of  no  re- 
putation, and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ; 
and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  hum- 
bled himself,  and  became  obedient  unto  death, 
even  the  death  of  the  cross.    Wherefore  God 
also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him 
a  name  which  is  above  every  name  :  that,  at 
the  name  of  Jesus,  every  knee  should  bow,  of 
things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and 
things  under  the  earth ;  and  that  every  tongue 
should  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord, 


112 


SERMON  XX. 


to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father."  He  has  now 
the  disposal  of  the  offices  and  privileges  of  the 
empire  among  his  faithful  followers.  This 
was  surely  the  idea  of  the  dying  thief,  when 
he  prayed,  "  Lord,  remember  me  when  thou 
comest  into  thy  kingdom;"  and  of  Paul, when 
he  said,  "  and  the  Lord  shall  deliver  me  from 
every  evil  work,  and  preserve  me  unto  his 
heavenly  kingdom."  He  is  the  Sovereign ; 
and  there  he  rules — not,  as  here,  "  in  the 
midst  of  his  enemies" — No  treason,  no  sedi- 
tion, no  disaffection  there.  All  are  adoring  and 
praising  him — "Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that 
was  slain  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and 
wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honour,  and  glory, 
and  blessing."  There  he  reigns  immediately 
— always  in  view — and  accessible  to  all. 
There  he  appears  in  our  nature — the  princi- 
ple, the  image,  the  pledge  of  our  glory  and 
happiness.  He  has  taken  possession  in  our 
name  ;  and  is  preparing  a  place  for  us ;  and 
will  by-and-by  receive  us  to  himself,  that 
where  he  is,  there  we  may  be  also. 

It  has  been  often  said,  "  that  however  we 
may  differ  from  each  other,  we  all  hope  for 
the  same  heaven."  But  nothing  can  be  more 
untrue.  The  believer  in  Jesus,  who  loves 
him  above  all,  and  places  the  whole  of  his 
happiness  in  him — he — and  he  alone  really 
desires  the  heaven  of  the  Bible :  a  pure,  spi- 
ritual, christian  heaven,  the  essence  of  which 
is  the  presence  and  glory  of  the  Redeemer. 
This  is  the  heaven  he  demanded  for  all  his  fol- 
lowers— "  Father,  I  will  that  they  also  whom 
thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me  where  1  am, 
to  behold  my  glory."  This  is  the  heaven 
Paul  desired  for  himself :  "  1  long  to  depart, 
to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better."  And 
such  is  the  disposition  of  every  true  follower 
of  the  Lord  Jesus.  "  This  is  enough — this  is 
the  heaven  of  Heaven — there  I  shall  see  Him 
who  is  altogether  lovely.  There  I  shall  be- 
hold Him  who  gave  his  life  a  ransom  for  me. 
There  I  shall  approach  the  Lamb  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne,  who  will  feed  me  and  lead  me 
to  living  fountains  of  water.  There  I  shall 
be  like  him ;  for  I  shall  see  him  as  he  is. 
There  I  shall  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord." — 
Having  considered  the  state  to  which  we  are 
encouraged  to  look  forward,  let  us  observe, 

II.  The  desirable  mode  of  admission.  And 
here  we  read  of  an  entrance — ministered — 

ABUNDANTLY. 

What  is  this  entrance]  Unquestionably 
— Death.  "  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so  death  hath 
passed  upon  all  men,  because  all  have  sinned." 
With  two  exceptions,  this  has  been  the  way 
of  all  the  earth.  "  Enoch  was  translated,  that 
he  should  not  see  death."  "  Elijah  went  up 
by  a  whirlwind  into  heaven" — They  depart- 
ed, without  the  separation  of  soul  and  body — 
and  knew  nothing  of  "  pains  and  groans  and 
dying  strife."  They  were  not  unclothed, 
but  clothed  upon :  and  in  them,  mortality  was 


swallowed  up  of  life.  But  only  one  passage 
remains  for  us :  and  this — not  an  easy  and  an 
alluring,  but  a  rough  and  a  gloomy  one.  A 
messenger  brings  us  to  God  ;  but  it  is  "  the 
King  of  Terror^ :"  we  enter  the  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey;  but  it  is  through  "the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death." 

But  you  should  remember  that  your  en- 
trance into  the  invisible  world  is  administer- 
ed. "  Are  not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  1 
and  one  of  them  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground 
without  your  Father.  Fear  not  therefore: 
ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows." 
"  The"  very  "  hairs  of  your  head  are  all 
numbered."  "  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints :"  and  he  orders 
all  the  circumstances  attending  it.  Not  only 
is  the  will  of  God  concerned  in  the  general 
sentence  of  mortality  pronounced  upon  us, 
but  death  always  receives  a  particular  com- 
mission from  him.  Hence,  in  a  similar  condi- 
tion, one  is  taken  and  another  left.  The  cir- 
cumstance of  time  is  fixed  by  him  :  "  the  num- 
ber of  our  months  is  with  him."  The  place 
is  determined  by  his  purpose.  The  means 
and  the  manner  of  our  removal  are  disposed 
by  his  pleasure.  Whether  we  are  to  die 
young  or  old ;  whether  we  are  to  be  seized 
at  home  or  abroad ;  whether  we  shall  be  car- 
ried off  by  accidents  or  disease  ;  whether  we 
shall  expire  slowly  or  suddenly — are  secrets 
impenetrable  to  us;  but  all  is  wisely  and 
kindly  regulated  by  his  providence. 

The  death  of  some  is  distinguished  by  in- 
dulgences and  honours  not  vouchsafed  to  all : 
and  this  is  what  the  Apostle  means  by  an  en- 
trance ministered  unto  us  abundantly.  For 
all  do  not  enter  alike.  Some,  shipwrecked, 
are  washed  by  the  surge  half  dead  on  the 
shore,  or  reach  it  clinging  terrified  to  a  plank ; 
others,  with  crowded  sails  and  with  a  pre- 
served cargo  of  spices  and  perfumes,  beauti- 
fully, gallantly  enter  the  desired  haven. 
Some  are  scarcely  saved ;  and  some  are  more 
than  conquerors.  A  triumph  was  not  decreed 
to  every  Roman  general  upon  his  return  to  the 
capital.  Can  we  imagine  that  the  martyrs  is- 
suing from  the  flames,  entered  heaven  like  a 
Christian  who  had  been  often  tempted  to  con- 
ceal his  religion  to  escape  a  sneer  or  a  frown  7 
We  may  observe  a  remarkable  diversity  even 
in  the  deaths  of  common  believers.  Some  die 
only  safe;  while  their  state  is 'unknown  to 
themselves,  and  suspected  by  others.  In 
some,  hope  and  fear  alternately  prevail.  Some 
feel  a  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding 
— while  some  exult  with  a  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.  And  in  these  is  fulfilled 
the  language  of  the  promise,  "  With  gladness 
and  rejoicing  shall  they  be  brought:  they 
shall  enter  into  the  King's  palace."  They 
are  "joyful  in  glory"  before  they  have  reach- 
ed it,  and  "shout  aloud  upon  their"  dying 
"  beds."  God  deals  with  them  as  he  did  with 
Moses,  when  he  led  him  to  the  top  of  Pisgah 


SERMON  XX. 


113 


and  gave  him  a  prospect  of  the  Holy  Land : 
only  with  this  difference — his  view  was  a 
substitute  for  possession ;  while  their  look 
is  to  render  the  passage  easier,  and  to  make 
them  hasten  to  the  goodly  mountain  of  Leba- 
non. Such  a  death  the  Apostle  valued  more 
than  the  continuance  of  life:  all  his  concern 
was  to  "  finish  his  course  with  joy  :"  and  the 
assured  hope  of  this  would  animate  thousands, 
and  reconcile  them  to  all  the  trials  they  en- 
dure. It  is  desirable  and  valuable,  both  with 
regard  to  themselves  and  others. 

They  will  need  it  themselves.  It  is  a  new 
— -a  trying — and — an  awful  thing  to  die. 
They  will  find  dying  to  be  work  enough, 
without  having  doubts  and  fears  to  encounter. 
The  distresses  of  life  admit  of  alleviation  and 
diversion — but  it  is  otherwise  with  the  pains 
of  death.  Worldly  pursuits  are  broken  off, 
sensual  pleasures  are  excluded,  conversation 
is  difficult,  friends  are  anxious  and  fearful; 
and  if  you  have  no  joy  springing  up  in  you 
from  a  spiritual  source,  your  condition  is  de- 
plorable and  desperate.  Would  you  die  in 
darkness,  or  in  the  light  of  God's  counte- 
nance ?  Would  you  enter  another  world,  ig- 
norant whether  you  shall  step  into  endless 
happiness  or  misery  ;  or  depart,  able  to  say, 
as  you  look  back  with  a  smile  upon  survivors, 
"  Whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye 
know?" 

You  should  long  for  this  also  on  the  behalf 
of  others.  This  is  the  last  time  you  can  do  any 
thing  in  serving  God  and  your  generation ; 
but  by  this  you  may  be  rendered  peculiarly 
useful.  Your  dying  looks  and  your  dying 
words  may  make  impressions  which  shall  ne- 
ver be  erased.  Some  who  have  refused  to 
hear  sermons,  have  been  convinced  by  a  dy- 
ing bed.  The  religion  which  can  produce 
such  patience  and  resignation,  courage  and 
joy,  has  become  honourable  in  their  esteem. 
They  have  admired  and  resolved  to  follow  a 
Master,  who  does  not  cast  off  his  servants 
when  their  strength  faileth,  and  who  blesses 
them  with  strong  consolation  when  others  are 
left  without  support :  the  evidence  is  too  plain 
to  be  denied,  too  solemn  to  be  ridiculed. — Such 
a  death  has  also  often  been  profitable  to  those 
who  were  already  in  the  way  to  Zion,  but 
walking  with  trembling'  steps,  and  often  fear- 
ing how  it  would  go  with  them  at  last :  when 
they  have  seen  the  grace  of  God,  they  have 
been  glad,  their  ardour  has  rekindled,  their 
courage  has  been  renewed — they  have  said, 
"  Why  may  it  not  be  so  with  me  1  The  Lord 
is  my  helper;  I  will  not  fear."  When  Doc- 
tor Rivet  was  labouring  under  the  disease 
which  ended  in  his  dissolution,  he  said — "  Let 
all  who  come  to  inquire  after  me,  be  allowed 
to  see  me — I  ought  to  be  an  example  of  reli- 
gion, dying  as  well  as  living;  and  Christ 
shall  be  magnified  in  my  body,  whether  it  be 
by  life  or  by  death." — "  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like 
P  10* 


his." — But  in  order  to  this,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary for  us, 

III.  To  examine  the  condition  upon  which 
this  privilege  is  suspended,  and  which  is  obvi- 
ously here  implied — "For  so  an  entrance 
shall  be  ministered  unto  you  abundantly  into 
the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour Jesus  Christ."  There  are  two  things 
which  it  will  be  proper  for  us  briefly  to  pre- 
mise. First,  There  are  cases  in  which  Chris- 
tians may  be  affected  all  through  life  by  bo- 
dily causes,  having  something  morbid  and  at- 
rabilarious  in  their  constitution,  which  sub- 
jects them  to  various  changes  and  depressions 
with  which  religion  has  no  concern — There 
is  no  reasoning  from  these  instances.  Se- 
condly, It  is  not  for  us  to  determine  what  God 
may  do  in  particular  cases:  for  he  does  not 
always  deal  with  his  people  according  to  their 
desert:  he  is  slow  to  anger,  and  ready  to  for- 
give— Nevertheless  he  has  given  us  a  rule 
by  which  we  are  to  walk  ;  and  has  wisely  es- 
tablished a  connection  between  duty  and  pri- 
vilege. And  I  am  persuaded  that  there  is 
not  an  individual  in  this  assembly,  who  would 
not  rationally  and  Scripturally  expect  to  find 
one  course  of  life  attended  with  a  more  fa- 
voured and  happy  death  than  another:  nor 
can  there  be  much  dispute  in  determining  the 
nature  of  this  course  ;  this  being  one  of  those 
cases  in  which  men  are  very  nearly  agreed. 
It  would  be  well  if  their  knowledge  and  their 
practice  equally  harmonized  ;  but,  alas !  what 
ignorance  and  infidelity  cannot  make  us  deny, 
sin  and  the  world  can  make  us  neglect!  This 
course  requires — That  you  should  habituate 
yourselves  to  familiar  thoughts  of  Death.— 
This  will  dissipate  the  terrors  which  arise 
from  distance  and  imagination;  this  will 
break  the  force  of  surprise ;  this  will  turn  a 
frightful  precipice  into  a  gentle  slope.  He 
who  can  say,  "  I  die  daily,"  is  the  most  like- 
ly to  die  comfortably.  It  requires — that  you 
should  loosen  your  affections  from  the  world 
— A  gentle  breeze,  a  slight  effort  will  bring 
down  the  tree  around  which  you  have  dug, 
and  whose  larger  roots  you  have  cut  oft*.  And 
the  less  powerfully  you  are  attached  to  earth- 
ly things,  the  more  easy  will  be  your  separa- 
tion from  them.  This  is  the  man  to  die, 
whose  mind  advances  with  his  time;  who 
feels  himself  a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  upon 
earth ;  whose  treasure  is  in  heaven ;  and  who 
views  dying  as  only  going  home.  It  requires 
— That  you  should  obtain  and  preserve  the 
evidences  of  pardon — without  these  you  can- 
not be  fearless  and  tranquil  in  the  near  views 
of  eternity — since  "after  death  is  the  judg- 
ment." It  requires  you  to  keep  a  conscience 
void  of  offence  towards  God  and  towards  man. 
Is  he  in  a  condition  to  die,  who  has  lived  in 
the  practice  of  some  known  sin,  and  in  the 
omission  of  some  known  duty  7  Is  he  in  a  con- 
dition to  die,  who  has  worn  a  mask  of  hypo- 
crisy, which  will  now  drop  off,  and  expose 


114 


SERMON  XX. 


him  in  his  true  character?  Is  he  in  a  condi- 
tion to  die,  who  by  artifice,  unfair  dealing, 
grinding  the  faces  of  the  poor,  has  amassed 
gain,  which  will  dishonour  him  if  restored, 
and  condemn  him  if  retained  ?  It  requires — 
us  to  live  in  the  exercise  of  brotherly  kindness 
and  charity.  Of  all  we  do  for  Him,  nothing 
pleases  him  more  than  this :  this  we  know  he 
will  acknowledge  in  the  day  of  judgment — 
and  why  not  in  the  day  of  death  1  "  Blessed 
is  he  that  considereth  the  poor :  the  Lord  will 
deliver  him  in  time  of  trouble."  "The  Lord 
will  strengthen  him  upon  the  bed  of  languish- 
ing: thou  wilt  make  all  his  bed  in  his  sickness." 
Many  are  praying  for  him — the  widows  and  the 
fatherless  cry,  and  their  cry  entereth  "  the 
ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth."  It  requires — 
an  attention  to  religion  in  your  families.  I 
pity  that  father,  who  will  be  surrounded 
when  he  dies  with  children,  whose  minds  he 
never  informed,  whose  dispositions  he  never 
curbed,  whose  manners  he  never  guarded ; 
who  sees  one  an  infidel,  another  a  profligate, 
and  all  irreligious.  I  know  that  you  are  not 
answerable  for  the  conversion  of  your  offspring, 
but  you  are  responsible  for  the  use  of  all  pro- 
per means;  and  if  these  have  been  neglected, 
you  will  plant  your  dying  pillow  with  thorns : 
whereas,  if  you  have  seriously  and  persever- 
ingly  attended  to  them,  your  dying  repose 
shall  not  be  disturbed  by  want  of  success;  but 
you  shall  be  able  to  say,  "  Although  my  house 
be  not  so  with  God,  yet  hath  he  made  with 
me  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered  in  all 
things  and  sure ;  for  this  is  all  my  salvation 
and  all  my  desire ;  although  he  make  it  not 
to  grow." 

In  a  word,  it  requires  you  to  live  in  the 
strenuous  cultivation  of  practical  and  progress- 
ive religion.  "  And  besides  this,  giving  all 
diligence,  add  to  your  faith  virtue  ;  and  to  vir- 
tue, knowledge ;  and  to  knowledge,  temper- 
ance ;  and  to  temperance,  patience ;  and  to 
patience,  godliness ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly 
kindness ;  and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity. 
For  if  these  things  be  in  you,  and  abound,  th  y 
make  you  that  ye  shall  neither  be  barren  nor  un- 
fruitful in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  But  he  that  lacketh  these  things  is  blind, 
and  cannot  see  far  off,  and  hath  forgotten  that  he 
was  purged  from  his  old  sins.  Wherefore  the 
rather,  brethren,  give  diligence  to  make  your 
calling  and  election  sure  ;  for  if  ye  do  these 
things,  ye  shall  never  fall; — for  so,  an  en- 
trance shall  be  ministered  unto  you  abun- 
dantly into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

My  brethren ;  If  there  be  such  differences 
among  Christians  in  dying,  we  may  be  as- 
sured that  there  will  be  inequalities  in  heaven. 
If  there  be  such  diversities  in  the  order  of 
their  admission,  who  can  suppose  they  will 
all  be  upon  a  level  as  soon  as  they  have  en- 


tered 1  There  are  various  ranks  and  degrees 
among  our  fellow-servants  and  elder  bre- 
thren— thrones  and  dominions,  principalities 
and  powers.  The  works  of  God  on  earth  and 
in  the  visible  heavens  are  distinguished  by  a 
pleasing  variety :  "  All  flesh  is  not  the  same 
flesh :  but  there  is  one  kind  of  flesh  of  men, 
another  flesh  of  beasts,  another  of  fishes,  and 
another  of  birds.  There  are  also  celestial  bo- 
dies, and  bodies  terrestrial :  but  the  glory  of 
the  celestial  is  one,  and  the  glory  of  the  terres- 
trial is  another.  There  is  one  glory  of  the  sun, 
and  another  glory  of  the  moon,  and  another 
glory  of  the  stars:  for  one  star  differed)  from 
another  star  in  glory.  So  also  is  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead."  Let  us  therefore  "look 
to  ourselves,  that  we  receive  a  full  reward." 

It  is  impossible  to  close,  without  asking 
you,  in  the  presence  of  God — What  prepara- 
tion have  you  made  for  a  dying  hour"!  Surely 
you  do  not  expect  to  live  here  always  ;  you 
know  that  you  must  die;  and  if  ever  you 
think  of  it,  you  cannot  help  wishing  to  die  in 
peace.  But  can  you  hope  to  conclude  in  com- 
fort a  life  passed  in  guilt'!  "  Be  not  deceived: 
God  is  not  mocked :  for  whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  For  he  that 
soweth  to  his  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap 
corruption  ;  but  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit, 
shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  You 
are  not  in  a  state  to  die  even  safely.  You 
have  only  heard  what  you  are  to  lose.  To 
you  no  entrance  will  be  administered. 

But  I  address  myself  to  Christians ;  and 
call  upon  you  to  think  much  of  a  dying  hour. 
The  care  of  dying  well,  will  influence  you  to 
live  so.  Value  things  according  tothe  views 
you  will  have  of  them  when  you  look  back 
from  the  borders  of  the  grave.  You  see,  the 
blessedness  we  speak  of  does  not  depend  upon 
genius,  learning,  earthly  riches,  worldly  dis- 
tinctions. But  some  things  have  a  favourable 
influence  over  a  dying  hour:  value,  select, 
pursue  these.  By  such  a  death,  regulate  your 
plans  of  living.  Be  piously  ambitious :  seek 
after  spiritual  prosperity  :  be  rich  in  faith  :  be 
filled  with  the  fruits  of  righteousness:  give 
all  diligence  to  the  full  assurance  of  hope  unto 
the  end. — Happy  is  the  man  who  is  no  longer 
"  in  bondage  through  fear  of  death ;"  who  can 
think  with  composure  of  "  the  house  appoint- 
ed for  all  living ;"  who  can  spend  an  hour 
among  the  tombs,  and  say,  "  Well,  hither  I 
have  no  reluctance  to  come  when  my  heaven- 
ly Father  sends  the  summons.  I  know  in 
whom  I  have  believed  ;  and  am  persuaded  that 
He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  com- 
mitted to  him  against  that  day." — "  O  Death  ! 
where  is  thy  sting !  O  Grave !  where  is  thy 
victory  1  The  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the 
strength  of  sin  is  the  law ;  but  thanks  be  to 
God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 


SERMON  XXi. 


115 


SERMON  XXI. 


SERVICE  DONE  FOR  GOD  RE- 
WARDED. 

And  it  came  to  pass  in  the  seven  and  twentieth 
year,  in  the  first  month,  in  the  first  day  of  the 
month,  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  say- 
ing; Son  of  man,  Nebuchadrezzar  king  of  Ba- 
bylon caused  his  army  to  serve  a  great  service 
against  Tyrus :  every  head  was  made  bald, 
and  every  shoulder  was  peeled  :  yet  had  he 
no  wages,  nor  his  army,  for  Tyrus,  for  the 
service  that  he  had  served  against  it :  there- 
fore thus  saith  the  Lord  God ;  Behold,  I 
will  give  the  land  of  Egypt  unto  Nebuchad- 
rezzar king  of  Babylon;  and  he  shall  take 
her  multitude,  and  take  her  spoil,  and  take 
her  prey  ;  and  it  shall  be  the  wages  for  his 
army.  I  have  given  him  the  land  of  Egypt 
for  his  labour  wherewith  he  served  against  it, 
because  they  wrought  for  me,  saith  the  Lord 
God.— Ezekiel  xxix.  17—20. 

"  Surely  the  Lord  will  do  nothing,  but  he 
revealeth  his  secret  unto  his  servants  the  pro- 
phets." When  he  would  bring  in  the  flood 
upon  the  ungodly  world,  he  divulged  his  pur- 
pose to  Noah.  From  Abraham  he  would  not 
hide  the  thing  he  was  about  to  do,  in  the  de- 
struction of  the  cities  of  the  plain.  When  by 
his  judgments  he  resolved  to  punish  the  house 
of  Eli,  he  lodged  the  heavy  tidings  with  Sa- 
muel— To  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  and  Ezekiel,  he 
announced  the  revolutions  and  doom  of  the 
surrounding  nations. 

Now  this  was  done — first,  for  the  honour 
of  these  distinguished  servants  of  God,  by 
shewing  the  confidential  friendship  with 
which  he  favoured  them — and  secondly,  for 
the  conviction  and  confirmation  of  others.  The 
truth  of  these  predictions  would  increasingly 
appear  in  their  successive  accomplishments. 
The  inference  was  obvious  and  undeniable. 
— Who  could  draw  back  the  veil  which  con- 
ceals futurity]  Who  could  pierce  through 
the  obscurity  of  ages  and  generations,  and 
foretell  things  to  come  1  He,  and  He  alone, 
"  who  declareth  the  end  from  the  beginning, 
and  from  ancient  times  the  things  that  are  not 
yet  done;  saying,  My  counsel  shall  stand,  and 
I  will  do  all  my  pleasure." 

The  burden  of  the  prophecy  which  is  to 
engage  your  present  thoughts,  is  the  donation 
of  Egypt  to  the  king  of  Babylon  for  his  trou- 
ble in  taking  Tyre. 

Tyre  was  a  place  famous  for  navigation, 
merchandise,  and  riches.  Our  prophet  calls 
it  "the  mart  of  nations,"  and  enumerates  the 
various  countries  in  whose  commerce  it  trad- 
ed. But  trade  is  perpetually  changing  its  re- 
sidence. It  passed  from  Tyre  to  Alexandria, 
from  Alexandria  to  Venice,  from  Venice  to 
Antwerp,  from  Antwerp  to  Amsterdam,  from 
Amsterdam  to  London.  And  if  there  be  any 
truth  in  history — an  abundance  of  commerce 


has  generally,  if  not  universally,  proved  the 
ruin  of  the  countries  in  which  it  has  prevail- 
ed. It  pours  in  wealth — wealth  is  favourable 
to  every  species  of  wickedness — and  wicked- 
ness, by  its  natural  tendency,  as  well  as  by 
the  curse  of  God,  brings  in  calamity  and  mise- 
ry.— So  it  was  with  Tyre.  Luxury,  pride, 
insolence,  licentiousness  of  manners,  indiffer- 
ence to  the  distresses  of  others,  presumptuous 
confidence  in  their  resources — all  these 
abounded  among  them,  and  foreboded  the 
evil  day — "Therefore  thus  saith  the  Lord 
God;  Behold,  I  am  against  thee,  O  Tyrus, 
and  will  cause  many  nations  to  come  up 
against  thee,  as  the  sea  causeth  his  waves  to 
come  up.  For,  behold,  I  will  bring  up- 
on Tyrus  Nebuchadrezzar,  king  of  Babylon, 
a  king  of  kings,  from  the  north,  with  horses, 
and  with  chariots,  and  with  horsemen,  and 
companies,  and  much  people.  He  shall  slay 
with  the  sword  thy  daughters  in  the  field : 
and  he  shall  make  a  fort  against  thee,  and 
cast  a  mount  against  thee,  and  lift  up  the 
buckler  against  thee.  And  he  shall  set  en- 
gines of  war  against  thy  walls,  and  with  his 
axes  he  shall  break  down  thy  towers.  And 
I  will  make  thee  like  the  top  of  a  rock:  thou 
shalt  be  a  place  to  spread  nets  upon — I  the 
Lord  have  spoken  it." — 

This  prediction  was  now  accomplished — 
Tyre  had  fallen — but  not  without  immense 
labour  and  loss.  Thirteen  years  Nebuchad- 
rezzar besieged  it  with  a  large  army.  Toil- 
ing for  so  many  seasons,  night  and  day,  sum- 
mer and  winter,  the  soldiers  endured  incredi- 
ble hardships — "  every  head  was  bald — every 
shoulder  was  peeled."  For  the  walls  were 
deemed  impregnable,  and  the  place  being  open 
to  the  sea,  could  easily  receive  fresh  supplies 
of  provision  and  of  men  from  the  various  co- 
lonies which  they  had  in  the  Mediterranean. 
— But  its  fate  was  determined. — At  length  a 
breach  was  made;  and  further  resistance  be- 
came useless — But  numbers  of  the  Tyrians 
escaped  in  their  vessels,  after  taking  their 
most  valuable  articles  on  board,  and  throwing 
the  rest  into  the  sea — so  thatNebuchadrezzar, 
when  he  entered,  instead  of  a  rich  booty,  to 
indemnify  him  for  his  losses,  found  nothing 
but  empty  houses  and  ruins.  This  was  no 
small  mortification  :  Ezekiel  is  therefore  com- 
missioned to  insure  him  the  acquisition  of  a 
country,  where  he  would  find  less  difficulty 
and  more  recompense  ;  a  country  abounding 
in  corn,  in  cattle,  and  all  kinds  of  riches. 
"  And  it  came  to  pass  in  the  seven  and  twen- 
tieth year,  in  the  first  month,  in  the  first  day 
of  the  month,  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  unto 
me,  saying,  Son  of  man,  Nebuchadrezzar  king 
of  Babylon  caused  his  army  to  serve  a  great 
service  against  Tyrus  :  every  head  was  made 
bald,  and  every  shoulder  was  peeled  :  yet  had 
he  no  wages,  nor  his  army,  for  Tyrus,  for  the 
service  that  he  had  served  against  it:  there- 
fore thus  saith  the  Lord  God ;  Behold,  I  will 


116 


SERMON  XXI. 


give  the  land  of  Egypt  unto  Nebuchadrezzar 
king  of  Babylon  ;  and  he  shall  take  her  mul- 
titude, and  take  her  spoil,  and  take  her  prey  ; 
and  it  shall  be  the  wages  for  his  army.  I 
have  given  him  the  land  of  Egypt  for  his  la- 
bour wherewith  he  served  against  it,  because 
they  wrought  for  me,  saith  the  Lord  God." 

These  words  furnish  us  with  three  reflec- 
tions. I.  The  disposal  of  states  and  nations 
is  the  work  of  Divine  Providence.  II.  Men 
may  serve  God  really,  when  they  do  not  serve 
him  by  design.  III.  We  shall  never  be  losers 
by  any  thing  we  do  for  God. 

I.  The  disposal  of  states  and  nations 
is  the  work  of  Divine  Providence.  This 
Daniel  confessed,  when  he  said,  "  Blessed 
be  the  name  of  God  for  ever  and  ever :  for 
wisdom  and  might  are  his :  and  he  changeth 
the  times  and  the  seasons :  he  removeth  kings, 
and  he  setteth  up  kings :  he  giveth  wisdom 
to  the  wise,  and  knowledge  to  them  that  know 
understanding."  He  rejected  Saul,  and  gave 
the  kingdom  to  David,  an  obscure  shepherd. 
He  took  the  ten  tribes  from  Rehoboam,  and 
transferred  them  to  Jeroboam,  originally  an 
inferior  officer  in  his  own  service.  It  was  occa- 
sioned, indeed,  by  the  imprudence  of  the 
king,  in  refusing  the  advice  of  the  old  men, 
and  following  the  rash  counsel  of  the  young ; 
but  "  the  thing,"  so  it  is  expressly  remarked, 
"  the  thing  was  of  the  Lord."  Thus  He  takes 
Egypt  from  Pharaoh-hophra,  and  adds  it  to 
the  possessions  and  territories  of  the  Babylon- 
ish monarch.  Nothing  could  be  a  greater 
judgment  upon  a  country,  than  to  be  laid  open 
to  the  horrors  of  invasion,  and  delivered  up  to 
the  despotism  of  an  unprincipled  tyrant,  who 
considered  them  as  his  property,  used  them  as 
his  tools,  degraded  them  as  his  vassals,  dis- 
posed of  them  as  his  victims — so  that  "  whom 
he  would  he  slew,  and  whom  he  would  he 
kept  alive" — But  "  the  Lord  gave  it  to  him." 

Do  we  examine  this  dispensation  in  refer- 
ence to  the  authority  of  God  1 — It  is  unques- 
tionably his  prerogative :  he  has  a  right  to  do 
what  he  will  with  his  own.  "  I  have  made 
the  earth,  the  man  and  the  beast  that  are  up- 
on the  ground,  by  my  great  power  and  by  my 
out-stretched  arm,  and  have  given  it  unto 
whom  it  seemeth  meet  unto  me." 

Do  we  consider  it  in  connection  with  the 
Divine  power  1 — Nothing  is  too  hard  for  the 
Lord  ;  no  difficulties  lie  in  his  way ;  he  moves 
— and  valleys  rise,  and  mountains  become  a 
plain :  "  all  nations  before  him  are  as  nothing, 
and  are  counted  to  him  less  than  nothing  and 
vanity."  "  When  he  giveth  quietness,  then 
who  can  make  trouble  1  and  when  he  hideth 
his  face,  then  who  can  behold  him  !  whether 
it  be  done  against  a  nation,  or  against  a  man 
only." 

Do  we  survey  the  relat  ion  it  has  to  the  righ- 
teousness of  God  1 — He  is  the  moral  governor 
of  the  universe,  "  who  renders  to  every  man 
according  to  their  works."  Individuals  can  be 


rewarded  or  punished  in  another  world  ;  but 
communities  are  judged  only  in  this.  Here 
he  deals  with  them  in  a  way  of  retribution ; 
and  in  none  of  his  proceedings  is  he  arbitrary : 
there  is  always  a  cause.  "  Righteousness  ex- 
alteth  a  nation,  and  sin  is  a  reproach  to  any  peo- 
ple." "  O  house  of  Israel,  cannot  I  do  with 
you  as  this  potter !  saith  the  Lord.  Behold, 
as  the  clay  is  in  the  potter's  hand,  so  are  ye 
in  my  hand,  O  house  of  Israel.  At  what  in- 
stant I  shall  speak  concerning  a  nation  and 
concerning  a  kingdom,  to  pluck  up,  and  to  pull 
down,  and  to  destroy  it;  if  that  nation,  against 
whom  I  have  pronounced,  turn  from  their 
evil,  I  will  repent  of  the  evil  that  I  thought  to 
do  unto  them.  And  at  what  instant  I  shall 
speak  concerning  a  nation,  and  concerning  a 
kingdom,  to  build  and  to  plant  it ;  if  it  do 
evil  in  my  sight,  that  it  obey  not  my  voice, 
then  I  will  repent  of  the  good  wherewith  I 
said  I  would  benefit  them." 

Do  we  think  of  it  in  application  to  our  own 
times  ? — We  should  remember  that  it  has  no- 
thing in  it  peculiar  or  uncommon ;  that  per- 
sons in  former  ages  are  to  be  viewed  as  fair 
specimens  of  human  nature  in  general,  and 
the  dealings  of  Divine  Providence  with  them 
as  holding  forth  the  unchangeable  nature  and 
perfections  of  God ;  that  "  he  is  the  governor 
among  the  nations"  now,  as  much  as  in  the 
days  of  Ezekiel ;  and  that  were  a  history  of 
modern  events  to  be  written  by  inspiration, 
we  should  find  him  "working  all  things  after 
the  counsel  of  his  own  will,"  and  read  it  re- 
corded, that  "out  of  him  came  forth  the  cor- 
ner, out  of  him  the  nail,  out  of  him  the  battle 
bow,  out  of  him  every  oppressor  together." 

And,  my  brethren,  this  is  precisely  the  view 
we  should  endeavour  to  take  of  these  changes. 
A  Christian  should  be  wiser  than  other  men; 
and  where  they  can  only  find  instruments,  he 
should  recognize  a  Divine  agency :  where 
they  only  see  a  creature,  he  should  acknow- 
ledge a  God,  "of  whom,  and  through  whom, 
and  to  whom,  are  all  things."  When  we 
view  this  sovereign  Cause  of  all  events,  the 
face  of  the  universe  is  changed ;  the  earth 
instantly  becomes  a  place  of  equity  and  or- 
der ;  the  history  of  the  world  is  the  history  of 
God,  and  is  worth  reading.  Unless  we  fix 
upon  this  principle,  we  shall  be  in  danger  of 
debasing  ourselves  by  joining  in  worldly  par- 
ties and  political  rage ;  of  feeling  too  much 
confidence  in  one  class  of  men,  and  too  much 
fear  of  another ;  or  prescribing  the  course  of 
events,  and  suffering  disappointment  and  mor- 
tification when  our  favourite  measures  are 
subverted.  We  have  seen  how  strangely  un- 
answerable to  any  human  expectation  various 
occurrences  have  proved  ;  how  little,  compa- 
ratively, there  is  in  the  various  modifications 
of  civil  policy  deserving  the  anxiety  of  a 
Christian ;  how  much,  under  all  forms  of  go- 
vernment, the  passions  of  men  remain  the 
same.    A  higher  remedy  is  necessary,  and  it 


SERMON  XXI. 


117 


is  to  be  found  in  the  Gospel  only ;  and  by 
their  favourable  bearings  on  the  diffusion  of 
this  blessing1  it  becomes  us  principally  to  es- 
timate all  public  revolutions.  This  is  the  end 
God  has  ultimately  in  view,  and  he  is  able  to 
accomplish  it.  He  is  "  wonderful  in  counsel, 
and  excellent  in  working."  He  is  doing  all 
things,  and  he  is  "  doing  all  things  well." 
Let  us  not  make  our  ignorance  the  standard 
of  his  perfection. — He  will  deduce  order  from 
confusion,  and  good  from  evil.  "  He  stilleth 
the  raging  of  the  sea,  and  the  tumult  of  the 
people."  "  The  Lord  reigneth  ;  let  the  earth 
rejoice,  let  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be  glad 
thereof."  "Surely,  O  Lord,  the  wrath  of 
man  shall  praise  thee;  the  remainder  of 
wratli  shalt  thou  restrain."  Which  leads  us 
to  observe, 

II.  That  men  may  serve  God  really, 

WHEN  THEY  DO  NOT  SERVE  HIM  BY  DESIGN. 

Nebuchadrezzar  and  his  army,  says  God, 
"  wrought  for  me."  "  O  Assyrian,  the  rod  of 
mine  anger,  and  the  staff  in  their  hand  is 
mine  indignation.  I  will  send  him  against 
an  hypocritical  nation,  and  against  the  people 
of  my  wrath  will  I  give  him  a  charge,  to  take 
the  spoil,  and  to  take  the  prey,  and  to  tread 
them  down  like  the  mire  of  the  streets. 
Howbeit  he  meaneth  not  so,  neither  doth  his 
heart  think  so ;  but  it  is  in  his  heart  to  destroy 
and  to  cut  off  nations  not  a  few." — The  men 
obeyed  their  commanders;  their  commanders 
obeyed  Nebuchadrezzar;  Nebuchadrezzar 
obeyed  his  pride,  ambition,  avarice,  revenge — 
and  his  pride,  ambition,  avarice,  and  revenge 
obeyed  the  will  of  Heaven.  He  knew  no- 
thing of  God ;  but  God  knew  him,  and  "  gird- 
ed and  guided  him."  He  had  one  end  in 
view,  and  God  another — but,  in  taking  a 
wicked  city,  he  was  fulfilling  the  word  of 
truth,  and  inflicting  the  judgments  of  Heaven 
— therefore  says  God,  "  he  wrought  for  me." 
And  what  do  we  learn  from  hence, — but  that 
great  men,  bad  men,  the  worst  of  men,  while 
pursuing  their  enterprises — are  subject  to  a 
Divine  control — are  impelled  in  a  prescribed 
direction — are  directed  to  a  destined  mark  1 

What  a  strange  scene  was  here — the  king 
of  Babylon  and  his  hosts  arming  at  the  Di- 
vine call,  and  marching  forth  to  subdue  coun- 
tries, to  plunder  provinces,  to  demolish  cities 
— and  in  all  this,  doing  God  service !  But 
God  can  turn  things  from  their  natural  ten- 
dency into  opposite  channels — he  can  make 
men  act  necessarily,  while  they  are  acting 
voluntarily — he  can  bind  them,  while  they 
feel  not  their  chains,  but  even  boast  of  their 
liberty.  He  has  many  designs  to  accomplish, 
and  he  suits  his  instruments  to  their  work — 
some  of  his  purposes  are  dreadful ;  and  he 
can  make  executioners  of  those  who  are  un- 
qualified to  wait  in  his  royal  presence.  Some 
of  them  are  preparatory — and  he  may  use,  in 
removing  the  rubbish,  those  who  could  not  be 
employed  in  the  erection  of  the  fair  edifice. 


And  thus  Nebuchadrezzar  is  called  the  ser- 
vant of  God,  as  well  as  the  apostle  Paul — but 
observe  the  difference  between  them  ;  and, 
as  God  will  derive  glory  from  all  his  crea- 
tures, inquire  which  of  these  characters  you 
are  resembling. — The  former  serves  God,  on- 
ly from  the  influence  of  an  overruling  Provi- 
dence— the  latter,  from  the  operation  of  di- 
vine grace — "Behold,  heprayeth:"  his  lan- 
guage is,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to 
do V — He  catches  the  Spirit  of  his  Master; 
enters  cheerfully  into  all  his  views  ;  doth  his 
will  "from  the  heart."  And  so  it  is  with  all 
his  sincere  followers.  Whatever  they  once 
were,  they  are  made  willing  in  the  day 
of  his  power;  their  minds  are  enlightened, 
their  dispositions  are  renewed ;  they  glorify 
him,  from  conviction  and  principle;  it  is  their 
aim ;  the  delight  of  their  souls,  and  the  busi- 
ness of  their  lives.  "  O  Lord,  other  lords  be- 
side thee  have  had  dominion  over  us ;  hence- 
forth by  thee  only  will  we  make  mention  of 
thy  name. — Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant 
heareth.  I  hold  myself  at  thy  disposal ;  pre- 
scribe the  laws  which  are  to  govern  me;  choose 
my  inheritance  for  me." — 

— Such  is  their  language  ;  and  never  will 
they  have  cause  to  repent  of  their  engage- 
ments. They  have  chosen  that  good  part 
which  shall  not  be  taken  from  them :  in  life 
and  in  death,  in  time  and  in  eternity,  they  will 
have  reason  to  say,  "Thou  hast  dealt  well 
with  thy  servant,  O  Lord."  For, 

III.  None  can  be  losers  by  any  thing 
they  do  for  God.  In  one  way  or  another, 
He  will  surely  recompense  them.  Even  ser- 
vices done  for  Him  by  worldly  men  obtain  a 
temporal  reward.  The  Egyptian  females, 
though  strangers  to  the  commonwealth  of  Is- 
rael, "  feared  God,  and  did  not  as  the  king 
commanded  them  ;  but  saved  the  men-chil- 
dren alive — therefore  God  dealt  well  with 
them,  and  he  made  them  houses."  Jehu  was 
a  vain,  ostentatious,  wicked  prince,  "  and  de- 
parted not  from  the  sins  of  Jeroboam  the  son 
of  Nebat,  who  made  Israel  to  sin" — but  "the 
Lord  said  unto  Jehu,  Because  thou  hast  done 
well  in  executing  that  which  is  right  in  mine 
eyes,  and  hast  done  unto  the  house  of  Ahab 
according  to  all  that  was  in  mine  heart,  thy 
children  of  the  fourth  generation  shall  sit  upon 
the  throne  of  Israel." — So  here,  "  I  have  given 
Nebuchadrezzar  the  land  of  Egypt  for  his  la- 
bour wherewith  he  served  against  it ;  because 
they  wrought  for  me,  saith  the  Lord  God." 
This  is  indeed  a  poor  recompense.  It  may 
appear  splendid  and  important  in  the  eye  of 
the  vain  and  the  sensual,  but  the  righteous  are 
far  from  envying  it.  They  dread  to  be  ex- 
cluded from  future  hope,  by  the  sentence, 
"  they  have  their  reward."  They  are  more 
afraid  of  the  destiny  than  of  the  malice  of  the 
wicked,  and  therefore  pray,  "  Deliver  my 
soul  from  the  wicked,  which  is  thy  sword ; 
from  men  of  the  world,  who  have  their  por- 


118 


SERMON  XXI. 


tion  in  this  life,  and  whose  belly  thou  fillest 
with  thy  hid  treasure :  they  are  full  of  chil- 
dren, and  leave  the  rest  of  their  substance  to 
their  babes. — As  for  me,  I  will  behold  thy 
face  in  righteousness :  I  shall  be  satisfied  when 
I  awake  with  thy  likeness."  Egypt  was  all 
the  remuneration  of  Nebuchadrezzar — and 
what  could  it  do  for  him?  What  is  it  to  him 
now  ] 

Ye  servants  of  the  most  high  God,  who 
know  him  and  love  him ;  He  has  provided 
some  better  thing  for  you.  You  may  argue 
from  the  less  to  the  greater — Does  he  reward 
heathens,  and  will  he  abandon  Christians  1 
Does  he  observe  slaves,  and  disregard  sons 
who  serve  him  !  Does  he  honour  instruments, 
and  pass  by  those  who  strive  to  please  and 
glorify  him  1  "  Fear  not,  little  flock,  for  it  is 
your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the 
kingdom."  He  who  noticed  the  hardships 
endured  by  the  poor  soldiers  before  Tyre, 
when  every  head  was  bald,  and  every  shoulder  | 
peeled,  will  not  suffer  you  to  labour  in  vain : 
he  sees  your  difficulties ;  considers  the  bur- 
dens under  which  you  bend ;  he  hears  your 
groans,  and  your  sighs — when  without  are 
fightings,  and  within  are  fears.  They  who 
speak  often  one  to  another,  and  they  who 
think  only  upon  his  Name,  are — recorded  in 
the  book  of  his  remembrance.  "  God  is  not 
unrighteous,  to  forg-et  your  work  of  faith  and 
labour  of  love."  He  applauded  the  widow's 
mite.  He  said  of  Mary,  "  She  hath  done 
what  she  could."  "  He  that  receiveth  a  pro- 
phet in  the  name  of  a  prophet,  shall  receive 
a  prophet's  reward  ;  and  he  that  receiveth  a 
righteous  man  in  the  name  of  a  righteous  man, 
shall  receive  a  righteous  man's  reward.  And 
whosoever  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of 
these  little  ones  a  cup  of  cold  water  only,  in 
the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily  I  say  unto  you, 
he  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward." 

Christians,  let  all  this  animate  you  to  vi- 
gorous and  increasing  exertion.  It  is  conde- 
scension and  kindness  in  God  to  employ  you. 
He  needs  you  not :  he  does  it  to  improve  you, 
to  honour  you,  to  enable  you  to  procure  what 
you  can  never  deserve  ;  to  give  your  happi- 
ness the  nature  of  a  reward.  Do  you  not 
long  to  be  employed  by  him !  Is  it  nothing  to 
be  workers  together  with  God  ?  Is  it  a  vain 
thing  to  serve  the  Lord  1  "  Godliness  is  pro- 
fitable unto  all  things ;  having  promise  of  the 
life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come." 
"There  is  no  man  that  hath  left  house,  or 
parents,  or  brethren,  or  wife,  or  children,  for 
the  kingdom  of  God's  sake,  who  shall  not  re- 
ceive manifold  more  in  this  present  time,  and 
in  the  world  to  come  life  everlasting."  "Be 
ye  strong  therefore  ;  and  let  not  your  hands 
be  weak ;  for  your  work  shall  be  rewarded." 

Do  you  ask — how  can  we  work  for  Him  1 
— In  pulling  down  the  strong-holds  of  sin ;  in 
diffusing  truth ;  in  supporting  the  Gospel ;  in 
maintaining  the  worship  of  God  ;  in  feeding 


the  hungry;  in  teaching  the  ignorant;  in  re- 
claiming the  vicious — for  "  it  is  not  the  will 
of  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  that  one  of 
these  little  ones  should  perish." 

Do  you  ask — And  what  will  be  our  reward  ? 
— You  will  find  it  in  the  very  nature  of  your 
work ;  you  will  find  it  in  the  glow  of  plea- 
sure which  attends  virtuous  exertion ;  you 
will  find  it  in  the  approving  testimony  of  your 
own  conscience ;  you  will  find  it  in  the  es- 
teem of  the  wise  and  good ;  you  will  find  it 
in  the  blessing  of  them  that  were  ready  to  pe- 
rish ;  you  will  find  it  in  the  applause  of  your 
Lord  and  Saviour — "  Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant ;  thou  hast  been  faithful  over 
a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  ma- 
ny things:  enterthou  into  the  joy  ofthy  Lord." 

— What !  some  are  ready  to  exclaim,  What, 
are  you  preaching  up  the  doctrine  of  merit ! 
— God  forbid.  Merit !  when  both  our  dispo- 
sition and  our  ability  to  serve  Him  come  from 
his  grace.  Merit !  when  there  is  no  propor- 
tion between  the  reward  and  the  work.  Me- 
rit! when,  after  we  have  done  all,  we  are  un- 
profitable servants,  and  have  done  no  more 
than  was  our  duty  to  do.  Merit !  when  in 
many  things  we  all  offend,  and  deserve  con- 
demnation for  our  defects  rather  than  recom- 
pense for  our  doings.  Merit!  when  all  who 
ever  served  God  aright  have  exclaimed,  "Not 
unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy 
name  give  we  glory,  for  thy  mercy  and  for 
thy  truth's  sake.  By  the  grace  of  God,  I  am 
what  I  am— I  laboured — yet  not  I,  but  the 
grace  of  God  which  was  with  me" — But  let 
us  not,  under  a  senseless  clamour,  be  afraid 
to  do  justice  to  the  language  of  Scripture — 
to  bring  forward  motives  which  we  find  stat- 
ed by  Infinite  Wisdom — to  display  the  muni- 
ficence of  God — the  folly  of  those  who  refuse 
his  yoke — the  wisdom  of  those  who  serve  him 
— "Wherefore,  my  beloved  brethren,  be  ye 
steadfast,  unmoveable,  alwaysaboundingSnthe 
work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye  know  that 
your  labour  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 

Finally,  Let  us  think  of  the  Saviour.  Did 
God  remunerate  a  despicable  tyrant  for  his 
labour  and  hardships — though  they  were  not 
personal, and  for  fulfilling  His  purpose — though 
it  was  not  intentional  1  "  Behold  his  Servant 
whom  he  upholds,  his  Elect  in  whom  his  soul 
delighteth."  This  was  expressly  his  motive : 
"  Lo !  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God :  thy  law 
is  within  my  heart."  He  trod  "the  wine- 
press alone,  and  of  the  people  there  was  none 
with  him."  Behold  him  poor,  not  having 
where  to  lay  his  head  ;  despised  and  rejected 
of  men;  exceeding  sorrowful.  What  a  life 
of  suffering !  what  a  death  of  anguish ! — What 
does  God  think  of  all  this'!  "  He  was  obedient 
unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross. — 
Wherefore  God  also  hath  highly  exalted 
him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is  above 
every  name :  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every 
knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and 


SERMON  XXII. 


119 


things  in  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth ; 
and  that  every  tongue  should  confess  that  Je- 
sus Christ  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Fa- 
ther." "He  shall  see  his  seed,  he  shall  pro- 
long his  days,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord 
shall  prosper  in  his  hands.  He  shall  see  of 
the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied. 
Therefore  will  I  divide  him  a  portion  with 
the  great,  and  he  shall  divide  the  spoil  with 
the  strong;  because  he  hath  poured  out  his 
soul  unto  death :  and  he  was  numbered  with 
the  transgressors ;  and  he  bare  the  sin  of  ma- 
ny, and  made  intercession  for  the  transgress- 
ors. Ask  of  me,  and  I  shall  give  thee  the  hea- 
then for  thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  possession.  His 
Name  shall  endure  for  ever;  his  Name  shall 
be  continued  as  long  as  the  sun :  and  men 
shall  be  blessed  in  him ;  all  nations  shall  call 
him  blessed.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Is- 
rael, who  only  doeth  wonderful  things.  And 
blessed  be  his  glorious  Name  for  ever ;  and  let 
the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory. 
Amen,  and  Amen." 


SERMON  XXII. 


THE  DISAPPOINTMENTS  OF  LIFE. 
Then  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest. — Job 
xxix.  18. 

If  we  examine  the  world  in  which  we 
live,  we  shall  everywhere  discover  variety, 
changeableness,  and  succession.  Here  plains 
rise  into  mountains,  and  there  hills  sink  into 
valleys.  We  see  well-watered  meadows,  and 
dry  and  barren  sands.  We  rejoice  in  the 
light ;  but  we  are  soon  enveloped  in  darkness. 
We  hail  the  loveliness  of  spring,  and  welcome 
the  approach  of  summer ;  but  the  agreeable 
months  soon  roll  away,  and  the  north  pours 
down  the  desolations  of  winter.  Equally 
checquered  and  variable  is  human  life.  Our 
bodies,  our  relations,  our  conditions  and  cir- 
cumstances, are  perpetually  changing.  But 
this  diversity  constitutes  the  beauty  and  the 
glory  of  Providence.  It  displays  the  Divine 
perfections,  by  rendering  their  interposition 
necessary  and  obvious.  It  furnishes  means, 
by  which  the  dispositions  of  men  are  tried, 
and  their  characters  formed.  It  lays  hold  of 
their  hope  and  fear,  joy  and  sorrow ;  and  ex- 
ercisesevery  principle  of  their  nature,  in  their 
education  for  eternity. 

Hence  Divine  Providence  is  always  de- 
serving of  our  attention.  Providence— is  God 
in  motion.  Providence — is  God  teaching  by 
facta  Providence — is  God  fulfilling,  explain- 
ing, enforcing  his  own  word.  Providence — 
is  God  rendering  natural  events  subservient 
to  spiritual  purposes— rousing  our  attention 
when  we  are  careless— reminding  us  of  our 
obligations  when  we  are  ungrateful — recall- 
ing our  confiJenco  when  we  depart  from  him 


by  dependence  upon  creatures.  "  Whoso  is 
wise,  and  will  observe  these  things,  even 
they  shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of 
the  Lord." 

The  words  which  I  have  read  give  us  an  op- 
portunity to  pursue  and  improve  these  reflec- 
tions.— When  Job  uttered  them,  "  he  had  se- 
ven sons  and  three  daughters.  His  substance 
also  was  seven  thousand  sheep,  and  three 
thousand  camels,  and  five  hundred  yoke 
of  oxen,  and  five  hundred  she-asses,  and  a 
very  great  household ;  so  that  this  man  was 
the  greatest  of  all  the  men  of  the  east." 
Hear  his  own  language :  "  I  washed  my  steps 
with  butter,  and  the  rock  poured  me  out 
rivers  of  oil.  When  I  went  out  to  the  gate 
through  the  city,  when  I  prepared  my  seat  in 
the  street,  the  young  men  saw  me,  and  hid 
themselves ;  and  the  aged  arose  and  stood  up : 
the  princes  refrained  talking,  and  laid  their 
hand  on  their  mouth ;  the  nobles  held  their 
peace,  and  their  tongue  cleaved  to  the  roof  of 
their  mouth" — He  had  something  better  than 
all  this — "  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it 
blessed  me ;  and  when  the  eye  saw  me,  it 
gave  witness  to  me  :  because  I  delivered  the 
poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and  him 
that  had  none  to  help  him.  The  blessing  of 
him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  me : 
and  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy. 
[  put  on  righteousness,  and  it  clothed  me :  my 
judgment  was  a  robe  and  a  diadem.  I  was 
eyes  to  the  blind,  and  feet  was  I  to  the  lame. 
I  was  a  father  to  the  poor :  and  the  cause 
which  1  knew  not  I  searched  out.  And  I 
brake  the  jaws  of  the  wicked,  and  plucked  the 
spoil  out  of  his  teeth. — Then  I  said,  I  shall 
die  in  my  nest. — Then — when  I  had  such 
wealth,  power,  authority,  honour — Then — 
when  all  was  green  and  flowery,  when  my  sky 
was  clear  and  no  cloud  appeared — Then — 
concluding  on  the  permanency  of  my  condi- 
tion, imagining  I  was  in  no-danger  of  vicissi- 
tude, and  supposing  I  should  live  happy  and 
end  my  days  in  peace — Then  I  said,  I  shall 
die  in  my  nest." — ■ 

What  does  this  passage  of  Scripture  imply 
and  express]  What  views  and  feelings  of 
mind  does  it  characterize  1 

I.  In  these  words  we  see  something  good 
— Even  in  his  greatest  prosperity,  Job  thought 
of  dying:  whatever  changes  he  hoped  to  es- 
cape in  life,  he  expected  an  hour  of  dissolu- 
tion, and  knew,  if  his  possessions  were  conti- 
nued, he  should  be  called  to  leave  them. 

Death  is  always  an  irksome  consideration 
to  the  man  of  the  world,  who  has  his  portion 
in  this  life,  and  possesses  no  hope  of  a  better 
— He  therefore  strives  to  banish  it  from  his 
thoughts.  He  puts  far  off  the  evil  day,  and 
lives  as  if  he  flattered  himself  with  an  im- 
mortality upon  earth.  But  the  believer  keeps 
up  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  it.  He  does 
not  think  of  death  only  when  trouble  embit- 
ters life,  and  forces  him  to  say,  "  I  loathe  it ; 


120 


SERMON  XXII. 


I  would  not  live  always."  He  reflects  upon 
it  when  the  world  smiles,  as  well  as  when  it 
frowns.  Whatever  be  his  present  circum- 
stances, he  feels  and  confesses  himself  to  be 
a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  on  the  earth.  His 
hope  is  always  infinitely  superior  to  his  en- 
joyments: beyond  the  grave,  he  has  a  house, 
not  made  with  hands;  a  city,  which  hath 
foundations;  a  better,  a  heavenly  country; 
more  numerous,  more  endeared  connections 
— There  lies  his  inheritance — there  dwells 
his  Father — there  is  his  eternal  home.  Hence 
we  have  seen  even  persons  possessed  of  riches, 
honour,  friends,  health,  and  surrounded  with 
every  thing  desirable,  "  willing  to  depart,  to 
be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better." 

It  must,  however,  be  acknowledged,  that  it 
is  far  more  difficult  to  maintain  this  state  of 
mind  in  pleasing  and  prosperous  circum- 
stances, than  in  trying  and  distressing  scenes. 
It  was  a  wise  reflection  of  Charles  the  Fifth  to 
the  Duke  of  Venice,  when  he  shewed  him  the 
Treasury  of  St.  Mark,  and  the  glory  of  his 
princely  palace — Instead  of  admiring  them,  he 
said — "  These  are  the  things  that  make  men 
so  loath  to  die."  When  every  thing  is  agree- 
able in  our  condition,  we  are  in  danger  of 
feeling  a  disposition  to  settle,  and  of  saying, 
"  It  is  good  for  us  to  be  here" — Not,  "  Arise, 
let  us  go  hence."  We  think  of  adorning,  not 
leaving;  of  pulling  down  our  barns  and  building 
greater,  not  of  contracting  all  into  the  narrow 
limits  of  the  grave.  But  it  would  be  wise  to 
take  often  realizing  views  of  death.  It  would 
come  over  us  like  a  cloud,  to  cool  our  brain- 
less ardours — It  would  check  the  pride  of  life, 
which  so  often  carries  us  away — It  would 
sanctify  our  possessions,  and  keep  our  prospe- 
rity from  destroying  us — It  would  lead  us  to 
use  soberly  and  profitably  those  talents  of 
which  so  shortly  we  must  give  up  our  ac- 
count— It  would  excite  us  to  secure  those 
things  in  their  uses  and  effects  which  we 
cannot  retain  in  their  substance — and  urge 
us  to  be  "rich  in  good  works;  ready  to  dis- 
tribute, willing  to  communicate ;  laying  up 
in  store  for  ourselves  a  good  foundation 
against  the  time  to  come  ;"  and  to  make  our- 
selves "  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrigh- 
teousness, that  when  we  fail  they  may  receive 
us  into  everlasting  habitations." 

Accustom  yourselves,  therefore,  to  reflec- 
tions so  useful,  and  learn  to  "die  daily." 
Say,  while  walking  over  your  fields,  The  hour 
is  coming  when  I  shall  behold  you  no  more — 
When  you  go  over  your  mansion,  "If  I  wait, 
the  grave  is  my  house" — As  you  estimate 
your  property,  "  I  cannot  tell  who  shall  gather 
it"  This  apparel,  which  I  now  lay  aside' and 
resume,  I  shall  soon  lay  aside  for  ever — and  1 
this  bed,  in  which  I  now  enjoy  the  sleep  of 
nature,  will  by-and-by  feel  me  chilling  it  with 
the  damps  of  death.  "  Lord,  make  me  to  know 
mine  end,  and  the  measure  of  my  days,  what 
it  is,  that  I  may  know  how  frail  I  am  !"  And 


surely  it  requires  contrivance  and  difficulty  to 
keep  off" reflections  so  reasonable  and  salutary. 
Every  thing  is  forcing  the  consideration  upon 
you — every  thing  is  saying,  "The  time  is 
short :  it  remaineth  that  they  that  have  wives 
be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  thpy  that 
weep,  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that 
rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they 
that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not ;  and 
they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it: 
for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away." 
I  am  the  more  diligent,  says  the  apostle  Peter, 
"knowing  that  I  must  shortly  put  oft' this  my  ta- 
bernacle; even  as  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  hath 
shewed  me."  And  has  he  not  shewed  you  the 
same — if  not  by  immediate  revelation,  yet  by 
the  language  of  Scripture,  by  the  brevity  of 
life,  by  the  loss  of  connections,  by  personal 
decays  ? — "  Stand  with  your  loins  girded,  and 
your  lamps  burning," — "  Man,  that  is  born  of 
a  woman,  is  of  few  days,  and  full  of  trouble. 
He  cometh  forth  like  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down : 
he  fleeth  also  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth 
not."  "  The  fathers,  where  are  they  1  and 
the  prophets,  do  they  live  for  ever]"  We  en- 
ter the  city — and  see  man  going  to  his  long 
home,  and  the  mourners  going  about  the 
streets.  We  enter  the  sanctuary — and  miss 
those  with  whom  we  once  took  sweet  coonsel, 
and  went  to  the  house  of  God  in  company — 
their  places  know  them  no  more  for  ever. 
We  enter  our  own  dwellings;  and  painful 
recollection  is  awakened  by  the  seats  they 
once  filled,  by  the  books  they  once  read,  and 
have  left  folded  down  with  their  own  hands : 
we  walk  from  room  to  room,  and  sigh, 
"  Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me, 
and  mine  acquaintance  into  darkness."  We 
examine  ourselves,  and  find  that  our  strength 
is  not  the  strength  of  stones,  nor  are  our  bones 
brass ;  we  are  crushed  before  the  moth  ;  at 
our  best  estate,  we  are  altogether  vanity — And 
is  it  for  such  beings  to  live  as  if  they  were 
never  to  die !  O  Lord,  "  so  teach  us  to  num- 
ber our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts 
unto  wisdom." 

II.  In  these  words  we  see  something  de- 
sirable. Who  does  not  wish  to  have  his 
possessions  and  enjoyments  continued  !  to  es- 
cape painful  revolutions  in  his  circumstances? 
"to  die  in  his  nest]"  We  talk  of  the  benefit 
of  affliction — but  affliction,  simply  considered, 
is  not  eligible.  We  decry  the  passions — but 
we  are  required  to  regulate  the  passions,  ra- 
ther than  expel  them.  We  appeal  to  Scrip- 
ture— but  the  Scripture  knows  nothing  of  a 
religion  founded  upon  the  ruins  of  humanity, 
and  unsuitable  to  the  life  that  now  is.  He 
who  made  us  knows  our  frame,  and  does  not 
expect  us  to  be  indifferent  to  pain  or  ease,  to 
sickness  or  health,  to  indigence  or  compe- 
tency, to  exile  or  a  place  where  to  lay  our 
heads.  These  temporal  things  are  good  in 
themselves ;  they  are  needful :  we  have  bo- 
dies as  well  as  souls ;  we  have  connections  to 


SERMON  XXII. 


121 


provide  for,  as  well  as  our  own  persons.  They 
are  sometimes  promised  in  Scripture.  We 
find  pious  men  praying  for  them ;  and  their 
prayers  are  recorded  with  honour.  Our  er- 
ror in  desiring  them  consists  in  two  things. 

First,  in  desiring  them  unconditionally. 
In  praying  for  temporal  blessings,  we  are  al- 
ways to  keep  a  reserve  upon  our  wishes,  in- 
cluding submission  to  the  will  of  God,  and  a 
reference  to  our  real  welfare.  For  we  often 
know  not  what  to  pray  for  as  we  ought,  and 
may  be  more  injured  by  the  gratification  than 
by  the  refusal  of  our  desires.  We  know  our- 
selves very  imperfectly,  and  hence  we  cannot 
determine  what  influence  untried  circum- 
stances would  have  upon  our  minds.  Placed 
in  the  same  situations  with  others,  we  may 
act  the  very  part  we  now  condemn.  The 
changes  which  may  take  place  in  our  cha- 
racter may  surprise  others  and  shock  our- 
selves. "  Who  knoweth  what  is  good  for 
man  in  this  life,  all  the  days  of  his  vain  life 
which  he  spendeth  as  a  shadow  V  Why  God, 
and  God  only — Refer,  therefore,  the  decision 
to  Him :  it  is  your  interest  as  well  as  your 
duty  to  leave  him  to  choose  all  for  you — 

"  His  choice  is  safer  than  your  own. 

"  Of  ages  past  inquire — 
" — What  the  most  formidable  fate? 

H  To  have  your  own  desire." 

Hence,  the  prayer  which  Socrates  taught  his 
pupil  Alcibiades  is  not  unworthy  the  use  of  a 
Christian — "  That  he  should  beseech  the  Su- 
preme Being  to  give  him  what  was  good  for 
him,  though  he  should  not  ask  it ;  and  to  with- 
hold from  him  whatever  was  injurious,  if  by 
his  folly  he  should  be  led  to  pray  for  it." 

Secondly,  When  we  desire  them  supreme- 
ly. For  whatever  be  their  utility,  they  are 
not  to  be  compared  with  spiritual  blessings  in 
heavenly  places  in  Christ.  Things  are  to  be 
valued  and  pursued  according  to  their  impor- 
tance. Many  things  are  serviceable ;  "  but 
one  thing  is  needful."  Civil  freedom  is  va- 
luable— but  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of 
God  is  much  more  precious.  It  is  well  for  the 
body  to  be  in  health — but  it  is  much  better  for 
the  soul  to  prosper.  Silver  and  gold  are  use- 
ful— but  there  are  durable  riches  with  righ- 
teousness. It  is  pleasing  to  die  in  our  nest — 
but  it  is  much  more  desirable  to  die  even  in  a 
prison  or  upon  a  dunghill,  if  we  can  say,  with 
Simeon,  "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word  ;  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation." 

III.  In  these  words  we  find  something  very 
common — It  is  affluence  and  ease  cherishing 
confidence  and  presumption — It  is  a  supposi- 
tion that  we  shall  have  no  changes  because 
we  feel  none.  The  consequence  is  natural, 
and  it  is  easily  explained.  Present  things 
most  powerfully  impress  the  mind.  Take  a 
man  in  trouble,  and  with  what  difficulty  will 
you  persuade  him  to  expect  better  days !  The 
gloom  of  his  situation  darkens  his  very  soul, 
Q  11 


and  the  burden  of  his  afflictions  presses  and 
keeps  down  every  cheerful  sentiment.  Take 
a  man  in  agreeable  circumstances,  and  his 
feelings  will  give  a  colour  to  future  scenes . 
every  thing  will  appear  favourable,  because 
every  thing  is  easy.  The  mind,  softened 
down  by  indulgence,  shrinks  even  from  the 
contemplation  of  difficulties.  And  when  ex- 
perience has  not  furnished  him  with  any  in- 
stances of  the  precariousness  of  worldly 
things,  he  leans  on  these  supports  too  firmly, 
and  does  not  suspect  that  they  will  give  way. 
Hence  Agur  prefers  mediocrity  to  wealth — 
"  Lest  I  be  full,  and  deny  thee,  and  say,  Who 
is  the  Lord  1  Hence  we  are  to  charge  the 
rich,  "  not  to  trust  in  uncertain  riches  :"  the 
admonition  implies  the  tendency  there  is  in 
the  affluent  to  indulge  such  a  dependence. 
Having  friends  and  powerful  alliances,  and 
encouraged  by  the  success  of  their  former 
plans  and  exertions,  the  conclusion  follows 
— "  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much 
more  abundant."  "  Their  inward  thought  is, 
that  their  houses  shall  continue  for  ever,  and 
their  dwelling  places  to  all  generations :  they 
call  their  land  after  their  own  name."  "  He 
saith,  in  his  heart,  I  shall  never  be  moved  ; 
for  I  never  shall  be  in  adversity."  Hear  the 
man  whose  ground  brought  forth  plentifully  : 
"  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many 
years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry." — When  did  not  prosperity  promote 
carnal  security  and  presumptuous  confidence  } 
Of  Moab  God  complains,  "  Thou  hast  trusted 
in  thy  works  and  in  thy  treasures." — "  Jeshu- 
run  waxed  fat,  and  kicked — Then  he  forsook 
God  which  made  him,  and  lightly  esteemed 
the  Rock  of  his  salvation." 

For  this  is  not  the  case  with  the  people  of 
the  world  only — even  the  godly  are  in  danger 
of  the  same  evil.  David  is  an  example. 
Though  he  had  passed  through  very  trying 
scenes,  the  ease  which  succeeded  seems  to 
have  abolished  the  memory  of  them,  and 
by  continued  indulgence  his  hopes  became 
earthly  and  rash — "  In  my  prosperity,  I  said, 
I  shall  never  be  moved."  Good  Hezekiah 
furnishes  another  instance.  He  had  been 
recovered  from  sickness,  delivered  from  inva- 
sion, and  enriched  by  presents — "  But  Heze- 
kiah rendered  not  again  according  to  the  be- 
nefit done  unto  him;  for  his  heart  was  lifted 
up" — His  greatness  elated  him.  He  gloried 
in  his  abundance,  and  vainly  exposed  the 
treasures  of  his  palace :  to  the  ambassadors  of 
Babylon  he  showed  his  nest — and  they  told 
Nebuchadrezzar  their  master,  who  returned 
and  took  it — it  is  the  very  image  under  which 
this  plunderer  speaks  of  his  pillage— "By 
the  strength  of  my  hand  I  have  done  it,  and 
by  my  wisdom ;  for  I  am  prudent :  and  I  have 
removed  the  bounds  of  the  people,  and  have 
robbed  their  treasures;  and  my  hand  hath 
found  as  a  nest  the  riches  of  the  people :  and 
as  one  gathereth  eggs  that  are  left,  have  I 


*22 


SERMON  XXII. 


gathered  all  the  earth  ;  and  there  was  none  | 
that  moved  the  wing,  or  opened  the  mouth, 
or  peeped."    And  this  brings  us, 

IV.  To  observe  in  these  words  something 
very  false  and  vain — "  Then  I  said,  I  shall 
die  in  my  nest !"  Ah,  Job  ! — "  Boast  not  thy- 
self of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what 
a  day  may  bring  forth."  "  While  you  speak, 
the  storm  is  rising  which  will  shake  down 
your  nest,  and  lodge  its  contents  upon  the 
dunghill."  In  a  few  hours,  you  will  be  de- 
prived of  all — one  messenger  shall  announce 
the  loss  of  your  cattle — another,  the  destruc- 
tion of  your  servants — a  third,  the  death  of 
your  children.  You  will  feel  your  health  con- 
verted into  loathsomeness  and  disease — and 
you  will  sit  amongst  the  ashes,  and  take  a 
potsherd  to  scrape  yourself  withal.  And 
while  your  head  is  bare  to  the  pelting  of  the 
pitiless  storm — your  friends  will  come  around 
you,  and  read  you  lectures  upon  hypocrisy, 
and  insinuate  that  the  sins  in  which  you  have 
privately  indulged  have  at  last  found  you  out 

— Miserable  comforters !  And  you,  alas! 

how  changed  your  voice ! — You  will  say,  in 
the  bitterness  of  your  soul,  "  I  was  not  in 
safety,  neither  had  I  rest,  neither  was  I  quiet 
— yet  trouble  came." 

— So  ignorant  are  we  of  futurity — so  erro- 
neous are  we  in  our  calculations — so  liable 
are  we  to  mortifying  vicissitudes  !  "The  in- 
habitants of  Maroth  waited  carefully  for 
good,  but  evil  came  down  from  the  Lord  unto 
the  gate  of  Jerusalem."  "  Behold,"  says  He- 
zekiah,  "  for  peace  I  had  great  bitterness." 
"  We  looked  for  peace,"  says  the  Church, 
"  but  no  good  came  ;  and  for  a  time  of  health, 
and  behold  trouble !"  Indeed  whatever  en- 
gages our  affection  may  become  a  source  of 
sorrow  :  whatever  excites  our  hope  may  prove 
the  means  of  disappointment.  Such  is  the 
hard  condition  upon  which  we  take  all  our 
earthly  comforts. — ■ 

Are  we  secure  from  disappointment  with 
regard  to  Life  1  This  is  the  tenure  by  which 
we  hold  all  our  possessions,  and  nothing  can 
be  more  uncertain.  "  For  man  also  knoweth 
not  his  time :  as  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in 
an  evil  net,  and  the  birds  that  are  caught  in 
the  snare  ;  so  are  the  sons  of  men  snared  in 
an  evil  time,  when  it  falleth  suddenly  upon 
them."  "  Go  to  now,  ye  that  say,  To-day  or 
to-morrow  we  will  go  into  such  a  city,  and 
continue  there  a  year,  and  buy  and  sell,  and 
get  gain :  whereas  ye  know  not  what  shall 
be  on  the  morrow.  For  what  is  your  life"! 
It  is  even  a  vapour,  that  appeareth  for  a  little 
time,  and  then  vanisheth  away." 

— Are  we  secure  from  disappointment  in 
our  Health  1  This  blessing  is  necessary  to 
our  relishing  every  other  enjoyment:  but  how 
precarious  is  the  continuance  of  it !  Upon  how 
many  delicate  and  combined  causes  does  it 
depend  !  How  easily  may  some  of  them  be 
deranged !  Are  we  ever  safe  from  those  acci- 


dents which  may  strike,  or  those  diseases 
which  may  invade  us  1  How  many  have  been 
compelled  by  pain  and  indisposition  to  drop  an 
enterprise  which  they  had  undertaken,  a  jour- 
ney which  they  had  begun  ! 

— Are  we  secure  from  disappointment  with 
regard  to  Children  1  The  forebodings  of  the 
parental  mind  are  fond  and  flattering  :  but, 
oh !  how  unanswerable  to  eager  expectation 
have  events  often  proved !  "  This  same  shall 
comfort  us"  has  been  said  of  many  a  child, 
who  has  been  dismembered  or  sickly  in  body, 
beclouded  in  understanding,  vicious  and  dis- 
orderly in  life,  embarrassed  and  miserable  in 
circumstances. — The  father  had  looked  for- 
ward and  promised  himself  an  entertaining 
companion ;  and  behold  the  care  and  the  ex- 
pense of  fourteen  years  carried  down  to  the 
grave  !  See  Rachel — she  has  been  laying  aside 
the  little  garments  her  busy  hands  had  wrought, 
and  putting  out  of  sight  the  toys  which  lately 
charmed  the  desire  of  her  eyes — and,  "  weep- 
ing for  her  children,  refuses  to  be  comforted, 
because  they  are  not." 

— Are  we  secure  from  disappointment  with 
regard  to  Friendship  1  How  many  of  our 
connections  have  dropped  us  already,  and  by 
their  painful  defections  have  called  upon  us 
to  cease  from  man !  How  small  is  the  num- 
ber of  true  sterling  friends,  who  will  abide 
the  day  of  trial !  Some  of  those  who  are  now 
fawning,  would  not,  if  a  change  of  circum- 
stances occurred,  even  know  us.  They  leave 
the  garden  in  winter — there  is  nothing  to  ga- 
ther. The  flower  which  they  placed  in  their 
bosom — as  soon  as  it  has  exhaled  its  perfume, 
they  throw  withered  into  the  dirt.  Of  what 
use  is  the  scaffolding  when  the  building  is 
finished — it  is  laid  by'  out  of  sight.  "  My 
brethren,"  says  the  renowned  sufferer,  "have 
dealt  deceitfully  as  a  brook,  and  as  the  stream 
of  brooks  they  pass  away :  what  time  they 
wax  warm,  they  vanisli ;  when  it  is  hot,  they 
are  consumed  out  of  their  place." 

— Are  we  secure  from  disappointment  with 
regard  to  Property  1  Where  can  you  safely 
lay  up  treasure  upon  earth  1  Water  inundates, 
flames  devour,  moth  and  rust  corrupt,  thieves 
break  through  and  steal.  Riches  make  to 
themselves  wings  and  flee  away.  Appear- 
ances may  be  favourable,  plans  may  be  well 
laid,  every  assistance  necessary  to  success 
may  be  procured — but  "  the  race  is  not  to  the 
swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ;  neither 
yet  bread  to  the  wise,  nor  yet  riches  to  men 
of  understanding,  nor  yet  favour  to  men  of 
skill ;  but  time  and  chance  happeneth  to  them 
all."  "  Money  is  a  defence,"  and  hence  it  is 
so  anxiously  desired,  so  universally  pursued — 
but  how  many  have  fallen  from  the  highest 
affluence  into  the  depths  of  indigence,  and 
have  had  their  necessities  embittered  by  the 
recollection  of  the  plenty  which  once  made 
their  cup  to  run  over !  "  Wo  to  him  that 
coveteth  an  evil  covetousness  to  his  house, 


SERMON  XXII. 


123 


that  he  may  set  his  nest  on  high,  that  he 
may  be  delivered  from  the  power  of  evil  1" 
"Though  thou  exalt  thyself  as  the  eagle,  and 
though  thou  set.  thy  nest  amongst  the  stars, 
thence  will  I  bring  thee  down,  saith  the  Lord." 

Let  us  conclude  by  observing — that  it 
would  be  an  abuse  of  this  part  of  our  subject, 
were  you  to  suppose  that  we  recommend 
you  to  cherish  everlasting  apprehension  and 
gloom.  Much  of  our  happiness  lies  in  freedom 
from  suspicion  and  anxiety.  To  live  with  a 
troubled  and  desponding  mind  is  as  bad  as  any 
thing  we  can  actually  suffer.  Imaginary 
grief  is  frequently  worse  than  real.  It  is 
displeasing  to  God  when  we  sour  the  mercies 
he  gives  us  to  enjoy,  by  distrust.  We  may 
avoid  solicitude,  and  not  be  guilty  of  the 
worldly  confidence  which  we  have  condemn- 
ed.   But  it  does  require  you, 

First,  To  be  moderate  in  your  attachments, 
and  sober  in  your  expectations.    The  way  to 
escape  disappointment,  is  to  keep  your  hopes 
humble,  and  to  cultivate  such  a  disposition  as 
David  expressed  when  he  said,  "  Lord,  my 
heart  is  not  haughty,  nor  mine  eyes  lofty : 
neither  do  I  exercise  myself  in  great  matters, 
or  in  things  too  high  for  me.    Surely  I  have 
behaved  and  quieted  myself  as  a  child  that  is 
weaned  of  his  mother :  my  soul  is  even  as  a 
weaned  child."    The  admonition  of  the  wise 
man  is  not  designed  to  embitter  the  comforts 
of  life,  but  to  remind  us  of  its  unavoidable  ca- 
lamities, and  to  keep  us  from  being  surprised 
and  disconcerted  when  they  arrive — "If  a 
man  live  many  years  and  rejoice  in  them  all ; 
yet  let  him  remember  the  days  of  darkness,  for 
they  shall  be  many :  all  that  cometh  is  vani- 
ty."   If,  in  spite  of  reason,  and  the  uniform 
deposition  of  travellers,  you  will  go  forth,  as- 
sured that  in  your  journey  the  weather  will  be 
always  fair,  and  the  road  always  smooth — you 
must  be  left  to  the  tuition  of  events.    If  you 
will  enter  the  world,  expecting  to  find  it  a 
paradise,  thorns  and  briers,  and  scorpions  and 
drought,  will  soon  convince  you  that  you  are 
in  a  wilderness.    This  caution,  my  young 
friends,  peculiarly  belongs  to  you.    Your  age 
is  sanguine.    You  are  most  liable  to  be  de- 
ceived by  appearances,  because  you  have  not 
found  how  seldom  they  accord  with  reality. 
Do  not  form  too  flattering  a  picture  of  human 
life.    Believe  the  testimony  of  Scripture.  Go 
sometimes  to  the  house  of  mourning,  rather 
than  to  the  house  of  mirth.    Listen  to  those 
who  have  gone  before  you.    You  only  see  a 
little  narrow  arm  of  the  sea  sheltered  by  the 
neighbouring  hills ;  but  some  have  sailed  be- 
yond the  reach  of  your  eye,  and  have  seen 
storms  and  wrecks. 

Secondly,  It  calls  upon  you  to  seek  a  better 
ground  of  confidence,  and  to  make  the  Lord 
your  trust.  Creatures  are  broken  reeds,  but 
he  is  the  Rock  of  Ages.  They  are  broken 
cisterns,  but  he  is  the  fountain  of  living  wa- 
ters.   "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  nor  in 


the  son  of  man,  in  whom  there  is  no  help. 
His  breath  goeth  forth,  lie  returneth  to  his 
earth ;  in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish." 
"Happy  is  he  that  hath  the  God  of  Jacob  for 
his  help,  whose  hope  is  in  the  Lord  his  God." 
Yes;  there  is  something  firm  and  certain. 
God  will  not  deceive  us,  cannot  disappoint  us. 
His  power  is  almighty,  his  mercy  endureth 
for  ever,  his  word  is  "faithfulness  and  truth. 
"  Therefore  will  I  look  unto  the  Lord,  I  will 
wait  for  the  God  of  my  salvation."  Having 
committed  all  my  concerns  into  his  hands, 
and  knowing  that  He  careth  for  me,  I  am 
careful  for  nothing.  Persuaded  that  He  who 
has  the  direction  of  every  event  will  make  all 
things  to  work  together  for  my  good,  I  feel  a 
peace  which  passeth  all  understanding,  and 
rejoice  in  the  language  of  the  Church,  "  God 
is  our  refuge  and  strength ;  a  very  present 
help  in  trouble :  therefore  will  we  not  fear, 
though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  though  the 
mountains  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea ; 
though  the  waters  thereof  roar  and  be  trou- 
bled, and  the  mountains  shake  with  the  swell- 
ing thereof."  "  There  is  a  river,  the  streams 
whereof  shall  make  glad  the  city  of  God,  the 
holy  place  of  the  tabernacles  of  the  Most 
High." 

Thirdly,  It  calls  upon  you  to  seek  after  a  pre- 
paration for  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life.  It 
•is  better  to  depend  upon  constitution  than  at- 
mosphere, and  to  be  equal  to  any  climate  ra- 
ther than  confined  to  one.  It  is  better  to  de- 
pend upon  appetite  than  dainties — delicacies 
are  not  always  to  be  procured  ;  and  what  be- 
comes of  you  when  they  are  wanting,  if  you 
cannot  live  upon  common  food !  Divine  grace 
will  preserve  the  balance  of  the  soul  in  vary- 
ing conditions  :  it  will  secure  you  in  prospe- 
rity, and  sustain  you  in  the  day  of  adversity. 
This  sanctified  Daniel  when  a  minister  of 
state,  and  soothed  him  when  in  the  den  of  li- 
ons. This  enabled  Paul  to  say,  "I  know  both 
how  to  be  abased,  and  I  know  how  to  abound : 
every  where,  and  in  all  things,  I  am  instruct- 
ed both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to 
abound  and  to  sufTer  need.  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ  who  strengthens  me." 

Finally,  It  calls  upon  you  to  look  beyond 
this  vain  and  mutable  world  to  a  state  of  solid 
and  unchangeable  happiness.  Whatever  ad- 
vantages religion  affords,  by  enabling  us  to 
endure  and  to  improve  the  difficulties  and 
troubles  of  life,  it  does  not  hinder  us  from 
feeling  ourselves  in  circumstances  of  trial  and 
imperfection.  "  We  are  troubled  on  every 
side,"  if  "  not  distressed ;  we  are  perplexed," 
if  "  not  in  despair ;  persecuted,"  if  "  not  for- 
saken ;  cast  down,"  if  "  not  destroyed." — To 
die  is  gain.  Death  ends  our  toil  and  our 
strife,  and  brings  us  the  rest  that  "  remains 
for  the  people  of  God."  Then  shadows  will 
be  exchanged  for  substance.  Then  we  shall 
embrace  our  enjoyments  without  fear  of  losing 
I  them.   Then  farewell  care  and  disappoint- 


124 


SERMON  XXIII. 


ment  Our  "sun  shall  no  more  go  down, 
nor"  our  "  moon  withdraw  her  shining ,  for 
God"  is  our  "  everlasting  light,  and  the  days 
of"  our  "mourning"  are  "ended. 


SERMON  XXIII. 


NEUTRALITY  IN  RELIGION  EX- 
POSED. 

JVo  man  can  serve  tivo  masters  :  for  either  he 
■will  hate  the  one,  and  love  the  other  ';  or  else 
he  -will  hold  to  the  one,  and  despise  the  other. 
Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon. — Matt, 
vi.  24. 

There  is  something  in  the  Scripture  suit- 
ed to  every  taste  except  a  sinful  one.  The 
Bible  indeed  is  so  pure — so  holy  in  its  Author, 
its  principles,  and  its  design,  that  it  is  the  ea- 
siest thing  in  the  world  to  account  for  infide- 
lity and  error — they  are  the  natural  opposi- 
tion of  men  of  corrupt  minds.  But  with  re- 
gard to  others,  every  peculiar  turn  of  mind 
may  be  indulged,  and  the  same  end  may  be 
secured  by  various  means.  Some  are  fond  of 
history — and  here  we  have  narrations,  plac- 
ing before  us  striking  characters  and  occur- 
rences. Some  love  a  series  of  proof  and  a 
process  of  argumentation — and  here  we  have 
frequent  specimens  of  close  reasoning.  Some 
take  pleasure  in  imagery  and  comparisons — 
and  here  we  have  a  plenitude  of  parables  and 
metaphors.  And  some  are  charmed  with  pro- 
verbs and  aphorisims — and  here  we  find  de- 
tached sentences,  which  by  their  brevity  are 
easily  remembered,  and  by  their  significancy 
furnish  materials  for  the  mind  to  unfold  and 
apply.  And  of  all  these,  perhaps  no  one  is 
more  important  and  interesting  than  the  pas- 
sage which  I  have  read.  "  No  man  can  serve 
two  masters:  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one, 
and  love  the  other ;  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the 
one,  and  despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve 
God  and  mammon." 

One  word  only  requires  explanation. — 
What  is  mammon?  It  is  commonly  supposed 
to  mean  only  riches  ;  but,  as  the  Bishop  of 
London  has  observed  in  his  Lecture  upon  this 
Chapter,  the  original  seems  more  extensive, 
and  leads  us  to  consider  it  as  comprehending 
every  thing  capable  of  engaging  the  affec- 
tions, and  of  gaining  the  confidence  of  men  of 
worldly  minds.  It  is  a  Syriac  word,  import- 
ing treasure,  gain — Whatever  therefore  is 
gain  to  you,  is  mammon — whether  it  be  wealth, 
or  power,  or  fame,  or  sensual  pleasure.  What- 
ever you  idolize,  whatever  you  place  in  the 
room  of  God,  whatever  leads  you  to  oppose 
his  nature  and  his  will  concerning  your  duty 
and  your  happiness,  according  to  the  design 
of  our  Saviour,  falls  under  this  denomination. 
Subtility  of  interpretation  is  always,  and  mi- 
nuteness of  decision  is  generally  to  be  avoided 
in  expounding  the  Scripture :  words  are  used  . 


,  in  a  popular  sense ;  and  they  would  become 
•  less  useful,  if  they  were  rendered  less  gene- 
i  ral.  The  force  of  an  impression  which  would 
otherwise  have  been  made,  has  often  been  di- 
minished by  means  of  those  exceptions,  quali- 
fications, restrictions,  distinctions,  which 
have  so  much  abounded  in  commentaries  and 
sermons,  and  through  which  the  spirit  of  the 
Sacred  Writings  is  suffered  to  evaporate. 
This  being  premised,  we  proceed  to  call  your 
serious  attention  to  three  things. 

I.  No  MAN  CAN  SERVE  TWO  MASTERS  ;  YOU 
CANNOT  SERVE  GoD   AND   MAMMON  This  is 

clearly  expressed. 

II.  ONE  OF  THESE  YOU  WILL  UNAVOIDABLY 

serve — This  is  fully  implied. 

III.  You  ought  to  serve  God — This  is 
fairly  inferred.  Consider  what  I  say;  and 
the  Lord  give  you  understanding  in  all  things. 
Amen. 

I.  "Write  the  vision  and  make  it  plain 
upon  tables,  that  he  may  run  that  readeth 
it."    This  order  the  inspired  penmen  have 
obeyed.    They  have  made  things  clear,  in 
proportion  as  they  are  momentous ;  and  such 
is  the  perspicuity  with  which  many  of  the 
principles  of  religion  are  laid  down  in  the 
Scripture,  that  we  should  deem  it  impossible 
for  them  ever  to  be  misunderstood — did  we 
not  know  how  easy  it  is  to  perplex  a  rule  by 
which  we  dislike  to  walk,  and  remember 
what  a  power  there  is  in  the  passions  to  per- 
vert the  dictates  of  the  understanding,  and  to 
baffle  the  admonitions  of  conscience.  For 
instance :  What  can  be  more  fully,  more  un- 
ambiguously expressed  than  the  determina- 
tion before  us  1  "  No  man  can  serve  two  mas- 
ters :  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one,  and  love 
the  other ;  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one, 
and  despise  the  other.    Ye  cannot  serve  God 
and  mammon."  Nevertheless  there  are  many 
who  contrive  to  elude  the  force  of  this  max- 
im, or  who  seem  resolved  to  make  a  succes- 
sion of  awful  experiments  to  try  the  certainty 
of  it.    The  number  of  this  mixed  temporizing 
race  of  Christians  is  constantly  increasing; 
and  while  they  are  bringing  destruction  upon 
their  own  souls,  they  are  injuring  the  cause 
of  the  Gospel,  and  counteracting  the  labours 
of  faithful  ministers  ten-fold  more  than  those 
who  make  no  pretensions  to  religion. — "  They 
have  a  name  to  live,  while  they  are  dead." 
They  wear  "the  form  of  godliness,"  while 
they  deny  "the  power  thereof."'  They  are 
equally  remote  from  the  excesses  of  the  pro- 
fane and  the  fervours  of  the  pious.    They  re- 
fuse to  the  passions  what  would  disturb  the 
conscience,  and  to  the  conscience  what  would 
disturb  the  passions.    Endeavouring  to  recon- 
cile an  earthly  and  a  heavenly  life  together, 
they  waver  between  truth  and  error,  convic- 
tion and  appetite,  duty  and  inclination ;  and 
divide  their  affections  and  services  between 
God  and  the  world.    Some  moments  they 
give  to  devotion :  they  pray,  they  unite  with 


SERMON  XXIII. 


125 


the  holy  assemblies,  they  sometimes  approach 
the  table  of  the  Lord — When  this  is  done, 
they  have  another  master  to  serve :  they  leave 
the  house  of  God,  and  occupy  places  of  dissipa- 
tion ;  they  relish  the  follies,  and  comply  with 
the  manners  of  a  sinful  age  ;  and  as  the  eye 
follows  their  career,  you  see  them  dropping 
one  distinction  after  another,  they  are  undis- 
tinguishingly  blended  with  the  crowd. 

Nor  are  these  persons  wanting  in  excuses 
to  palliate,  if  not  to  justify  their  practice. 
They  allege  that  it  renders  religion  less  ob- 
jectionable ;  that  it  keeps  up  an  intercourse 
which  renders  them  useful;  that — But  I  dis- 
dain to  enumerate  such  pleas  of  worldly- 
mindedness — they  will  not  abide  the  day  of 
trial — they  are  all  as  tow  before  the  flame — 
the  declaration  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  con- 
sumes them.  For  observe,  my  brethren,  up- 
on what  he  lays  the  stress  of  his  reasoning — 
it  is  the  impossibility  of  the  case.  He  does 
not  say,  You  shall  not,  You  must  not,  You 
ought  not — but  you  cannot.  "  No  man  can 
serve  two  masters — Ye  cannot  serve  God  and 
mammon." 

There  are,  however,  four  cases  in  which 
you  may  serve  two  masters ;  but  these  excep- 
tions will  only  render  the  general  rule  the, 
more  remarkable,  and  will  also  help  us  to  un- 
derstand it.  For,  first,  you  may  serve  two 
masters  successively.  There  are  some  who 
have  lived  in  various  families;  and  they  have 
served  the  gentle  and  the  froward,  the  evil 
and  the  good.  Christians  once  served  divers 
lusts  and  pleasures,  and  now  they  serve  God  ; 
but  they  did  not  serve  both  at  the  same  time 
— this  was  impracticable.  "  Being  then  made 
free  from  sin,  ye  became  the  servants  of  righ- 
teousness. For  when  ye  were  the  servants 
of  sin,  ye  were  free  from  righteousness." 
Secondly,  you  may  serve  two  masters,  by 
serving  one  of  them  in  reality,  and  the  other 
in  pretence.  But  while  you  truly  love  the 
world,  will  God  be  satisfied  with  appearances 
and  professions  1  Is  he  deceived  7  Can  any 
disguise  conceal  you  from  his  eye  1  Will  he 
not  abhor  you  the  more  for  your  hypocrisy  ? 
And  will  not  such  a  course  of  dissimulation 
be  a  life  of  meanness,  embarrassment,  and 
misery,  in  which  you  will  offer  violence  to 
nature,  and  perpetually  dread  the  detection  of 
your  real  character  1  Thirdly,  your  may  serve 
two  masters  unequally — While  devoted  to 
the  one,  you  may  occasionally  attend  the 
other :  but  you  cannot  be  engaged  to  him  al- 
so; you  cannot  serve  him'  constantly;  you 
cannot  make  his  service  your  business,  can- 
not be  entirely  at  his  disposal.  But  nothing 
less  than  this  does  God  require  of  all  those 
who  serve  Him.  Fourthly,  you  may  serve 
two  masters,  when  they  are  on  the  same  side, 
and  differ  only  in  degree.  Thus  you  obey 
parents  and  magistrates,  and  God  too ;  for,  in 
obeying  them,  you  obey  him — he  has  com- 
manded it.  But  it  is  otherwise,  when  two 
11* 


parties  hostile  to  each  other  require  you  to  es- 
pouse their  jarring  interests,  and  each  says, 
"  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart."    Now  this  is 
the  case  with  the  masters  here  mentioned. 
For  mammon  is  not  subordinate  to  God,  nor 
does  it  enjoin  the  same  things.    Their  orders 
are  diametrically  opposite.    The  one  com- 
mands you  to  walk  by  faith ;  the  other,  to  walk 
by  sight — the  one,  to  be  proud :  the  other,  to  be 
humble — the  one,  to  cleave  to  the  dust;  the 
other,  to  have  your  conversation  in  heaven — 
the  one  to  be  all  anxiety ;  the  other,  to  be  care- 
ful for  nothing — the  one,  to  be  content  with 
such  things  as  you  have ;  the  other,  to  enlarge 
your  desire  as  hell — the  one,  to  withhold  ;  the 
other,  to  give,  to  be  ready  to  distribute,  willing 
to  communicate.    Now  what  is  to  bedone  in  a 
case  like  this  1  If  the  mind  be  full,  it  can  hold 
no  more.    Human  faculties  are  not  infinite. 
The  operations  of  the  soul  are  limited.  We 
cannot  remain  in  a  state  of  equilibrium  be- 
tween contrary  attractions,  without  preferring 
one  to  the  other — Hence  we  always  take  a 
part ;  and  the  part  chosen  becomes  the  mas- 
ter of  the  heart,  and  obliges  us  to  separate 
from  the  rest  as  much  as  they  oppose  each 
other  or  interfere.    Here,   then,  my  dear 
hearers,  you  are  furnished  with  a  criterion  by 
which  to  judge  of  your  state  and  your  charac- 
ter.    The  conclusion  is  obvious  and  undeni- 
able— If  you  love  and  serve  the  world,  you 
cannot  love  and  serve  God.    And  the  exclu- 
sion is  serious  and  dreadful — for  you  are  here 
reminded  that  worldly  attachments,  depend- 
ences, and  pursuits,  are  not  only  injurious  to 
real  religion,  but  entirely  incompatible  with 
it — that  they  are  not  some  of  those  inferior 
mistakes  and  infirmities  which  we  deplore  in 
good  men;  but  a  deadly  evil  which  over- 
spreads all  the  powers  of  the  soul,  infects  all 
the  principles  of  action,  gives  the  whole  life 
a  wrong  bias,  the  whole  man  a  direction  to- 
wards hell.     "Wherefore  come  out  from 
among  them,  and  be  ye  separate,  saith  the 
Lord,  and  touch  not  the  unclean  thing ;  and  I 
will  receive  you."    "  Love  not  the  world, 
neither  the  things  of  the  world ;  for  if  any 
man  love  the  world,  the  love  of  the  Fa- 
ther is  not  in  him."    "Ye  adulterers  and 
adulteresses,  know  ye  not  that  the  friend- 
ship of  the  world  is  enmity  with  God  1  Who- 
soever, therefore,  will  be  a  friend  of  the  world 
is  the  enemy  of  God."    "  No  man  can  serve 
two  masters :  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one, 
and  love  the  other;  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the 
one,  and  despise  the  other.    Ye  cannot  serve 
God  and  mammon." 

II.  You  cannot  serve  both;  but  one  of  these 
you  will  unavoidably  serve.  The  second 
proposition  is  as  true  as  the  first — It  is  as  im- 
possible for  a  man  to  be  without  some  master, 
as  to  serve  more  masters  than  one.  Man  is 
an  active  being,  and  must  be  employed  ;  he 
will  always  be  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of 
something,  either  by  exertion  or  desire.  Man 


126 


SERMON  XXin. 


is  a  dependent  creature.  Like  the  vine,  he  | 
must  lean  for  support;  and  it*  the  elm  be  not  • 
near,  he  will  embrace  the  bramble.  He  ; 
thirsts;  and  if  he  has  forsaken  the  Fountain 
of  living  waters,  he  will  repair  to  broken  cis- 
terns, or  kneel  down  to  the  filthy  puddle.  A 
sense  of  his  wants  and  weaknesses  produces  an 
uneasiness,  which  urges  him  to  seek  after  as- 
sistance and  relief.  Hence,  man  cannot  be 
without  attachment.  Not  finding  in  himself 
the  good  he  desires,  he  passes  forth,  and  ad- 
heres to  something  external:  but  this  object 
necessarily  governs  him;  for  it  is  the  very 
nature  of  love  to  subject  us  to  that  which  we 
love :  and  it  fastens  us  by  various  ties ;  for  de- 
sire and  aversion,  hope  and  fear,  joy  and  sorrow, 
zeal  and  revenge,  are  only  modes  of  affection. 

There  is  nothing  of  which  men  are  so  te- 
nacious as  independence  and  liberty  ;  and 
even  when  they  are  destitute  of  the  substance, 
they  glory  in  the  shadow.  The  Jews  are  an 
example.  In  reply  to  our  Lord,  they  said, 
"  We  are  Abraham's  seed,  and  were  never  in 
bondage  to  any  man" — What !  Have  you  for- 
gotten the  land  of  Egypt?  Did  you  never 
serve  the  Philistines,  the  Moabites,  the  Am- 
monites ?  Were  you  not  seventy  years  in 
Babylon ! — Whose  soldiers  are  these  stationed 
among  you  ? — Bring  me  a  piece  of  money — 
"  whose  image  and  superscription  is  it  J"  Are 
you  not  even  now  wearing  the  yoke  of  Cffisar  ? 
— Yes ;  and  you  are  wearing  another  yoke 
far  more  disgraceful  than  even  this,  and 
which  enslaves  the  mind — for  "  he  that  com- 
mitteth  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin." 

And  does  not  this  exemplify  the  folly  and 
delusion  of  sinners !  They  imagine  them- 
selves to  be  their  own  masters,  especially 
when  they  have  shaken  olf  what  they  deem 
the  prejudices  of  education  and  the  scruples 
of  superstition.  Then  they  are  free  indeed ; 
they  live  without  control ;  and,  with  affected 
pity,  consider  Christians  as  subject  to  the 
most  humiliating  restraints.  But  what  if 
these  advocates  for  independence  should  be 
found  slaves  themselves,  and  all  their  boast- 
ings of  freedom  be  only  great  swelling  words 
of  vanity  ? — "  While  they  promise  them  li- 
berty, they  themselves  are  the  servants  of 
corruption ;  for  of  whom  a  man  is  overcome, 
of  the  same  is  he  brought  into  bondage." 
"Know  ye  not,  that  to  whom  ye  yield  your- 
selves servants  to  obey,  his  servants  ye  are  to 
whom  ye  obey  ;  whether  of  sin  unto  death,  or 
of  obedience  unto  righteousness  V  What !  is 
there  no  other  master  than  God?  Because 
you  refuse  allegiance  to  your  lawful  sove- 
reign, does  it  follow  that  you  are  your 
own?  May  there  not  be  usurpers?  Instead 
of  being  under  the  government  of  one,  may 
you  not  be  under  the  tyranny  of  many,  "  each 
seeking  his  gain  from  his  quarter?"  In- 
stead of  paying  a  regular  and  reasonable  tri- 
bute, may  you  not  become  the  victims  of  ille- 


gal exaction,  and  the  tools  of  arbitrary  power  1 
— Hear  what  Shemaiah  said  to  Rehoboam 
and  the  princes  of  Judah — "  Ye  have  forsaken 
the  Lord;  therefore  have  I  left  you  in  the 
hand  of  Shishak  king  of  Egypt:  and  they 
shall  be  his  servants;  that  they  may  know 
my  service,  and  the  service  of  the  kingdoms 
of  the  countries."    To  the  same  purpose  is 
the  language  of  God  by  Moses  to  the  Israel- 
ites :  "  Because  thou  servedst  not  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  joyfulness,  and  with  gladness 
of  heart,  for  the  abundance  of  all  things ; 
therefore  shalt  thou  serve  thine  enemies, 
which  the  Lord  shall  send  against  thee,  in 
hunger,  and  in  thirst,  and  in  nakedness,  and 
in  want  of  all  things;  and  he  shall  put  a  yoke 
of  iron  upon  thy  neck  until  he  have  destroy- 
ed thee."    All  this  is  fulfilled  in  the  unhap- 
py experience  of  every  transgressor.  For  his 
rebellion  he  is  doomed,  by  a  law  of  inevitable 
necessity,  to  serve  divers  tyrants.    Yes:  if 
you  are  not  the  subjects  of  humility,  you  will 
be  the  vassals  of  pride  ;  and  what  a  lite  will 
ambition  lead  you !  If  you  are  not  the  ser- 
vants of  meekness,  you  will  be  the  slaves 
of  passion;  and  is  the  man  to  be  envied,  who 
is  governed  by  the  impulses  of  such  a  fury ! 
§ee  a  man  who  has  sold  himself  to  covetous- 
ness ;  what  African  slave  ever  drudged  for 
such  a  task-master  as  he — compelling  him  to 
rise  early,  to  sit  up  late,  to  eat  the  bread  of 
sorrows,  to  assume  every  form  of  falsehood, 
to  stoop  to  every  instance  of  meanness,  forbid- 
ding him  the  luxury  of  refreshing  the  bowels 
of  the  poor  and  of  blessing  the  orphan  and  the 
widow,  often  denying  him  the  accommoda- 
tions and  sometimes  the  necessaries  of  life, 
and — thus  forcing  him  to  live  in  beggary  to 
to  die  in  wealth  !  Disclaiming  the  service  of 
God,  you  serve  the  Devil,  who  employs  you 
in  drudgery,  and  rewards  you  with  damnation 
— "  for  the  wages  of  sin  is  death."  Discard- 
ing the  Saviour's  yoke,  which  is  easy,  and 
his  burden,  which  is  light ;,  you  wear  the 
galling  and  heavy  chains  of  vice — and  what 
slavery  equals  a  wicked  life?  See  the  sinner 
impelled  along  violently,  like  the  swine  pos- 
sessed with  demons — He  follows  a  course 
which  he  condemns  himself  for  pursuing — he 
does  things,  of  which,  at  the  very  time,  he 
knows  he  shall  repent  as  soon  as  he  has  done 
them — actions,  which  he  abhors  in-others,  he 
is  forced  to  perform  himself — when  he  goes 
forth,  he  cannot  tell  how  he  shall  return  ;  for 
this  does  not  depend  upon  him,  but  upon  cir- 
cumstances over  which  he  has  no  power — he 
may  see  or  hear  something,  by  which  im- 
pressions may  be  produced  which  he  cannot 
resist — he  may  accidentally  meet  with  one  of 
his  tyrants,  who  may  say  to  him,  "  Do  this," 
and  he  must  do  it — his  passions  and  his  lusts 
make  him  toil  at  their  pleasure — and  he  goes 

•  on  executing  their  orders,  though  his  under- 

•  standing  blushes,  reason  remonstrates,  con- 


SERMON  XXIH. 


127 


science  upbraids  and  threatens — lie  sees  and 
he  approves  better  things,  and  follows  worse 
— and  this  is  the  man  who  pretends  to  be  tree  ! 

You  say,  Religion  demands  of  us  a  succes- 
sion of  services,  from  which  you  are  exempt- 
ed. But,  O  ye  votaries  of  the  world,  let  us 
examine  your  claims,  and  see  wherein  your 
pre-eminence  appears. — Have  you  then  no 
services  to  render !  Think  of  your  privations 
and  sacrifices  and  submissions — think  of  the 
numerous  and  arbitrary  laws  you  have  to 
obey — the  laws  of  opinion,  the  laws  of  cus- 
tom, the  laws  of  extravagance,  the  laws  of 
folly.  Yes;  I  sometimes  think,  if  religion 
were  to  require  of  me  such  duties  as  the 
world  imposes  upon  its  enslaved  followers — if 
it  required  me  to  turn  day  into  night,  and  de- 
prived me  of  seasonable  repose — if  it  requir- 
ed me  to  embrace  indecent  and  injurious  fa- 
shions and  to  expose  at  once  my  modesty  and 
my  health — if  it  required  me  to  adopt  expen- 
sive modes  of  life  which  devoured  my  sub- 
stance, and  involved  me  in  pecuniary  disgrace 
— if  it  required  me  to  spend  my  evenings 
from  home,  and  to  resign  domestic  enjoyments 
to  rove  from  one  insipid  amusement  to  ano- 
ther— if  it  required  me  to  give  up  all  that  is 
easy  and  simple  and  natural,  for  ceremonies, 
visits,  and  crowds,  where  all  is  artificial, 
studied,  and  forced — if  it  required  me  to  con- 
vert my  dwelling  into  the  confusion  and  dis- 
order of  a  rout ;  to  stoop  to  the  absurdity  of 
a  masquerade ;  to  hazard  my  own  life  and  the 
life  of  my  fellow  creature,  because  I  had  re- 
ceived an  offence,  perhaps  unintentionally 
given,  and  allowed  me  not  the  choice  of  refu- 
sal— Then  I  should  conceive  a  disgust ;  then 
I  should  long  to  emancipate  myself  from  such 
capricious  despotism :  I  should  sigh  for  liberty 
— for  what  liberty  could  I  enjoy  while  com- 
pelled to  submit  to  what  is  unreasonable  and 
foolish,  to  what  is  dishonourable  and  shameful, 
to  what  is  injurious  and  ruinous  !  But  remem- 
ber, ye  followers  of  the  vain  world,  these  are 
the  commands  you  obey — these  are  the  ser- 
vices you  render. 

Still  you  tell  us — that  our  Master  requires 
U3  even  to  deny  ourselves ;  that  this  is  the 
grand  law  of  his  kingdom  ;  and  without  obey- 
ing it,  we  cannot  be  his  disciples.  But  we 
contend  that  you  are  precisely  in  the  same 
circumstances:  we  can  prove  that  you  also 
are  required  to  exercise  self-denial ;  and  that 
this  is  the  chief  command  you  have  to  comply 
with  in  the  service  of  the  world.  And  mark 
the  difference  between  us.  Our  Master  re- 
quires us  to  deny  only  what  is  false  and  vain — 
yours,  what  is  solid  and  true.  Ours  requires 
us  to  deny  what  would  only  make  us  disor- 
derly and  miserable — yours,  what  would  ren- 
der you  peaceful  and  happy.  Ours  requires 
us  only  todeny  the  voice  of  passion  and  appe- 
tite— yours,  the  voice  of  reason  and  of  con- 
science. Ours  requires  us  to  deny  the  body 
for  the  sake  of  the  soul — yours,  the  soul  for 


the  sake  of  the  body.  Ours  requires  us  to  give 
up  nothing  but  what  ho  will  more  than  repay 
— yours,  to  surrender  an  interest,  for  the  loss 
of  which  you  cannot  be  indemnified  in  time  or 
eternity. 

Since  then  it  appears — that  you  cannot 
serve  two  masters — and  since  it  is  equally 
certain  that  you  will  serve  one — we  plead  for 
God,  and  call  upon  you  to  serve  Him.  It  is  the 

III. — Third  division  of  our  subject.  Here 
I  feel  ready  to  draw  back  from  my  engage- 
ment :  I  am  shocked  to  think  that  it  should 
be  found  necessary  to  make  a  comparison  be- 
tween the  ever-blessed  God  and  idols.  Has 
the  depravity  of  the  world  risen  to  such  a 
pitch,  and  are  men  so  exceedingly  blinded  and 
infatuated,  as  to  require  a  preacher  to  attempt 
to  prove  that  it  is  better  to  serve  God  than 
mammon ! — I  feel  also  perplexed  as  to  the 
proofs  I  shall  adduce  ;  the  case  seems  too  plain 
to  need  evidence:  and  of  evidence  there  is  no 
end.  Let  us  make  a  selection  of  two  articles, 
and 

Remind  you,  first,  of  his  various  and  un- 
deniable claims  in  which  he  stands  peculiar 
and  supreme.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  jus- 
tice ;  and  it  consists  in  rendering  to  all  their 
due.  Render  to  God  his  due — be  only  just — 
and  you  must  be  religious.  All  you  are  and 
all  you  have  is  his :  he  gave  you  existence  ; 
and  all  your  capacities  of  action  and  of  enjoy- 
ment were  not  only  derived  from  him,  but 
are  continued  by  him;  "for  in  him  we  live 
and  move  and  have  our  being."  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  gratitude ;  and  it  consists  in 
endeavouring  to  make  suitable  returns  for 
favours  received.  Endeavour  to  make  suit- 
able returns  to  God  for  the  favours  you  have 
received  from  him— be  only  grateful,  and  you 
must  be  religious.  Whose  sun  warms  you  ! 
Whose  air  do  you  breathe?  Who  has  fed  you 
all  your  life  long  unto  this  day  ?  When  you 
were  lost,  who  sent  his  own  Son  to  seek  and 
to  save  you  ?  When  you  were  in  the  bondage 
of  corruption,  who,  by  a  price  of  infinite  value, 
accomplished  your  release]  Let  all  your 
mercies  be  summoned  to  appear  around  you — 
the  blessings  of  infancy,  of  youth,  of  mature 
age ;  the  blessings  of  Providence  and  of  Grace; 
the  blessings  which  you  possess  already,  and 
those  which,  as  attainable,  you  hope  to  enjoy 
— and  your  Preacher  has  only  to  come  forward 
and  say,  "  I  beseech  you  therefore,  brethren, 
by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  you  present  your 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable, 
which  is  your  reasonable  service."  So  sim- 
ple are  the  principles  from  which  the  prao 
tice  of  religion  is  deduced! 

Secondly,  we  would  remind  you  of  his  de- 
signs IN  EMPLOYING  YOU  IN  HIS  SERVICE.  In 

these  also,  who  is  a  God  like  unto  him  1  Why 
does  he  require  you  to  serve  him?  "Can  a 
man  be  profitable  unto  God,  as  he  that  is  wise 
may  be  profitable  unto  himself  !  Is  it  any 
pleasure  to  the  Almighty  thatthou  art  righ- 


128 


SERMON  XXIII. 


teous;  or  gain  to  the  Most  High  that  thou 
makest  thy  way  perfect  !"  He  does  not  stand 
in  need  of  you — hut  he  knows  that  you  stand 
in  need  of  him,  and  that  without  him  you  can 
do  nothing1.  Does  he  require  your  service,  to 
display  his  grandeur,  to  exercise  his  authority, 
to  establish  his  dominion  !  Hear  his  own  lan- 
guage :  "  O  that  there  was  such  a  heart  in 
them,  that  they  would  fear  me,  and  keep  all  my 
commandments  always — that  it  might  be 

WELL  WITH  THEM  AND  WITH  THEIR  CHILDREN 

forever."  Heemploysyou,  to  invigorate  your 
powers,  to  dignity  your  nature,  to  train  you 
up  for  endless  perfection,  and  to  bestow  upon 
you  innumerable  advantages  under  the  no- 
tion of  a  reward.  These  advantages  may  be 
considered  two  ways.  In  the  engagements 
of  the  master,  and  in  the  experience  of  the 
servants.  These  do  not  always  agree.  Men, 
as  an  allurement,  frequently  promise  what 
they  never  perform ;  and  those  who  have  fol- 
lowed them  have  had  bitter  reason  to  com- 
plain of  disappointment.  But  God  is  faithful ; 
and  as  his  promises  are  exceeding  great  and 
precious,  so  are  they  all  yea  and  amen  in 
Christ  Jesus  to  the  glory  of"  God  by  us.  He 
spreads  before  us  in  his  word  every  attraction 
to  encourage  us.  "  Therefore  thus  saith  the 
Lord  God,  Behold,  my  servants  shall  eat;  but 
ye  shall  be  hungry :  behold,  my  servants 
shall  drink;  but  ye  shall  be  thirsty:  behold, 
my  servants  shall  rejoice;  but  ye  shall  be 
ashamed :  behold,  my  servants  shall  sing  for 
joy  of  heart ;  but  ye  shall  cry  for  sorrow  of 
heart,  and  shall  howl  for  vexation  of  spirit." 
And  has  he  not  realized  all  this  ?  Let  us  con- 
sult the  experience  of  those  who  have  served 
him.  And  observe  the  fairness  of  the  exam- 
ples to  which  we  a  ppeal.  Some  of  you  would 
be  unqualified  judges ;  you  could  not  make  a 
proper  comparison,  because  you  are  only  ac- 
quainted with  one  of  the  things  to  be  compar- 
ed. You  know  what  the  service  of  sin  is; 
but  you  are  strangers  to  the  service  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  But  there  are  persons 
who  have  tried  both :  after  serving  the  world, 
they  have  served  God.  And  if  it  were  for- 
merly better  with  them  than  now,  what  keeps 
them  from  going  back !  What  detains  them 
from  the  country  whence  they  came  out? 
They  have  opportunity  to  return;  and  are 
surrounded  with  the  same  temptations  as 
others.  They  have  found  something  more 
divine  and  satisfactory :  they  have  tasted  of 
the  grapes  of  Eshcol,  and  they  no  longer  sigh 
for  the  leeks  and  onions  of  Egypt.  He  is 
rising  from  his  knees,  where  he  has  been  say- 
ing, "  Thou  hast  dealt  well  with  thy  servant, 
O  Lord."  Take  him  aside,  and  converse 
with  him.  He  is  able  to  give  a  reason  of  the 
hope  that  is  in  him.  Why  you  often  mourn. 
"  But  our  sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy :  our 
very  tears  are  blessed;  and  we  are  never 
more  happy  than  when  we  can  feel  a  broken 
heart  and  a  contrite  spirit !" — And  the  world 


frowns  upon  you.  "  But  God  smiles ;  and  his 
favour  is  life.  Heaven  is  my  home :  death  is 
become  my  friend :  Providence  manages  all 
my  affairs;  and  I  am  careful  for  nothing." — 
And  your  happiness  is  all  future.  "No — I 
have  earnests  and  foretastes  of  Heaven.  1 
feel  a  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding; 
and  sometimes  I  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.  In  his  sanctuary  I  behold 
his  power  and  his  glory.  In  my  closet  I  find 
it  good  to  draw  near  to  God.  His  statutes 
are  my  song  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrimage ; 
and  I  rejoice  in  his  word  as  one  that  findeth 
great  spoil. — Once  I  thought  like  you.  1 
supposed,  if  I  began  a  religious  course,  I 
should  never  have  another  happy  day — but  I 
never  had  a  happy  day  before.  I  have  found 
nothing  of  the  fetters  and  bondage  of  which  I 
had  heard,  and  by  which  I  had  been  disgusted. 
His  service  has  been  perfect  freedom ;  and 
none  of  his  commands  are  grievous.  And 
oh !  could  I  now  lay  open  my  soul ;  could  I 

make  you  see  as  I  see,  and  feel  as  I  feel !  

O  taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good ;  bless- 
ed is  the  man  that  trusteth  in  him."  All  this 
shews  the  importance  of  serving  God.  But 
whatever  shews  the  importance  of  it,  shews 
the  wisdom  of  attending  to  it. 

Let  me  then,  my  dear  hearers,  call  upon 
you  to  make  a  choice.  From  this  hour 
abandon  God  and  his  ways,  and  following 
your  idols  and  your  lusts,  have  all  that  they 
can  give  you — or,  relinquishing  the  present 
evil  world,  take  God  for  the  strength  of  your 
soul,  and  your  portion  for  ever.  Which  of 
these  will  you  choose! — I  cannot  conclude 
without  pressing  you  to  a  decision.  I  have  al- 
ready been  classing  you.  My  hope  has  form- 
ed one  division  ;  my  fear,  a  second;  my  con- 
viction, a  third. 

I  have  been  hoping  that  some  of  you  will 
retire  this  evening,  and  join  yourselves  to  the 
Lord  in  a  perpetual  covenant  that  shall  not 
be  forgotten ;  saying,  "  Lord,  I  am  thine,  save 
me.  O  Lord,  other  lords  beside  thee  have 
had  dominion  over  us,  but  by  thee  only  will  we 
make  mention  of  thy  name."  Will  none  of 
you  realize  this  pleasing  expectation?  Will 
none  among  you,  my  younger  hearers,  verify, 
the  language  of  prophecy,  upon  which  so 
many  ministers,  so  many  parents  have  hoped? 
"  One  shall  say,  I  am  the  Lord's ;  and  ano- 
ther shall  call  himself  by  the  name  of  Jacob  ; 
and  another  shall  subscribe  with  his  hand  unto 
the  Lord,  and  surname  himself  by  the  name 
of  Israel." 

— A  larger  number,  I  fear,  will  care  for 
none  of  these  things ;  but  go  forth,  saying, 
with  their  rebellious  predecessors,  "I  have 
loved  strangers,  and  after  them  will  I  go." 
Let  me  give  you  warning  from  God.  Re- 
member, that  he  will  assuredly  vindicate  the 
cause  of  his  despised  authority  and  goodness  : 
"  As  for  these  mine  enemies  that  would  not 
that  I  should  reign  over  them,  bring  them 


SERMON  XXIV. 


129 


forth,  and  slay  them  before  my  face."  If  you 
are  determined  to  abandon  God,  God  is  deter- 
mined to  abandon  you :  "  But  my  people 
would  not  hearken  to  my  voice ;  and  Israel 
would  none  of  me :  so  I  gave  them  up  unto 
their  own  hearts'  lust,  and  they  walked  in 
their  own  counsels."  And  have  you  consi- 
dered the  awfulness  of  your  condition — "  with- 
out God  in  the  world  !"  Death  will  soon 
snatch  you  away  from  your  houses  and  amuse- 
ments ;  and  what  will  you  do,  if  your  faith 
and  hope  be  not  in  God — when  you  will  have 
nothing-  but  God  left !  And,  even  previous  to 
this,  an  evil  day  may  arrive.  Though  world- 
ly things  do  not  satisfy  the  mind,  they  divert 
it ;  and  though  they  are  a  poor  substitute  for 
God,  they  render  you  less  sensible  of  your 
need  of  him.  But  they  are  all  uncertain :  and 
what  becomes  of  you  when  they  are  removed? 
To  whom  will  you  flee  for  help,  and  where 
will  you  leave  your  glory  ? 

But  an  observation  of  the  way  in  which  di- 
vine admonition  is  commonly  rendered  use- 
less convinces  me,  that  the  generality  of  you 
will  not  decide  with  the  former,  nor  positively 
refuse  with  the  latter.  "  And  as  he  reasoned 
of  righteousness,  temperance,  and  judgment 
to  come,  Felix  trembled,  and  answered,  Go 
thy  way  for  this  time;  when  I  have  a  conve- 
nient season,  I  will  call  for  thee."  This  is 
your  model. — You  wish  to  pause  and  consider. 
But  we  cannot  allow  this  evasion;  our  com- 
mission requires  an  immediate  reply:  "To- 
day, if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your 
heart :  now  is  the  accepted  time,  now  is  the 
day  of  salvation." — You  wish  to  pause  and 
consider.  But  you  have  no  time  for  hesita- 
tion; you  are  dying  while  you  make  the  pro- 
posal :  "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow,  for 
thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth." — You  wish  to  pause  and  consider. 
But  he  may  take  your  excuses  for  a  final  an- 
swer, as  they  are  unquestionably  a  proof  of 
present  disinclination,  and  say,  "  None  of  the 
men  that  were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my  sup- 
per." "  He  is  joined  to  idols;  let  him  alone." 
— You  wish  to  pause  and  consider.  But  the 
longer  you  waver,  the  harder  you  will  find  it 
to  decide;  objections  and  difficulties  will  every 
day  multiply. — You  wish  to  pause  and  consi- 
der— but  when  do  you  mean  to  determine  ? 
I  low  much  longer  time  do  you  require  1  Some 
of  you  have  had  twenty,  forty,  sixty  years,  to 
weigh  things  already/and  are  still  undeter- 
mined. And  what  is  it  to  decide,  that  you 
cannot  com°  to  a  conclusion  this  hour,  this 
moment !  What  room  is  there  for  comparison  ? 
what  possibility  is  there  of  embarrassment  1 
O  shame  of  human  nature  !  Here  are  persons 
requiring  additional  years  to  determine — whe- 
ther hell  or  heaven  is  the  best  portion  ;  whe- 
ther the  God  of  glory,  or  the  god  of  this 
world,  is  the  best  master.  "  How  long  halt 
ye  between  two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord  be  God, 
follow  him  :  but  if  Baal  be  God,  follow  him." 
R 


"  Wherefore  choose  ye  this  day  whom  ye  will 
serve" — "  But  as  for  me  and  my  house,  we 
will  serve  the  Lord."  May  God  inspire  us 
with  this  resolution.  Amen. 


SERMON  XXIV. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  OUR  LORD. 

An  d  he  stretched  forth  his  hand  toward  his  dis- 
ciples, and  said,  Behold  my  mother  and  my 
brethren  !  For  -whosoever  shall  do  the  -will 
of  my  Father  -which  is  in  heaven,  the  same 
is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mother. — Matt, 
xii.  49,  50. 

I  address  this  assembly  in  the  language  of 
our  Saviour  to  the  Pharisees — "  What  think 
ye  of  Christ  V  And  surely  a  more  serious 
inquiry  it  is  impossible  to  make.  Your  opi- 
nions upon  various  other  subjects  are  compa- 
ratively of  little  consequence — But  it  is  of  the 
highest  importance  to  entertain  proper  appre- 
hensions of  the  person  and  character,  the  of- 
fices and  work  of  Christ. 

There  is,  however,  another  question  which 
it  is  equally  necessary  to  ask — What  does 
Christ  think  of  you  !  What  you  are  in  the 
sentiment  of  your  fellow-creatures  signifies 
little.  It  is  a  light  thing  to  be  judged  of 
man's  judgment.  Your  happiness  does  not 
depend  upon  him :  he  may  be  deceived  in  his 
conclusion — He  that  judgeth  you  is  the  Lord : 
his  decision  is  infallible,  and  his  sentence  re- 
gulates your  doom.  Does  He  view  you  this 
evening  as  enemies  or  friends  !  As  strangers 
or  relations? — Is  it  possible  to  determine 
this !  It  is  not  only  possible,  but  easy.  Ob- 
serve what  he  did,  and  remember  what  he 
said,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh.  "  And  he 
stretched  forth  his  hand  toward  his  disciples, 
and  said,  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  ! 
For  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father 
which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother, 
and  sister,  and  mother." 

Our  Saviour  preached  in  various  places. 
He  was  now  in  a  private  house — and  is  said 
to  be  "  talking  to  the  people."  It  marks  the 
ease,  the  simplicity,  the  familiarity  with 
which  he  spake.  When  a  preacher  can  ex- 
emplify this  mode  of  address,  without  sink- 
ing, he  is  peculiarly  pleasing  to  his  hearers, 
and  often  most  successful  in  the  force  and 
sublimity  of  his  thoughts.  "While  he  yet 
talked  to  the  people,  behold,  his  mother  and 
his  brethren  stood  without,  desiring  to  speak 
with  him." — What  was  the  design  of  his 
friends  it  is  impossible  to  determine.  But 
they  had  something  interesting  to  communi- 
cate, and  could  not  approach  him  for  the  in- 
tervening, multitude.  The  people  therefore 
conveyed  along  the  notice  of  his  relations  from 
one  to  another  till  it  reached  the  person  who 
stood  by  him — "Then  one  said  unto  him,  Be- 


130 


SERMON  XXIV. 


hold,  thy  mother  and  brethren  stand  without, 
desiring  to  speak  with  thee."  Our  blessed 
Lord  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men  ;  but 
there  were  some  who  knew  his  worth,  and  lov- 
ed and  honoured  him — and  at  hearing  of  his 
mother  and  his  brethren,  they  were  ready  to 
exclaim,  O  happy  brethren !  to  have  such  a 
brother!  O  happy  mother!  to  have  such  a 
son ! — Our  Saviour  was  not  so  confined  to  his 
subject  as  to  refuse  a  new  idea  suggested 
by  the  occasion ;  therefore,  knowing  their 
thoughts,  he  tells  them  of  another  connection 
with  himself:  from  his  family  according  to 
the  flesh,  he  leads  them  to  his  spiritual  kin- 
dred ;  and  from  a  union  with  him,  which  was 
temporal,  and  confined  to  few,  he  leads  them 
to  one  which  was  everlasting,  and  embraced 
all  good  men.  "  But  he  answered  and  said 
unto  him  that  told  him,  Who  is  my  mother? 
and  who  are  my  brethren  1 — And  he  stretch- 
ed FORTH  HIS  HAND  TOWARD  HIS  DISCIPLES, 
AND  SAID,  BEHOLD  MY  MOTHER  AND  MY  BRE- 
THREN !  FOR  WHOSOEVER  SHALL  DO  THE  WILL 
OF  MY  FATHER  WHICH  IS  IN  HEAVEN,  THE 
SAME  IS  MY  BROTHER,  AND  SISTER,  AND  MO- 
THER." 

Whence  we  observe,  that  obedience  to 

THE  DIVINE  WILL  IS  AN  EVIDENCE  OF  OUR  BE- 
ING related  to  Jesus  Christ.  Our  Lord 
here  gives  us  the  character  and  the  privilege 
of  his  disciples. 

I.  Their  Character — they  do  the  will  of 
his  Father. 

II.  Their  Privilege — they  are  his  brother, 
his  sister,  his  mother.  "  Remember  me,  O 
Lord,  with  the  favour  that  thou  bearest  unto 
thy  people:  O  visit  me  with  thy  salvation ; 
that  I  may  see  the  good  of  thy  chosen,  that  I 
may  rejoice  in  the  gladness  of  thy  nation,  that 
I  may  glory  with  thine  inheritance." 

I.  We  have  the  Character  of  his  disciples. 
He  describes  them  as  doing  the  will  of  his 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  All  obey — 
But  some  do  the  will  of  the  devil ;  some  do 
the  will  of  man;  some  do  their  own  will; 
and  some  do  the  will  of  God. 

— Some  do  the  will  of  the  devil.  This  is  a 
dreadful  charge ;  but  it  is  fully  supported  by 
the  address  of  our  Saviour  to  the  Jews — "Ye 
are  of  your  father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of 
your  father  ye  will  do."  And  what  is  all  sin, 
but  "  the  work  of  the  devil  1"  "  For  the  devil 
sinneth  from  the  beginning."  He,  therefore, 
who  lives  in  the  practice  of  sin,  co-operates 
with  him,  resembles  him,  strives  to  please 
him,  fulfils  his  wishes.  The  devil  loves  pride, 
and  the  sinner  cherishes  it ;  he  takes  pleasure 
in  revenge,  and  the  sinner  indulges  it ;  his 
empire  is  maintained  by  iniquity,  and  the  sin- 
ner commits  it. 

— Some  do  the  will  of  men.  They  are  en- 
tirely governed  by  others ;  they  receive  the 
law  from  the  opinions,  maxims,  and  manners 
of  their  companions,  superiors,  relations ;  from 
the  conversation  received  by  tradition  from 


their  fathers ;  from  the  example  of  the  mul- 
titude. And  by  no  better  authorities  than 
these  are  many  influenced,  even  in  the  con- 
cerns of  religion!  But  "we  ought  to  obey 
God  rather  than  men;"  and  "  to  live  the  rest 
of  our  time  in  the  flesh,  not  to  the  lusts  of 
men,  but  to  the  will  of  God." 

— Some  do  their  own  will.  They  are  as 
regardless  of  the  authority  of  God,  as  if  they 
were  persuaded  that  his  being  and  perfec- 
tions were  a  fable :  they  live  without  him  in 
the  world ;  never  asking,  when  they  engage 
in  any  course  of  action,  whether  it  will  please 
or  offend  him,  whether  he  has  forbidden  or 
enjoined  it!  They  follow  only  the  bias  of 
their  own  inclination ;  and  this  being,  since 
the  Fall,  depraved  and  irregular,  carries  them 
widely  astray  from  their  duty  and  happiness. 
For  it  is  as  dangerous  as  it  is  criminal  to  obey 
such  a  guide.  Hence  to  be  abandoned  to  its 
influence  is  spoken  of  as  the  greatest  curse 
— "  So  I  gave  them  up  unto  their  own  hearts' 
lust :  and  they  walked  in  their  own  counsels." 
It  has  been  said  of  children,  that  they  are  un- 
done if  they  have  their  own  will ;  and  the 
reason  is,  because  they  are  not  wise  enough  to 
choose  the  good,  and  refuse  the  evil.  But 
this  is  much  more  true  of  man :  if  he  has  his 
own  will,  he  will  be  sure  to  ruin  himself ;  for 
a  sinner  is  much  more  likely  to  make  a  fool- 
ish choice  than  a  child ;  and  he  who  wants 
grace,  has  less  understanding  than  he  who 
wants  years. 

But  the  Christian  makes  the  will  of  God 
the  grand,  the  only  rule  of  his  life ;  and  every 
consideration  induces  him  to  say,  "Not  my 
will,  but  thine  be  done."  His  authority  over 
us  is  supreme,  and  his  relations  to  us  are  nu- 
merous. He  is  our  Father,  and  we  owe  him 
honour ;  our  Master,  and  we  owe  him  fear ; 
our  Benefactor,  and  we  owe  him  gratitude ; 
our  God,  and  we  owe  him  obedience,  devotion 
— all  we  are,  and  all  we  have !  Nor  does  our 
obligation  spring  only  from  his  dominion  over 
us,  and  his  claims  to  us,  but  from  the  very  na- 
ture of  his  will,  which  is  wise,  and  righteous, 
and  good. 

That  we  may  not  be  ignorant  of  his  will,  he 
has  been  pleased  to  reveal  it.  This  revela- 
tion is  contained  in  the  Scriptures  of  Truth. 
Opening  these,  we  find  all  needful  informa- 
tion :  they  are  a  lamp  unto  our  feet,  and  a 
light  unto  our  paths.  They  contain  general 
principles  and  particular  rules.  There  are  de- 
scribed the  duties  we  owe  to  ourselves,  to  our 
fellow  creatures,  and  to  God:  the  duties 
which  spring  from  the  various  connections 
and  conditions  of  life;  the  duties  of  kings 
and  of  servants ;  the  duties  of  prosperity  and 
of  adversity.  Viewing  us  as  sinners,  they  shew 
unto  us  the  way  of  salvation,  and  preach  re- 
pentance towards  God  and  faith  towards  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

The  man  therefore  that  would  do  the  will 
of  God  walks  by  this  rule.    He  repairs  to  the 


SERMON  XXIV. 


131 


Scripture — not  for  advice,  but  law.  He  en- 
ters the  sanctuary  of  revelation,  and  bowing 
before  the  lively  oracles  of  God,  he  cries, 
"Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do!" 
"  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth."  For 
you  will  observe  that  his  concern  with  the 
will  of  God  lies  not  in  knowing-,  but  in  do- 
ing it.  And  indeed  if  this  be  not  in  our  de- 
sire and  design,  when  we  search  for  the  will 
of  God,  we  are  not  likely  to  be  honest  in  our 
investigations,  or  successful  in  our  attempts. 
For  "  he  that  doth  his  will,  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine  whether  it  be  of  God;  and  we  shall 
know,  if  we  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord." — 
But  allowing  it  to  be  possihle  to  obtain  the 
clearest  knowledge,  unaccompanied  with  obe- 
dience, it  would  be  useless — for  "  if  ye  know 
these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them" — 
yea,  it  would  be  even  injurious,  by  enhancing 
our  sin  and  aggravating  our  condemnation — 
for  "  to  him  that  knoweth  to  do  good  and  doth 
it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin."  "  And  that  servant 
which  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and  prepared 
not  himself,  neither  did  according  to  his  will, 
shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes.  For  unto 
whomsoever  much  is  given,  of  him  shall  much 
be  required ;  and  to  whom  men  have  commit- 
ted much,  of  him  will  they  ask  the  more." 

To  be  a  Christian  then,  you  must  act,  and  live 
— and  act  and  live  as  God  would  have  you : 
you  must  do  the  will  of  our  Father  which  is 
in  heaven.  By  two  things  you  may  know 
whether  your  obedience  be  such  as  will  class 
you  in  the  number  of  our  Lord's  disciples. 
For,  first,  their  obedience  is  affectionate, 
arising  from  a  desire  to  please  and  glorify 
God.  Hence  the  declaration  of  our  Saviour, 
"  I  call  you  not  servants,  but  friends."  This 
was  not  to  release  them  from  an  obligation  to 
obedience,  but  to  purify  and  elevate  the  prin- 
ciple of  it.  And  his  own  language  is,  in  a 
subordinate  degree,  the  experience  of  all  his 
followers — "  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  O  God ; 
yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart:"  "  My  meat 
is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to 
finish  his  work."  This  is  every  thing,  in  the 
view  of  God.  He  would  have  us,  in  his  ser- 
vice, to  be  liberal  and  generous :  he  upholds 
us  by  "  his  free  Spirit."  He  values  not  the 
forced  submission  of  the  slave  :  he  disdains 
those  actions,  in  the  performance  of  which 
the  will  revolts  against  the  obligation.  His 
demand  is,  "  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart :" 
and  when  this  is  given,  nothing  else  can  he 
withhold :  then  the  eyes  are  open  to  see,  the 
ears  to  hear,  the  lips  to  praise,  the  hands  to 
communicate;  and  the  man  "presents  his  bo- 
dy a  living  sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable  to 
God,  which  is  his  reasonable  service." 

For,  secondly,  their  obedience  is  impartial. 
I  speak  here  of  their  aim  and  their  disposi- 
tion. With  regard  to  these,  they  have  no  re- 
serve, no  objections,  no  exceptions.  Their 
concern  extends  to  every  thing,  whether 
great  or  little,  whether  easy  or  difficult,  whe- 


ther pleasing  or  repulsive :  they  esteem  all 
his  commandments  concerning  all  things  to 
be  right,  and  they  hate  every  false  way.  The 
necessity  of  this  will  readily  appear.    "  For 
whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet 
offend  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all."  The 
reasoning  by  which  this  is  established  is  solid : 
for  if  a  man  voluntarily  transgress  one  of  the 
commands  of  God,  why  does  he  observe  the 
rest? — Not  from  a  principle  of  obedience; 
for  this  would  lead  him  to  observe  the  com- 
mand he  transgresses,  as  well  as  those  he  ob- 
serves— seeing  they  issue  from  the  same  au- 
thority, and  are  enforced  by  the  same  motives : 
"  for  he  that  said,  Do  not  commit  adultery, 
said  also,  Do  not  kill :  now  if  thou  commit 
no  adultery,  yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  art  become 
a  transgressor  of  the  law" — He  therefore 
obeys  because  the  injunction  happens  to  fall 
in  with  his  humour,  or  reputation,  or  advan- 
tage.   But  if  doing  what  we  like,  and  refus- 
ing what  we  do  not  like,  be  obedience — it  is 
obedience  to  our  own  will,  and  not  to  the  will 
of  God  ;  and  by  such  a  submission  we  despise 
God  in  reality,  while  we  profess  to  serve 
him :  we  exclude  his  authority,  and  establish 
our  own  pleasure  as  the  governing  principle 
of  our  lives.    This  therefore  annihilates  the 
system  of  composition,  and  all  endeavours  to 
balance  virtues  against  vices,  and  to  atone  for 
the  indulgence  of  sin  by  the  performance  of 
duty.    For  unless  you  regard  the  will  of  God 
universally,  whatever  you  do,  springs  not 
from  a  principle  of  religion,  but  from  some 
other  source — for  if  you  performed  any  one  du- 
ty because  God  had  commanded  it,  you  would 
most  certainly  practise  every  other  for  the 
same  reason ;  and  if  you  avoided  any  one  sin 
because  God  had  forbidden  it,  you  would  un- 
questionably forsake  every  other  on  the  same 
ground.  It  is  in  vain  for  you  therefore  to  plead 
that  you  avoid  that  which  is  evil,  unless  you 
cleave  to  that  which  is  good.    It  is  in  vain 
for  you  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in 
their  affliction,  if  you  do  not  keep  yourselves 
unspotted  from  the  world.    It  is  in  vain  for 
you  to  be  faithful  to  your  engagements  with 
your  fellow-creatures,  if  you  are  strangers  to 
devotion — this  is  to  be  moral,  without  piety :  or 
to  pray  and  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  not  pro- 
vide things  honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men — 
this  is  to  be  pious,  without  morality.    It  is  in 
vain  for  you  to  assemble  together  in  public, 
if  you  never  enter  your  closets;  or  to  be 
saints  in  the  house  of  God,  if  you  are  sinners 
in  your  own.    It  is  in  vain  for  you  to  listen 
to  the  Gospel,  while  it  teaches  you  doctrines 
of  acknowledged  importance,  if  you  do  not 
learn  by  it  to  deny  all  ungodliness  and  world- 
ly lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and 
godly  in  the  present  world.    In  all  these  in- 
stances in  which  you  appear  to  conform  to  the 
will  of  God,  there  is  not  one  act  of  true  obe- 
dience ;  for  true  obedience  consults  the  will 
of  God,  and  this  enjoins  an  attention  to  the 


132 


SERMON  XXIV. 


things  you  neglect,  as  much  as  to  those  which 
from  other  considerations  you  regard. — And 
thus  having  described  the  character  of  his  dis- 
ciples, let  us, 

II.  Survey  their  Privilege.  Our  Saviour 
considers  them  as  his  relations ;  regards  them 
as  his  kindred — they  form  one  family  with 
himself.  "  He  stretched  forth  his  hand  toward 
his  disciples,  and  said,  Behold  my  mother  and 
my  brethren  !  for  wliosoever  shall  do  the 
will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the 
same  is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mo- 
ther." As  such  I  view  them,  as  such  I  will 
behave  towards  them  :  they  shall  enjoy  every 
advantage  which  can  flow  from  connections 
so  intimate.  For  our  Lord  does  not  speak 
ceremoniously :  his  words  are  true  and  faith- 
ful. Let  us  see  what  we  can  find,  to  embody 
the  meaning  of  his  expressions. 

As  soon  as  we  hear  him  claiming  his  dis- 
ciples as  his  kindred,  we  look,  First,  for  fami- 
ly-likeness— and  we  have  it.  "  Whom  he 
did  foreknow,  them  he  also  did  predestinate 
to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son,  that 
he  might  be  the  first-born  among  many  bre- 
thren." "  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy ; 
the  second  man  is  the  Lord  from  heaven.  As 
is  the  earthy,  such  are  they  also  that  are  ear- 
thy ;  and  as  is  the  heavenly,  such  are  they  al- 
so that  are  heavenly.  And  as  we  have  borne 
the  image  of  the  earthy,  we  shall  also  bear  the 
image  of  the  heavenly."  The  resemblance, 
indeed,  is  not  complete  in  this  world,  but  it  is 
real :  it  is  sufficient  to  shew  that  they  have 
a  common  origin.  One  end  governs  them  ; 
their  inclinations  harmonize  ;  the  mind  which 
was  in  him  is  also  in  them  ;  and  as  he  was, 
60  are  they  also  in  the  world, — meek  and 
lowly,  tender  and  compassionate,  patient  and 
forgiving,  active  and  zealous.  And  the  like- 
ness is  incessantly  growing,  and  becoming 
more  and  more  visible  ;  so  that,  "  beholding 
as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  they  are 
changed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to 
glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord/'  And 
by-and-by  it  will  be  perfect  and  entire,  lack- 
ing nothing.  "  When  he  shall  appear,  we 
shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he 
is."  The  likeness  will  he  extended  to  the 
whole  man  :  he  shall  change  this  vile  body, 
that  it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious 
body,  according  to  the  mighty  working  where- 
by he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things  unto 
himself." 

By  claiming  them  as  his  kindred,  he,  Se- 
condly, confers  honour  upon  them.  It  is  al- 
ways glorious  to  belong  to  persons  of  illus- 
trious endowments,  and  who  are  the  admira- 
tion of  the  age.  It  is  in  our  favour  to  have 
it  known  that  we  are  in  the  number  of  their 
friends,  and  are  prized  by  them;  it  shews 
their  opinion  of  us,  and  it  is  supposed  that 
their  esteem  will  not  be  wasted  upon  worth- 
lessness.  Their  own  connections  have  the 
greatest  opportunities  of  improvement  by 


them  ;  and  often  gratuitously  obtain  credit  for 
qualities  which  they  never  possess.  By  re- 
lative union  we  seem  to  have  a  right  to  appro- 
priate some  of  their  talents  and  virtues :  some 
of  their  lustre  is  unavoidably  reflected  upon 
those  who  stand  near  these  polished  bodies. 
Persons  have  been  anxious  to  go  even  far 
back,  to  claim  relation  to  some  extraordinary 
characters.  How  would  some  of  you  feel,  to 
be  acknowledged  as  the  kindred  of  the  king, 
who  is  called  the  fountain  of  honour  1  This 
was  the  glory  of  James  and  Joses,  and  Simeon, 
and  Judas,  who  were  the  brethren  of  our  Lord. 
This  was  the  honour  vouchsafed  to  Mary  his 
mother,  and  for  which  all  generations  shall 
call  her  blessed — Think  of  being  the  mother 
of  One  who  was  the  image  of  the  invisible 
God,  the  first-born  of  every  creature,  whom 
the  winds  and  seas  obeyed,  whom  all  the  an- 
gels in  heaven  are  commanded  to  worship, 
the  deliverer  of  millions  from  the  disgrace  of 
sin  and  the  wrath  to  come — No  wonder  a  cer- 
tain woman,  while  hearing  him,  unable  to 
suppress  her  emotions,  "  lifted  up  her  voice, 
and  said  unto  him,  Blessed  is  the  womb  that 
bare  thee,  and  the  paps  which  thou  hast 
sucked." — "  But  he  said,  Yea,  rather,  blessed 
are  they  that  hear  the  word  of  God  and  keep 
it."  Does  he  then  design  to  exclude  his  own 
relations  from  spiritual  affinity  with  him  1  Or 
does  he  discountenance  natural  affection  and 
duty  ?  Far  from  it — But  he  would  intimate 
that  we  need  not  envy  Mary  ;  we  ourselves 
may  become  his  kindred  in  a  nobler  sense ; 
"  such  honour  have  all  the  saints" — "  Behold 
my  mother  and  my  brethren  !  for  whosoever 
shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother,  and  sister, 
and  mother." 

Thirdly,  If  they  are  his  relations,  he  will 
love  them.  What  would  you  think  of  a  man 
who  had  no  regard  for  a  brother,  a  sister  ? 
Where  should  we  think  of  looking  for  affec- 
tion, if  not  among  those  who  are  attached  by 
ties  of  nature,  by  habits  of  early  intercourse, 
by  mutual  participations  of  every  youthful 
enjoyment,  by  the  reciprocal  performance  of 
a  thousand  tender  and  endearing  offices !  But 
conceive  of  whatever  is  attractive  and  binding 
in  the  fond  image  of  a  mother;  one,  who 
after  nameless  pains  and  perils  gave  thee 
birth,  nursed  thee  on  her  knees,  fed  thee 
at  her  breast,  and  through  sleepless  nights 
and  anxious  days  watched  over  thy  tender 
progress — Bring  before  your  mind  a  man,  all 
genius  and  sensibility,  viewing  the  picture  of 
a  mother, — 

"  Faithful  remembrancer  of  one  so  dear,"— 
recalling  maternal  smiles,  and  the  dress  in 
which  with  blessings  she  dismissed  him  to 
school — forgetting  a  thousand  otherthings,  but 
remembering  her  "nightly  visits,"  her  "  morn- 
ing bounties,"  her  "  constant  flow  of  love 
tha  t  knew  no  fall !" — But  no  mother  was  ever 
so  dear  to  an  admiring  child,  as  his  disciples 


SERMON  XXIV. 


133 


are  to  the  Saviour.  Every  thing  is  defective 
in  holding  forth  his  love  ;  never  was  love  so 
tender,  never  was  love  so  tried  ;  it  is  stronger 
than  death :  it  passeth  knowledge. — See  it 
when  he  was  upon  earth.  His  little  family 
with  which  he  was  surrounded  was  a  fair 
specimen  of  his  people  in  all  ages.  How 
kindly  he  bore  with  their  infirmities!  with 
what  gentleness  he  reproved  them !  with  what 
eagerness  lie  encouraged  them !  with  what 
freedom  he  unbosomed  himself  to  them  ! — 
1  And  loving  his  own  who  were  in  the  world, 
he  loved  them  unto  the  end" — and  gave  proof 
of  it  by  washing  their  feet,  and  then  dying  for 
them — by  which  he  proclaimed  that  he  con- 
sidered nothing  too  low  for  him  to  do,  no- 
thing too  painful  for  him  to  surfer  for  their 
sakes. 

Fourthly,  Since  he  declares  them  to  be  his  re- 
lations, he  will  provide  for  them.  "  If  any  pro- 
vide not  for  his  own,  and  especially  for  those  of 
his  own  house,  he  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is 
worse  than  an  infidel."  And  will  he  incur  a 
reproach  which  he  so  severely  condemns]  It 
was  well  for  the  patriarch  and  his  sons,  in  the 
famine  which  raged  all  over  the  country,  that 
they  had  one  so  nearly  allied  to  them,  who 
reigned  over  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  had  the 
command  of  its  resources.  "  Then  sent  Jo- 
seph, and  called  his  father  Jacob  to  him  and 
all  his  kindred,  threescore  and  fifteen  souls," 
and  the  land  of  Goshen  yielded  them  supplies. 
Christians,  you  have  a  relation  who  is  Lord 
of  all:  "the  earth  is  his,  and  the  fulness 
thereof."  See  those  who  rise  in  the  state : 
they  soon  draw  their  connections  after  them. 
And  many  evils  may  arise  from  this  among 
men.  Sinecures  may  be  multiplied,  places 
may  be  formed  in  order  to  be  filled,  and  the 
state  may  be  burdened  to  maintain  the  friends 
of  those  who  are  in  power — while  offices  may 
be  disposed  of,  not  according  to  qualifica- 
tion, but  affinity.  But  Jesus  Christ  injures 
none  by  the  elevation  of  his  kindred  ;  and  he 
prepares  them  all  for  the  stations  they  occupy. 
— And  surely,  if  they  are  not  all  exalted,  he 
will  suffer  none  of  them  to  famish.  "  O  fear 
the  Lord,  ye  his  saints ;  for  there  is  no  want 
to  them  that  fear  him.  The  lions  do  lack  and 
suffer  hunger,  but  they  that  seek  the  Lord 
shall  not  want  any  good  thing."  You  may 
rejoice  in  all  the  glory  and  empire  to  which 
he  is  advanced — you  are  interested  in  it — it 
is  for  you.  "  He  is  made  head  over  all  things 
unto  his  body,  the  Church."  "  He  has  pow- 
er given  him  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should 
give  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  the  Father 
hath  given  him."  And  not  satisfied  with  his 
own  personal  dignity,  he  wishes  his  friends 
to  sit  with  him  upon  his  throne;  and  this  is 
his  language,  "Father,  I  will  that  those 
which  thou  hast  given  me  be  with  me  where 
I  am,  to  behold  my  glory."  "  And  the  glory 
which  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them ;  that 
they  may  be  one,  even  as  we  are  one." 

12 


Again  :  Since1  he  regards  them  as  his  bre- 
thren, his  sisters,  his  mother,  he  will  keep  up 
an  intercourse  with  them.  He  will  corres- 
pond with  them  by  means  of  his  word ;  and 
many  a  precious  epistle  will  they  receive 
from  him,  unfolding  the  sentiments  of  his 
heart,  and  telling  them  where  he  now  is, 
and  what  he  is  preparing  for  them.  He 
will  also  come  to  see  them :  he  will  peculiar- 
ly visit  them  in  trouble ;  he  is  a  "  Friend 
born  for  adversity."  "  And  better  is  a  neigh- 
bour that  is  near,  than  a  brother  that  is  far 
off."  "  When  thou  passest  through  the  wa- 
ters, I  will  be  with  thee;  and  through  the 
floods,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee:  when 
thou  passest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not 
be  burned,  neither  shall  the  flames  kindle  up- 
on thee."  For, 

Finally,  he  will  defend  them.  When  Mo- 
ses went  forth  and  "  saw  one  of  his  brethren 
suffer  wrong,  he  defended  him,  and  avenged 
him  that  was  oppressed,  and  smote  the  Egyp- 
tian." We  see  how  Esther  exerted  herself 
to  preserve  from  the  malice  of  Haman  her  na- 
tion and  her  uncle's  house — "  How  can  I  en- 
dure to  see  the  destruction  of  my  kindred  !** 
And  will  the  Saviour  be  an  unconcerned  spec- 
tator of  the  dangers  of  his  people  ?  Let  their 
enemies  beware.  In  opposing  them,  they 
persecute  him :  he  that  toucheth  them,  touch- 
eth  the  apple  of  his  eye.  No  weapon  formed 
against  them  shall  prosper.  Their  Redeemer 
is  mighty;  and  he  will  plead  their  cause. 
"  Happy  art  thou,  O  Israel :  who  is  like  unto 
thee,  O  people  saved  by  the  Lord,  the  shield  ot 
thy  help,  and  who  is  the  sword  of  thine  excel- 
lency !  and  thine  enemies  shall  be  found  li- 
ars unto  thee,  and  thou  shalt  tread  upon  their 
high  places." 

From  the  explanation  of  the  words  which 
has  been  given,  we  derive  four  interesting  re- 
flections :  with  which  we  shall  conclude. 

The  First  leads  us  to  admire  the  grace 
and  condescension  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
When  we  look  into  the  world,  we  find  those 
of  rank  and  consequence  detaching  them- 
selves as  much  as  possible  from  those  below 
them :  they  are  ashamed  to  be  too  familiar 
with  their  inferiors,  though  the  inferiority 
consists  in  things  which  possess  very  little,  if 
any,  real  and  intrinsical  excellency.  Why 
should  a  man  think  me  beneath  him,  because 
he  has  a  greater  abundance  of  "  thick  clay  V 
Is  wealth  dignity  1  "Silver  and  gold  have  1 
none,"  says  Peter — So  then  a  man  may  be  an 
inspired  apostle  and  able  to  work  miracles, 
and  be  poor.  "Foxes  have  holes,  and  the 
birds  of  the  air  have  nests ;  while  the  Son  of 
man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head,"  says 
our  Saviour — A  person  therefore  may  be  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  ex- 
press image  of  his  person ;  and  be  destitute  of 
worldly  possessions.  Why  should  a  man 
swell,  as  he  passes  by  me,  because  he  wears 
a  title1. 


134 


SERMON  XXIV. 


"  Pigmies  are  pigmies  still,  though  perch'd  on  Alps  I 
•'  And  pyramids  are  pyramids  in  vales." 

Take  a  prince :  he  has  only  five  senses ;  he 
is  made  of  dust,  and  is  returning  to  dust 
again,  and  in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  pe- 
rish. See  those  who,  springing  from  obscu- 
rity, hav.e  soared  high  in  worldly  success : 
how  unwilling  are  they  to  be  found  in  com- 
pany with  their  kindred  who  remain  in  indi- 
gence !  how  eager  are  they  to  conceal  the  re- 
lation !  But  here  is  a  subject  of  wonder,  which 
may  well  lead  us  to  exclaim,  "  Lord,  what  is 
man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him ;  or  the  son 
of  man,  that  thou  visitest  him  V  See  Him 
that  has  all  power  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  the 
King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords,  stooping 
from  his  glorious  majesty,  looking  to  him  that 
is  poor,  searching  for  his  connections  who 
dwell  in  houses  of  clay,  and  desirous  of  pub- 
lishing the  relation — See  him  "  stretching 
forth  his  hand  toward  his  disciples,"  and  say- 
ing, "  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren ! 
For  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of"  my  Father 
which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother, 
and  sister,  and  mother." 

The  Second  remark  leads  us  to  contemplate 
the  indemnities  and  advantages  of  religion. 
It  is  readily  acknowledged,  that  in  following 
the  Son  of  God,  we  must  deny  ourselves  and 
take  up  our  cross:  a  succession  of  painful 
services  will  be  required  of  us;  various  sacri- 
fices are  indispensable. — But  "  verily  there 
is  a  reward  for  the  righteous."  "  Godliness 
is  profitable  unto  all  things  ;  having  promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to 
come."  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  There  is 
no  man  that  hath  left  house,  or  parents,  or 
brethren,  or  wife,  or  children,  for  the  kingdom 
of  God's  sake,  who  shall  not  receive  manifold 
more  in  this  present  time,  and  in  the  world  to 
come  life  everlasting." — It  is  no  easy  thing  to 
pursue  the  will  of  God  inflexibly  to  the  end  : 
the  performance  of  it,  in  many  cases,  will  de- 
prive us  of  friends,  create  us  enemies,  and 
draw  upon  us  reproach.  But  it  will  never 
suffer  us  to  repent  of  our  engagement :  it  re- 
quires of  us  nothing  mean;  it  withholds  from 
us  nothing  glorious. — Is  divine  audience  a 
privilege  1  This  is  connected  with  obedience. 
"  God  heareth  not  sinners;  but  if  a  man  be  a 
worshipper  of  God  and  doth  his  will,  him  he 
heareth."  Is  an  assurance  of  immortality  a 
privilege  1  This  is  connected  with  obedience. 
"The  world  passeth  away,  and  the  lusts 
thereof ;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God, 
abideth  for  ever." — Is  a  union  with  the  fami- 
ly of  Jesus  Christ  a  privilege  ?  This  is  con- 
nected with  obedience.  "  Behold  my  mother 
and  my  brethren  !  For  whosoever  shall  do 
the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven, 
the  same  is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mo- 
ther." 

The  Third  remark  leads  us  to  observe  the 
holiness  of  the  Gospel.  Of  this  we  are  per- 
petually reminded.    It  is  insured  by  its  pro- ! 


mises  as  well  as  by  its  commands,  by  its  pri- 
vileges as  well  as  by  its  duties.  Its  blessings, 
however  free,  are  only  to  be  enjoyed  in  a 
course  of  obedience.  The  family  of  Jesus  is 
like  heaven:  "the  unrighteous  are  exclud- 
ed. "This  is  the  law  of  the  house:  upon 
the  top  of  the  mountain  the  whole  limit 
thereof  round  about  shall  be  most  holy.  Be- 
hold this  is  the  law  of  the  house."  When  he 
was  upon  earth  he  did  not  seek  to  establish 
an  indiscriminate  empire,  or  to  draw  a  large 
heterogeneous  mass  after  him :  his  fan  was  in 
his  hand :  by  the  application  of  various  tests, 
he  selected  those  who  followed  him  from  prin- 
ciple and  inclination,  and  drove  back  the 
cowardly,  the  mercenary,  the  false-hearted. 
What !  can  the  brethren  of  Jesus  Christ  be 
earthly,  sensual,  devilish]  "He  that  is  joined 
to  the  Lord  is  of  one  spirit."  And  "  if  any 
man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none 
of  his."  And  therefore  they  who  discharge 
you  from  obedience,  and  promise  you  securi- 
ty, belie  every  word  of  the  Bible,  and  oppose 
the  very  design  of  religion,  which  is,  by 
sanctification,  to  assimilate  man  to  the  image 
of  God.  If  therefore  you  value  the  connec- 
tion, and  are  desirous  of  entering  this  family, 
remember,  there  is  only  one  way  of  access  to 
it.  Do  not  imagine  you  can  elude  the  deter- 
mination of  our  Saviour,  and  enjoy  the  privi- 
lege without  the  character  of  his  disciples. 
But  if  this  be  the  only  way  of  admission,  it 
stands  open  to  all.  Did  your  alliance  depend 
upon  genius,  literature,  affluence,  or  office, 
many  of  you  must  despair.  But  his  family  is 
not  of  this  world.  From  the  hope  of  the  Gos- 
pel none  are  excluded,  but  those  who  wicked- 
ly exclude  themselves. — "  Therefore,  as  He 
who  hath  called  you  is  holy,  so  be  ye  holy  in 
all  manner  of  conversation :"  and — pray,  with 
David,  "  Teach  me  to  do  thy  will,  for  thou 
art  my  God  ;  thy  Spirit  is  good  ;  lead  me  in- 
to the  land  of  uprightness" — and  then  you 
may  be  assured  of  your  inclusion,  whatever  be 
your  talents,  whatever  be  your  circumstances. 
"  For  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  my  Fa- 
ther which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  bro- 
ther, and  sister,  and  mother." 

The  Fourth  reflection  leads  us  to  enforce 
upon  Christians  the  duty  derived  from  their  al- 
liance. Remember  that  you  are  "  no  more 
strangers  and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens 
with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of 
God."  Walk  worthy  of  the  vocation  where- 
with you  are  called.  Demean  yourselves  as 
the  relations  of  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory. — 
Let  brotherly  love  continue.  Let  there  be 
no  strife  between  you  and  your  fellow- 
Christians,  for  you  are  brethren.  Do  not  en- 
vy the  world;  it  is  a  reproach  to  your  family; 
you  are  placed  in  a  higher  order  than  they ; 
you  have  better  titles,  honours,  riches,  plea- 
sures— Rejoice  and  glory  in  the  connection : 
under  a  sense  of  your  unworthiness,  let  the 
thought  of  it  revive  you ;  under  the  reproach 


SERMON  XXV. 


135 


of  the  world,  let  the  thought  of  it  animate  you 
— let  them  vilify,  let  them  cast  out  your 
name  as  evil ;  He  is  yours,  and  you  are  his, 
and  you  are  precious  in  his  sight. — And,  final- 
ly, let  it  reconcile  you  to  death ;  cherish  the 
pleasing,  the  familiar  notion  of  it  which  the 
words  of  your  Lord  supply — It  is  only  going 
home,  and — Home 

"  la  the  lov'd  retreat  of  peace  and  plenty ; 
"Where,  supporting  anil  supported, 
"  Polish'd  friends  and  dear  relations 
"  Meet  and  mingle  into  bliss." 

Such  is  an  earthly  residence.  What  is  hea- 
ven t  What  will  our  Father's  house  be,  where 
all  the  dear  members  of  the  family  will  be 
assembled  together  ?  Why  do  you  wish  to  be 
detained  from  home? — How  unnatural  to  long 
to  be  always  strangers  and  pilgrims  upon 
earth!  How  unaccountable  is  the  aversion 
you  express  to  a  messenger,  which  comes  on- 
ly "  to  gather  you  unto  your  own  people !"  If 
persons  loved  not  to  travel,  surely  one  thing 
would  reconcile  them  to  it — the  prospect  of 
home  ;  especially  if  their  dearest  friend  was 
gone  before,  and  had  promised  to  be  there  to 
receive  them.  And  if  the  thought  of  leaving 
some  few  behind  pained  them,  they  would  be 
relieved  from  much  of  the  distress,  if  they 
knew  that  these  friends  would  soon,  very  soon 
follow,  and  that  probably  they  may  pass  upon 
the  road  the  vehicle  destined  to  bring  them. 

 Christians !  what  you  have  found  most 

like  home  below  has  been  the  sanctuary. 
There  you  held  communion  with  your  hea- 
venly Father,  and  embraced  your  friends  and 
companions  in  his  presence — and  for  "  their 
sakes"  you  said,  "  Peace  be  within  thee." 
There  you  longed  to  appear,  and  you  found  it 
good  to  be  there.  But  as  the  blessedness 
was  imperfect,  so  it  was  transient.  You 
blended  with  few,  and  soon  separated,  to  mix 
with  others  very  differently  minded.  But 
when  you  ascend,  and  enter  your  Father's 
house  above,  you  will  never  more  go  out; 
you  will  join  the  general  assembly — and  "  be 
for  ever  with  the  Lord."  "  Wherefore  com- 
fort one  another  with  these  words." 


SERMON  XXV* 


THE  SAVIOUR  HONOURED  IN  HIS 
PEOPLE: 

(A  SERMON  PREACHED  AT  ST.  IVES.  ON  THE 
8TH  OF  OCTOBER,  1S12,  BEFORE  THE  BED- 
FORD UNION.) 

lam  glorified  in  them. — John  xvii.  10. 

Who  in  this  congregation  lives  without 
prayer  1 — 

This  is  a  question  which  it  is  impossible 
for  your  preacher  to  determine.     But,  in  so 

*  Advertisement: — The  Author  of  this  Sermon  is 
not  a  member  of  the  Association  before  whom  it  was 
delivered.  But  his  coalition  is  prevented  by  distance 
only.  Were  he  contiguously  situated,  he  should  esteem 
co  operation  his  duty  and  his  privilege  :  for  nothing 


large  an  assembly,  there  are  probably  some, 
if  not  many  of  this  unhappy  description  :  and 
if  he  knew  where  you  were  sitting,  he  would 
look  towards  you,  rot  with  anger,  but  with 
pity,  and  say — "  My  dear  hearers.  You  may 
be  respectable  in  your  character ;  you  may 
be  caressed  by  your  connections ;  you  may 
be  prosperous  in  your  secular  concerns — but 
you  are  living  without  God  in  the  world;  you 
are  strangers  to  your  duty,  your  honour,  your 
happiness  ;  you  are  wholly  unlike  Him  whom 
as  Christians  we  profess  to  resemble,  and 
who  is  perpetually  calling  upon  us  to  follow 
his  example." 

— If  you  can  live  without  prayer,  He  did 
not.  "  In  the  days  of  his  flesh  he  offered  up 
prayers  and  supplications,  with  strong  crying 
and  tears,  unto  him  that  was  able  to  save  him 
from  death,  and  was  heard  in  that  he  feared." 

In  the  sacred  history  we  often  read  of  his 
praying :  but  the  Holy  Ghost  has  more  fully 
recorded  and  signalized  the  prayer  contained 
in  the  chapter  before  us.  It  was  delirered 
in  the  open  air  just  as  he  was  going  to  suffer. 
He  had  left  the  communion  chamber ;  and 
was  approaching  the  garden  of  Gethsemane. 
He  paused  near  Cedron.  The  hum  of  the  ad- 
joining metropolis  was  diminished.  It  was  to- 
wards midnight  The  moon  was  walking  in 
brightness ;  it  was  at  full.  He  was  now  to 
take  an  affectionate  farewell  of  his  immediate 
disciples,  who  stood  around  him  weeping.  He 
considered  them  as  the  depositaries  of  his 
truth,  and  the  representatives  of  his  Church  in 
all  ages  ;  "and  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  heaven," 
he  commends  them  to  the  blessing  of  his  Fa- 
can  be  more  consistent  with  his  convictions,  than  the 
importance  of  the  object ;  or  more  congenial  to  his  feel- 
ings, than  the  liberality  of  the  plan  by  which  this  union 
is  distinguished.  Hence,  being  invited  to  preach  at  one 
of  its  meetings,  he  most  readily  complied. 

But  he  acknowledges  he  did  not  consent  to  publish  so 
willingly,  notwithstanding  the  earnest  and  unanimous 
request  of  his  Christian  friends,  and  his  brethren  in  the 
ministry.  He  was  aware  of  some  considerable  differ- 
ence between  the  claims  of  a  sermon  preached  and  a 
sermon  published.  In  the  former,  a  freedom  occasion- 
ally bordering  on  colloquial,  may  be  readily  allow- 
ed, and  even  applauded  :  w  hile  the  same  commenda- 
tion, or  even  apology,  will  not  be  conceded  in  the  lat- 
ter. 

It  is  a  very  desirable,  but  not  a  very  easy  thing  to  give 
the  effect  of  novelty  to  well-known  and  familiar  truth. 
Some  little  sacrifices  of  refinement,  even  fastidious 
criticism  would  surely  tolerate,  to  excite  in  the  mass  of 
hearers  that  interest  w  hich  will  secure  atte  ntion  and 
aid  recollection.  What  by  its  dulness  composes  the 
mind;  what  by  its  smoothness  slides  off  from  it ;  what 
by  its  subtilty  evaporates  in  the  mere  act  of  hearing, 
will  do  little  good.  Something  must  strike,  and  pene- 
trate, and  remain  :  something  must  be  taken  away, 
which  the  individual  will  think  of  when  alone,  and 
talk  of  when  in  company.  The  trords  of  the  mise,  says 
Solomon,  are  as  goads, and  as  nails  fastened  by  themas- 
ters  of  asscmb/ies.  Nothing  is  more  to  be  guarded  against 
than  a  tame  unimpressive  correctness,  that  will  sub- 
ject a  preacher  to  the  reflection  of  Quimilian,  "His 
greatest  excellency  is — that  he  has  no  fault ;  and  his 
greatest  fault  is — that  he  has  no  excellency." 

It  was  the  wish  of  those,  who  by  their  candid  impor- 
tunity have  rendered  themselves  responsible  to  the 
public  for  this  publication,  that  the  discourse  should  re- 
tain the  boldness  and  vivacity  of  popular  and  free  ad* 
dress,  and  be  presented  as  it  was  delivered.  This  the 
author  has  been  enabled  to  do  perfectly,  as  t lie  9ermon 
was  secured  in  short  hand. 


136 


SERMON  XXV. 


ther  and  our  Father,  his  God  and  our  God. 
And  behold  the  principal  argument  on  which 
his  intercession  rests.  "  All  mine  are  thine, 
and  thine  are  mine,  and  I  am  glorified  in 
them.  Whatever  is  done  for  my  people  is 
done  for  me.    It  will  advance  my  honour. 

I  AM  GLORIFIED  IN  THEM." 

Let  us  endeavour  to  exemplify  the  truth  of 
this  sentiment,  and  shew,  in  six  ways,  how 
Christ  is  glorified  in  christians. 

1.  He  is  glorified  in  them  by  the  deriva- 
tion OF  ALL  THEIR  EXCELLENCES  FROM  HIM. 

What  a  change  do  we  annually  witness  in 
nature!  After  a  few  months  of  wintry  drea- 
riness and  desolation,  the  enlivening  spring 
returns.    The  ground  is  decked  in  green. 
The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth.    The  trees 
assume  their  foliage.    The  leaves  guard  the 
buds;  the  blossoms  are  succeeded  by  fruit; 
and  the  fruit  swells,  colours,  and  matures 
against  the  perfect  day.    All  this  is  owing  to 
the  influence  of  the  sun;  and — the  sun  is 
glorified  in  our  fields  and  gardens.    An  ar- 
chitect rears  an  edifice.    It  is  admired  for  its 
beauty,  or  its  grandeur,  by  all  who  inspect  it. 
But  the  praise  belongs  to  the  builder,  not  to 
the  building ;  and — the  workman  is  glorified 
in  the  work.    A  benefactor  takes  a  youth  in 
all  the  rudeness  of  ignorance.    He  awakens 
and  cultivates  his  powers.    He  adorns  him 
with  science ;  he  forms  him  into  character ; 
and  sends  him  forth  to  serve  his  generation  ; 
and — the  tutor  is  glorified  in  the  pupil.  The 
Saviour  of  sinners  is  the  maker  of  all  things; 
"  all  things  were  made  by  him,  and  without 
him  was  not  any  thing  made  that  was  made." 
And  he  is  glorified  in  all.    Impressions  of  his 
power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  are  left,  upon 
the  largest  and  the  least :  "  All  his  works 
praise  him."    And  is  he  less  glorified  in  the 
new  creation  than  in  the  old]  Has  he  not 
said,  "  Behold,  I  create  new  heavens  and  a 
new  earth ;  and  the  former  shall  not  be  re- 
membered nor  come  into  mind."    If  believ- 
ers were  once  darkness,  and  he  opened  the 
eyes  of  their  understanding:  if  they  were 
once  in  the  bondage  of  corruption,  and  he 
made  them  free :  if  they  were  once  degraded 
and  perishing  in  all  the  ruins  of  the  Fall,  and 
he  made  them  an  eternal  excellency,  the  joy 
of  many  generations — it  undeniably  follows 
that  he  is  glorified  in  them.  Hence  it  is  said, 
"  This  people  have  I  formed  for  myself ;  they 
shall  shew  forth  my  praise.    They  shall  be 
called  trees  of  righteousness,  the  planting  of 
the  Lord,  that  he  may  be  glorified.    I  will 
place  salvation  in  Jacob  for  Israel  my  glory." 

All  the  subjects  of  divine  grace  are  made 
sensible  of  this  truth.  In  his  name  they  re- 
joice. In  his  righteousness  they  are  exalted 
They  know  that  by  his  stripes  they  are  heal 
ed.  They  know  that  from  his  fulness  they 
receive,  and  grace  for  grace.  And  as  Joab, 
when  Rabbah  was  ready  to  fall,  sends  to  Da- 
vid his  sovereign  to  assume  the  honour, "  lest," 


says  he,  "  the  city  be  taken  and  be  called  af- 
ter my  name ;"  so  the  Christian  is  concerned 
that  his  Lord  and  Saviour  should  wear  the 
glory  of  all  his  attainments  and  achievements. 
"If  I  have  performed  a  duty  properly,  he  en- 
abled me  to  discharge  it.  If  I  have  borne  a 
trial  becomingly,  he  enabled  me  to  endure  it 
If  1  have  vanquished  an  enemy,  he  enabled 
me  to  overcome.  We  are  more  than  conquer- 
ors through  'him  that  loved  us.'  Not  unto 
us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name 
give  glory,  for  thy  mercy  and  for  thy  truth's 
sake.  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed 
us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath 
made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his 
Father,  be  glory  and  dominion  for  ever  and 
ever,  Amen." 

Here  it  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that 
as  Christians,  you  should  never  deny  what  he 
has  done  for  your  souls.  Though  you  ought 
to  be  humble,  you  equally  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful :  but  you  cannot  thank  him  for  a  blessing 
he  has  never  conferred,  or  a  work  he  has  ne- 
ver accomplished.  And  why  should  you  be 
unwilling  to  acknowledge  it !  If  you  can  say, 
Whereas  I  was  once  blind,  I  now  see :  and 
whereas  I  was  once  dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins,  I  am  now  walking  in  newness  of  life — 
you  are  not  praising  the  subject,  but  the  au- 
thor :  and  he  is  glorified  in  you. 

II.  He  is  glorified  in  their  holy  walk. 
Dr.  Watts  has  well  observed — 

"Thus  shall  we  best  proclaim  abroad 
The  honours  of  our  Saviour  God, 
When  the  salvation  reigns  within. 
And  grace  subdues  the  power  of  sin." 

These  lines  refer  to  the  address  of  Paul  to 
Titus :  "  Exhort  servants  to  be  obedient  unto 
their  own  masters,  and  to  please  them  well 
in  all  things :  not  answering  again  ;  not  pur- 
loining, but  shewing  all  good  fidelity ;  that 
they  may  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our  Sa- 
viour in  all  things."  I  wish  you  to  notice  this 
address  the  more,  because  of  the  character 
adduced.  It  is  observable  that  in  the  illustra- 
tion of  his  subject,  the  Apostle  does  not  bring 
forward  a  prince,  or  a  nobleman.  He  does 
not  mention  even  a  master — but  a  servant. 
How  easily  and  commonly  men  deceive  them- 
selves !  How  many  are  ready  to  imagine,  that 
they  should  do  wonders  if  they  were  placed 
in  higher  stations,  or  were  possessed  of  great- 
er talents !  They  forget,  that  he  who  is  not 
faithful  in  little,  will  never  be  faithful  in 
much — that  every  individual,  however  situat- 
ed or  endowed,  has  some  influence — that  even 
a  servant  may  roll  away  reproach,  and  re- 
commend the  Gospel  by  its  amiable  and  mo- 
ral operation  in  social  life — even  a  servant 
may  adorn  the  doctrine  of  a  God  our  Saviour 

IN  ALL  THINGS. 

Upon  the  same  principle  speaks  the  apostle 
Peter.  He  supposes  a  case  by  no  means  an 
unusual  one.  The  wife  is  called  by  divine 
grace,  while  the  husband  remains  unconvert- 
ed.   She  naturally  feels  a  concern  for  his 


SERMON  XXV. 


137 


salvation.  Her  first  endeavour  is  to  bring 
him  under  those  instructions  which  have 
proved  useful  to  herself.  But  he  refuses  to 
hear.  He  will  not  "obey  the  word."  Is  there 
then  no  other  moral  expedient]  Says  the 
Apostle,  you  may  "  win  him  without  the 
word,"  while  he  beholds  "your  chaste  con- 
versation coupled  with  fear,"  and  sees  that 
you  are  less  attentive  to  the  decoration  of 
your  person  than  to  the  cultivation  of  Chris- 
tian tempers,  and  especially  that  "  ornament 
of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  which  in  the  sight 
of  God  is  of  great  price." 

Let  us  not  hastily  pass  over  this  part  of  our 
subject.  Professors  of  religion  !  Be  harmless 
and  blameless,  the  sons  of  God,  without  re- 
buke, in  the  midst  of  a  wicked  and  perverse 
nation,  among  whom  ye  shine  as  lights  in  the 
world,  holding  forth  the  word  of  life.  The 
eyes  of  many  are  upon  you.  They  are  anx- 
ious to  find  something,  not  to  remove  their 
unhappy  prejudices,  but  to  confirm  them. 
They  judge  of  your  religion,  by  you.  This 
is  indeed  wrong — but  so  it  is.  You  appeal  to 
the  Scripture ;  but  they  appeal  to  you :  and 
the  only  estimate  they  form,  will  be  taken 
from  the  representations  you  give,  and  the 
impressions  you  make.  And  should  not  these 
representations  be  accurate  1  Should  not 
these  impressions  be  favourable  1  Should  not 
the  picture  do  some  justice  to  the  features  of 
the  original  it  is  intended  to  hold  forth  and 
make  known  ! 

You  well  know  that  the  doctrines  we  preach 
are  often  supposed  to  lead  to  licentiousness, 
or  at  least  that  they  are  not  very  friendly  to 
holiness  and  good  works.  If  the  supposition 
was  true,  we  should  deserve,  for  inculcating 
them,  all  the  reprobation  we  sometimes  meet 
with.  But  we  affirm  it  is  not  true.  We 
contend  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath  that  these 
are  doctrines  "  according  to  godliness."  Yet 
after  all — we  must  come  to  you  for  our  most 
striking  proofs.  "  Ye  are  our  epistles,  known 
and  read  of  all  men."  When  we  can  address 
such  cavillers  and  say — "  Come  with  us,  and 
you  shall  see  these  principles  in  practice. 
Behold  these  advocates  for  evangelical  truth. 
See  how  humble  they  are  under  applause. 
See  how  forgiving  they  are  under  provoca- 
tion. See,  when  riches  increase,  how  little 
they  set  their  hearts  upon  them.  Enter  their 
shops  and  warehouses — see  what  justice  and 
fairness  distinguish  all  their  dealings.  Enter 
their  houses — see  what  cleanliness,  decency, 
order,  and  harmony  prevail  there.  See  how 
the  wife  reverences  her  husband ;  and  see 
how  the  husband  loves  his  wife  even  as  him- 
self. See  how  the  parents  provoke  not  their 
children  to  wrath,  but  train  them  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord ;  and  see 
how  the  children  obey  their  parents  in  all 
things.  See  how  masters  give  unto  their 
own  servants  that  which  is  just  and  equal, 
knowing  that  they  also  have  a  Master  in  hea- 
S  12* 


ven ;  and  see  how  servants  obey,  in  all  things, 
their  masters  according  to  the  flesh,  not  with 
eye  service,  as  men-pleasers,  but  in  single- 
ness of  heart,  fearing  God" — when  we  can 
appeal  to  facts  like  these,  we  put  to  silence 
the  ignorance  of  foolish  men.  Our  hearts  are 
encouraged,  and  our  hands  are  strengthened. 
We  live,  if  ye  stand  fast,  in  the  Lord:  and 
Jesus  Christ  looking  down  from  heaven  says, 
I  am  glorified  in  them. 

What  then  are  we  to  think — excuse  the 
association  of  terms — of  these  religious  trans- 
gressors, whose  tempers  and  conduct  are  al- 
ways at  variance  with  their  pretensions] 
"  One  sinner  destroyeth  much  good."  An 
unholy  professor  of  religion  is  a  judgment  up- 
on the  place  in  which  he  lives.  If  I  had  such 
characters  now  to  address,  I  would  say — "  By 
your  means  the  way  of  truth  is  evil  spoken 
of,  and  the  worthy  name  blasphemed  by  which 
you  are  called.  You  perplex  the  weak,  and 
you  distress  the  strong.  You  strike  your 
preachers  dumb.  You  justify  and  harden  the 
wicked  in  their  iniquity.  You  lead  many  to 
think  that  all  religion  is  but  a  system  of  hy- 
pocrisy. The  destruction  of  thousands  will 
lie  at  your  door.  They  would  long  ago  have 
attended  the  Gospel,  but  they  saw  that  you 
were  not  the  better  for  your  boasted  doctrines 
and  privileges.  Your  servants  and  children 
see  in  you  the  same  pride  and  passions  as  in 
others ;  and  witness  the  mixture  of  family 
prayers  and  quarrels.  Your  neighbours  see 
that  you  are  as  hard-hearted  and  as  close- 
handed  as  any  around  you ;  and  that  while 
you  are  talking  of  another  world  you  are 
keeping  a  keen  look-out  after  this.  O  that 
we  could  exclude  you  from  our  assemblies — 
or,  as  God  may  give  you  repentance,  O  that 
you  had  invisible  bodies,  and  could  enter  and 
withdraw  unseen,  that  no  one  might  ever 
imagine  you  had  the  least  connection  with  us." 

III.  He  is  glorified  in  them,  by  the  cheer- 
fulness OF  THEIR  LIVES. 

All  men  seek  happiness;  and  if  they  per- 
ceive that  you  find  what  they  seek  after  in 
vain;  though  they  turn  from  pleasure  to 
wealth,  from  wealth  to  fame,  from  fame  to 
friendship,  from  friendship  to  science — this  is 
likely  to  awaken  their  attention,  to  conciliate 
their  regard,  and  to  induce  them  to  take  hold 
of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew,  saying,  we 
will  go  with  you,  for  we  have  heard  that  God 
is  with  you. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  religion  is  a 
mopish  and  melancholy  thing ;  that  it  pre- 
scribes a  constant  course  of  restraints ;  that  it 
requires  us  to  walk  in  a  way  which,  though 
it  may  end  in  everlasting  life,  is  full  of 
thorns  and  briers,  and  scorpions.  Such  a  pros- 
pect must  naturally  and  unavoidably  terrify 
and  disgust.  And  hence  this  prejudice  will  be 
found  to  be  as  injurious  as  it  is  common.  For 
present  feelings  are  the  most  powerful.  The 
constitution  of  man  is  such,  that  he  must 


13S 


SERMON  XXV. 


have  present  gratification.    He  is  thirsty, 
and  must  drink ;  and  if  there  be  no  fountain 
near,  he  will  kneel  down  to  the  puddle. 
Now,  would  you  confirm  a  prejudice  so  ge- 
neral and  so  fatal  as  this,  by  long  demure 
faces  ;  by  sighs  and  groans  as  if  you  were  al- 
ways at  a  funeral ;  by  your  insensibility  to 
the  beauties  of  nature,  and  indifference  to  the 
bounties  of  Providence  ;  by  indulging  those 
peevish,  fretful  tempers  which  make  you  "a 
continual  dropping  in  a  rainy  day;"  by  your 
sinking  in  the  day  of  adversity,  and  drawing 
upon  yourself  the  reflection  of  Eliphaz,  "Be- 
hold, thou  hast  instructed  many,  and  thou  hast 
strengthened  the  weak  hands ;  thy  words  have 
upholden  him  that  was  falling,  and  thou  hast 
strengthened  the  feeble  knees — but  now  it  is 
come  upon  thee,  and  thou  faintest ;  it  touch- 
eth  thee,  and  thou  art  troubled.    Is  not  this 
thy  fear,  thy  confidence,  thy  hope,  and  the 
uprightness  of  thy  way  V  Would  you  lead 
people  to  think  that  your  Master  is  a  tyrant, 
and  his  service  bondage  1  Would  you  appear 
to  be  less  happy  in  serving  the  Lord  than  in 
serving  sin '!  Would  you  shew  that  in  ex- 
changing the  world  for  the  Church  you  pass- 
ed from  liberty  into  a  dungeon,  and  left  a 
fruitful  field  for  a  barren  land,  or  a  wilder- 
ness of  drought !  It  must  needs  be  that  offences 
come  ;  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  of- 
fence cometh  !  Be  alive,  my  brethren,  to  your 
duty,  if  not  to  your  privileges;  and  render 
your  religion  as  attractive  as  it  is  important ! 

I  go  back  to  the  primitive  Christians — They 
learned  in  whatsoever  state  they  were  there- 
with to  be  content.    In  every  thing  they  gave 
thanks.    If  sorrowful,  they  were  always  re- 
joicing.   They  did  not  think  it  necessary  to 
wade  through  a  sea  of  soul  trouble  to  author- 
ize them  to  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
They  did  not  suffer  a  sense  of  their  unworthi- 
ness  and  imperfections,  though  it  kept  them 
humble,  to  make  them  miserable  or  to  deprive 
them  of  hope.    They  did  not  torment  them- 
selves about  futurity,  but  cast  all  their  care  on 
One  who  cared  for  them.    They  did  not  view 
death  as  the  king  of  terrors,  but  as  their  deliver- 
er and  their  friend.    The  day  of  judgment  did 
not  keep  them  aghast ;  they  waited  for  it,  and 
loved  his  appearing.    Here  I  see  every  thing 
as  it  ought  to  be.    After  this  I  turn  to  modern 
professors,  and  here  I  behold  a  difference 
which  can  only  be  accounted  for  on  one  of 
these  two  principles :  either  that  Christianity 
is  changed  since ;  or,  that  we  do  not  under- 
stand it,  and  receive  it  aright.    The  former 
solution  is  inadmissible.    Jesus  Christ  is  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  There 
is  the  same  efficacy  in  his  blood.    There  is  the 
same  power  in  his  arm.    There  is  the  same 
love  in  his  heart.    The  promises  are  the  same, 
The  throne  of  grace  is  the  same.    Heaven  is 
the  same.    Providence  is  the  same.  No, 
Christians;  the  difference  is  to  be  sought,  not 
in  your  system,  but  in  yourselves.  Serious- 


ly therefore  examine  your  experience.  Pray 
that  you  may  know  what  is  the  hope  of  your 
calling,  and  what  is  the  glory  of  the  riches  of 
his  inheritance  in  the  saints.  Be  concerned 
to  face  a  reproaching  world,  and  with  bold- 
ness to  tell  them, 

"  The  men  of  grace  have  found 

"  Glory  begun  below, 
"  And  heavenly  fruits  on  earthly  groand 
"  From  faith  and  hope  will  grow.". 

Shew  that  no  danger  can  terrify  you ;  that 
no  loss  can  impoverish  you.  Shew  that  if  the 
reed  fails,  the  rock  remains ;  if  the  cistern  be 
dried  up,  the  fountain  of  living  water  flows  on. 
Say,  with  the  Church,  "  Although  the  fig  tree 
shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the 
vine ;  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and 
the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall 
be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no 
herd  in  the  stalls :  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the 
Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation. 
Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always ;  and  again  I  say, 
rejoice." 

IV.  He  is  glorified  in  them  by  their  rea- 
diness TO  SUFFER  FOR  HIS  SAKE. 

It  was  to  the  honour  of  Rachel  that  Jacob 
served  for  her  seven  years,  and  that  his  regard 
was  sufficient  to  turn  the  toil  into  pleasure. 
It  always  tends  to  the  praise  of  an  individual, 
when  those  who  best  know  him,  are  ready  to 
make  any  sacrifices  or  to  endure  any  hardships 
in  his  service.    The  strength  of  wise  attach- 
ment implies  great  excellency.    The  impres- 
sions made  by  character  are  always  the  most 
deep  and  wonderful.   Scarcely  for  a  righteous 
man  will  one  die,  yet  peradventure  for  a  good 
man  some  would  even  dare  to  die.    It  is  easy 
to  apply  this  to  the  subject  before  us.    It  re- 
flects cpmparatively  but  little  honour  upon 
the  Redeemer  to  follow  him  when  all  is  peace- 
ful and  inviting  :  but  when  we  are  called  to 
deny  ourselves  and  take  up  our  cross ;  to  go 
forth  to  him  without  the  camp,  bearing  his  re- 
proach ;  to  regard  father  and  mother,  and  wife 
and  children,  as  nothing  when  valued  against 
him :  to  leave  all,  and  lose  all,  for  his  sake — 
Then  a  Christian  has  an  opportunity  to  evince 
the  sincerity  and  fervency  of  his  love  to  the 
Lord  Jesus ;  and  to  say  practically — and  peo- 
ple will  believe  him — "  He  is  so  glorious  in 
himself,  he  is  so  dear  to  my  affections,  he  is 
so  essential  to  every  particle  of  my  happiness, 
that,  whatever  be  the  consequence,  I  cannot 
return  from  following  after  him." 

What  did  Peter  and  John  when  they  were 
dismissed  with  ignominy  from  the  council  7 
They  went  away  "  rejoicing  that  they  were 
counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame  for  his  name." 
Hear  Paul's  account  of  his  sufferings.  "  In 
labours  more  abundant,  in  stripes  above  mea- 
sure, in  prisons  more  frequent,  in  deaths  oft. 
Of  the  Jews  five  times  received  I  forty  stripes 
save  one.  Thrice  was  I  beaten  with  rods, 
once  was  I  stoned,  thrice  I  suffered  shipwreck, 
a  night  and  a  day  I  have  been  in  the  deep ; 
in  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in 


SERMON  XXV. 


139 


perils  of  robbers,  in  perils  by  mine  own  coun- 
trymen, in  perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in 
the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  perils 
in  the  sea,  in  perils  among'  false  brethren ;  in 
weariness  and  painfulness,  in  watchings  often, 
in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in  cold 
and  nakedness."  Ah,  Paul,  thy  religion  costs 
thee  dear  !  And  dost  thou  not  repent  of  thy 
engagement  to  a  Master,  whose  service — 
month  after  month — year  after  year,  is  but  a 
succession  of  privations  and  trials  ? — Repent ! 
— "  I  take  pleasure  in  infirmities,  in  re- 
proaches, in  necessities,  in  persecutions,  in 
distresses,  for  Christ's  sake.  The  love  of 
Christ  constraineth  us,  because  we  thus  judge, 
that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead,  and 
that  he  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live 
should  not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves, 
but  to  him  that  died  for  them  and  rose  again." 

Love — Love  is  strong  as  death ;  many  wa- 
ters cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods 
drown  it.  You  do  not  so  strikingly  see  the 
amazing  vigour  of  this  principle  in  religion, 
because  Christians  are  not  called  in  our  day 
to  pass  through  the  same  scenes  as  they  were 
in  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel.  Otherwise 
you  would  witness  it.  The  principle  is  the 
same  in  every  age.  It  has  been  exemplified 
long  since  the  apostolical  era.  Persecution 
has  formerly  reigned  and  ravaged  in  our  own 
country.  Many  suffered  and  died  privately, 
a  spectacle  to  angels,  though  not  to  men.  But 
we  have  a  large  Book  of  Martyrs. — I  enter 
the  prisons,  and  survey  the  victims.  Here  I 
see  the  old,  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  They  shall 
be  afraid  of  that  which  is  high,  and  fear  shall 
be  in  the  way,  and  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a 
burden."  Here  I  see  females,  distinguished 
by  the  delicacy  and  timorousness  of  their  sex. 
Here  I  see  children,  tender  and  impressible 
— But  all  are  heroes.  What  makes  them  so  1 
They  are  offered  promotion,  liberty,  and  life. 
But  none  of  these  things  move  them.  They 
are  told  of  tortures ;  they  are  led  forth,  and 
pointed  to  the  stake — and  they  embrace  it, 
crying,  "  None  but  Christ ;  none  but  Christ." 
How  is  He  glorified  here ! — We  ourselves 
have  frequently  seen  a  little  of  this  principle 
even  in  our  own  day.  We  have  seen  the 
young  man  resolved  to  follow  his  religious 
convictions  though  mocked  of  his  neighbours, 
lampooned  by  his  companions,  and  threatened 
by  his  superiors.  We  have  seen  the  servant 
resigning  her  place :  we  have  seen  the  work- 
man foregoing  his  labour  and  seeking  employ- 
ment, rather  than  give  up  an  apprehended 
duty.  We  have  seen  the  daughter,  regard- 
less of  entreaties  and  tears — even  a  mother's 
entreaties  and  tears — the  most  trying  and  ter- 
rible of  all  persecutions  to  an  ingenuous  and 
filial  mind — rather  than  renounce  the  com- 
munion of  saints,  and  turn  her  back  on  the 
"  glorious  Gospel  of  the  blessed  God."  The 
disposition  which  carries  persons  so  far, 
would ,  if  events  required  it,  carry  them  further; 


carry  them  to  any  length.  They  have  the  spi- 
rit of  martyrs,  and  says  Christ,  1  am  glorified 
in  them. 

V.  He  is  glorified  in  their  profession  op 

his  NAME. 

If  it  were  only  necessary  to  be  a  Christian, 
there  never  would  have  been  a  martyr — he 
could  have  hid  his  religion  in  his  heart.  Da- 
niel might  have  prayed  without  the  place  and 
the  posture  he  chose  ;  and  have  escaped  the 
lions'  den.  But  if  we  examine  the  Scripture, 
we  shall  find  that  an  obligation  lies  upon  us 
not  only  to  be  Christians,  but  to  appear  such ; 
not  only  to  believe  with  the  heart,  but  to  con- 
fess with  the  tongue ;  not  only  to  hold  fast  the 
reality,  but  the  profession  of  our  faith  without 
wavering.  It  is  asked,  "Who  will  rise  up 
for  me  against  the  evil  doers'!  Who  will 
stand  up  for  me  against  the  workers  of  ini- 
quity 1"  It  is  said,  "  They  that  are  in  dark- 
ness shall  shew  themselves.  They  are  en- 
lightened for  this  very  purpose :  "  Arise, 
shine,  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee."  A  Christian  is 
compared  to  a  candle  :  and  our  Saviour  tells 
us,  "  a  man  does  not  light  a  candle  to  put  it 
under  a  bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick,  that  it 
may  give  light  to  all  that  are  in  the  house ;" 
and  adds,  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before 
men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works, 
and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
— So  little  countenance  does  the  Scripture 
give  to  the  practice  of  those  who  renounce 
business,  detach  themselves  from  the  com- 
munity, run  into  the  cells  of  solitude,  and  bu- 
ry their  religion  alive. 

A  profession  of  godliness  not  only  requires 
that  you  should  live  in  civil  society,  but  also 
that  you  should  join  yourselves  to  some  body 
of  Christians,  according  to  the  order  of  the 
Gospel.  If  all  were  likeminded  with  some, 
there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  a  church- 
state  any  where  to  be  maintained.  They 
never  became  members  of  a  society.  They 
live  unconnectedly.  Excuse  the  roughness  of 
the  comparison — they  may  be  considered  as  a 
kind  of  gipsies  in  religion. — They  have  no 
spiritual  home — They  wander  from  place  to 
place — Pilfering  as  they  go — Eluding  all  pa- 
rochial offices — Declining  all  the  king's  taxes 
— And  never  contributing  to  the  support  of 
any  of  the  advantages  they  enjoy. — Whereas 
Christians  are  called  "  fellow  citizens  with 
the  saints."  They  belong  to  a  holy  state  of 
laws  and  immunities.  They  join  in  commu- 
nion as  to  the  privileges  of  religion  ;  in  co- 
operation as  to  its  duties ;  in  sympathy  as  to 
its  conditions.  To  vary  the  image — as  the 
pupils  of  Christ,  they  enter  his  school ;  as  the 
soldiers  of  Christ,  they  enter  his  army. 
Stragglers  can  do  little — they  are  liable  to  be 
cut  off  It  is  not  the  will  of  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  that  we  should  fight  alone — he  calls 
us  to  be  embodied  ;  and  when  we,are  enrolled 
and  stationed — it  is  not  his  pleasure  that  we 


110 


SERMON  XXV. 


should  run  from  one  corps  to  another,  accord- 
ing to  our  humour,  but  abide  with  God  in  our 
own  rank  and  place. 

This  profession  also  includes  our  bearing-, 
as  we  have  opportunity,  a  verbal  testimony  in 
favour  of  religion.  "  Ye  are  my  witnesses," 
says  God :  and  woe  to  us — for  we  are  subpoe- 
naed— if,  when  we  are  called  upon  to  depose, 
we  are  either  absent  or  silent.  Some  persons 
are  godly  with  the  godly,  but  temporize  in 
the  presence  of  the  wicked  and  the  worldly. 
When  they  hear  the  truth  of  Christ  denied, 
his  ways  misrepresented,  his  people  vililied, 
they  sit  "  as  men  in  whose  mouth  there  is  no 
reproof."  Is  this  to  act  the  part  of  a  good  sub- 
ject, or  of  a  traitor  1  "  He  that  is  not  for  me  is 
against  me,  and  he  that  gatherethnotwithme 
scattereth  abroad."  If  you  are  ashamed  of 
the  Redeemer's  interest,  abandon  it  at  once : 
but  if  you  believe  it  to  be,  what  it  really  is, 
infinitely  important  and  excellent,  never 
shrink  from  an  avowal  of  it  in  whatever  cir- 
cumstances or  company  you  are  found. 

We  know  that  wisdom  is  profitable  to  di- 
rect. Every  thing  is  beautiful  in  its  season. 
A  word  fitly  spoken  how  good  is  it !  But  we 
are  often  more  in  danger  of  erring  on  the  side 
of  caution  and  prudence  than  on  the  side  of 
forwardness  and  zeal ;  and  to  avoid  rashness, 
many  go  and  shelter  themselves  under  the 
chilling  influence  of  fear  and  shame. 

There  is  one  case  in  which  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  err.  It  is  when  you  are  invited 
by  people  to  places,  and  parties,  and  practices, 
which  your  principles  lead  you  to  condemn. 
When  this  occurs,  you  have  an  opportunity, 

FURNISHED  BY  THEMSELVES,    of  Stating  the 

grounds  of  your  conduct,  and  the  reasons  of 
your  refusal.  They  cannot  surely  be  offend- 
ed at  the  delivery  of  your  creed,  when  they 
themselves  call  for  your  sentiments.  But, 
alas !  there  are  many  who,  instead  of  seizing 
such  fine  opportunities  to  testify,  are  not 
only  speechless,  but — even  yield  and  conform. 
They  are"  overcome  of  evil"  instead  of  "  over- 
coming evil  with  good." 

VI.  He  is  glorified  in  them  by  their  ex- 
ertions to  promote  his  cause. 

The  cause  of  Christ  is  very  extensive.  It 
takes  in  every  thing  that  is  true  and  righteous, 
and  good  and  noble,  in  the  whole  universe. 
But  we  particularly  refer  to  the  cause  of  pure 
and  undefiled  religion.  This  is  advanced  by 
establishing  schools,  building  places  of  wor- 
ship, the  diffusing  of  the  Scriptures,  the  send- 
ing forth  of  missionaries,  the  supporting  of 
ministers;  by  instructing  the  ignorant  and 
reclaiming  the  vicious;  teaching  transgressors 
his  ways,  and  converting  sinners  unto  God. 

In  doing  all  this,  Christ  is  glorified.  He 
condescends  to  consider  you  as  workers  to- 
gether with  him.  He  gives  you  his  own 
names :  and  what  he  is  called  efficiently,  you 
are  allowed  to  be  called  instrumentally. 
"Brethren,"  says  the  apostle  James,  "if  any 


of  you  do  err  from  the  truth,  and  cne  convert 
him;  let  him  know,  that  he  which  converteth 
the  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way  shall 
save  a  soul  from  death,  and  shall  hide  a  mul- 
titude of  sins.  What!  Can  you  convert] 
Can  you  save]  Can  you  pardon? — It  can 
intend  only  that  you  may  be  the  means  of  do- 
ing it.  But  even  this  is  an  infinite  honour 
conferred  upon  you ;  and  the  inspired  writer 
knowing  the  disposition  of  Christians,  makes 
the  work  its  own  reward.  And  if  there  was 
only  a  probability  ;  if  there  was  only  a  possi- 
bility of  success  but  in  one  instance,  it  ought 
to  be  enough — and  if  we  were  in  a  proper  state 
of  mind,  it  would  be  enough — to  lead  us  to  call 
into  action  all  resources,  and  to  exert  all  our 
influences  through  life  to  attain  it ! 

"  Pleasure  and  praise  run  through  God's  host, 

"  To  see  a  sinner  turn : 
"  Thou,  Patan,  hast  a  captive  lost, 

"  And  Christ  a  subject  born." 

And  can  you  do  nothing  to  glorify  the  Re- 
deemer] Are  you  a  parent  ?  Cannot  you  re- 
commend him  to  your  children  ?  Are  you  a 
master  ]  Cannot  you  preach  him  to  your  ser- 
vants] Are  you  the  head  of  a  family  ?  Cannot 
you  say,  with  Joshua,  "  As  for  me  and  my 
house,  we'  will  serve  the  Lord  ?"  Are  you  a 
neighbour  ?  Cannot  you  invite  your  acquaint- 
ances to  come  and  hear  the  word  of  life  ?  Are 
you  a  tradesman  ?  Cannot  you  fulfil  the  prophe- 
cy ;  "  Her  merchandize  and  her  hire  shall  be 
holiness  to  the  Lord ;  it  shall  not  be  treasured 
nor  laid  up ;  for  her  merchandize  shall  be  for 
them  that  dwell  before  the  Lord,  to  eat  suffi- 
ciently, and  for  durable  clothing."  Are  you 
rich  ]  Cannot  you  "  honour  the  Lord  with 
your  substance  and  with  the  first-fruits  of 
your  increase]"  Indeed  there  is  nothing  by 
which  you  may  be  so  useful  in  the  cause  of 
Christ  as  property,  since  it  enables  you  to  em- 
ploy every  kind  of  instrumentality. 

Every  one,  therefore,  may  do  something; 
and  all  may  do  much  more  than  fear  or  sloth 
will  allow  them  to  imagine.  This  being  ad- 
mitted, it  is  hoped  that  no  one  will  suffer  his 
exertions  to  be  chilled  by  the  misapplication 
of  an  acknowledged  truth.  "  The  Lord  has 
promised  to  carry  on  his  own  cause.  He  is 
able  to  do  it :  and  he  will  do  it" — He  will — 
But  he  works  by  means ;  these  means  display 
his  wisdom  as  well  as  his  power;  and  those 
who  love  his  Name  will  desire  to  become  in- 
struments in  his  hand. 

It  is  needless  to  remark  how  forcibly  this 
subject  bears  upon  the  Union  which  you  have 
so  nobly  established  and  maintained ;  and  the 
success  of  which,  if  it  has  not  been  answerable 
to  your  wishes,  has  been  sufficient  to  encou- 
rageyour hopes  and  reward  your  exertions. 

Temporal  beneficence  is  not  to  be  under- 
valued. While  we  are  in  this  vale  of  tears 
we  shall  be  perpetually  called  to  the  exercise 
of  it,  Who  is  not  ready  to  bless  the  man 
who  feeds  the  hungry,  and  clothes  the  naked, 
and  heals  the  sick] 


SERMON  XXV. 


141 


But,  after  all,  charity  is  to  be  estimated  by 
the  capacity  of  its  subject,  and  the  grandeur 
and  the  duration  of  its  object. 

No  zeal  therefore  can  equal  that  which  re- 
gards the  salvation  of  the  soul.  Men  are  pe- 
rishing for  lack  of  knowledge.  The  Gospel 
is  the  only  remedy.  There  is  no  alternative 
between  our  belief  of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel 
and  the  importance  of  it;  between  our  be- 
lief of  its  importance  and  our  owning  an  ob- 
ligation to  receive  it  ourselves  and  extend  it 
to  others. 

How  consistently  therefore,  my  United 
Brethren,  are  you  engaged  while  attempt- 
ing to  diffuse  it !  And  this  is  your  aim — your 
only  aim.  Your  object  is  not  to  make  prose- 
lytes, but  converts.  What  bigots  magnify, 
you  overlook.  While  you  hold  your  convic- 
tions upon  subordinate  subjects,  your  conduct 
asks,  "  What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  V 
You  consider  every  thing  as  trifling,  compar- 
ed with  the  everlasting  salvation  of  the  souls 
of  men.  You  practically  acknowledge  that 
the  "  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink, 
but  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost :"  that  "  in  Christ  Jesus  neither  cir- 
cumcision availeth  any  thing,  nor  uncircum- 
cision,  but  a  new  creature." 

— "  And  as  many  as  walk  by  this  rule, 
peace  be  on  them,  and  mercy,  and  upon  the 
Israel  of  God."  May  your  zeal  provoke  num- 
bers more ;  and  still  discovering  the  same  spi- 
rit, and  minding  the  same  thing,  may  you  at 
last  obtain  the  approving  sentence,  Thou 

HAST  LABOURED  AND  HAST  NOT  FAINTED.  Let 

me  therefore  conclude  by  observing — 

First,  That  Christians  ought  not  to  think 
meanly  of  themselves.  This  remark  is  liable 
to  abuse,  and  needs  explanation.  It  does  not 
stand  opposed  to  humbleness  of  mind,  but 
to  thoughtlessness  and  levity.  There  is  a 
personal  self-valuation  which  is  censurable ; 
but  there  is  a  relative  self-valuation  that  is 
not  only  allowable  but  commendable.  For  in- 
stance. A  mother  ought  not  to  feel  an  in- 
difference to  herself :  she  ought  to  know  that 
her  life  is  of  importance  to  her  little  rising 
charge.  For  who  can  fill  her  place  1  Who 
can  feel  for  an  infant  like  her  who  bore  it? — 
And  this  consciousness,  instead  of  inflaming 
her  pride,  will  be  a  source  of  gratitude,  self- 
preservation,  and  duty.  A  minister  may  be 
humble  and  heavenly-minded,  and  long  to  de- 
part to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better; 
but  when  he  looks  around  upon  his  people, 
he  may  feel  that  his  labours  are  desirable, 
and  say,  To  abide  in  the  flesh  is  more  need- 
ful for  you.  But  there  is  no  relation  so  mo- 
mentous as  that  which  subsists  between 
Christ  and  Christians.  And  if  He  be  disgrac- 
ed or  glorified  in  us — Oh  !  how  we  ought  to 
feel  the  value  of  our  character,  the  sacred- 
ness  of  our  condition,  the  awfulnessof  our  de- 


stination, the  necessity  of  self-attention,  of  vi- 
gilance, and  of prayer ! 

Secondly.  If  He  is  glorified  in  us,  let  us  be 
his  servants,  attending  continually  upon  this 
very  thing.  Let  it  be  the  grand  and  pleasing 
business  of  our  lives.  O  my  dear  brethren  in 
the  ministry,  and  my  Christian  friends,  let  us 
mourn  over  the  little  honour  we  have  brought 
to  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Let  his  fame  be 
dear  to  our  hearts.  Let  us  not  be  satisfied 
with  the  thought  that  we  have  not  disgraced 
him — though  this  is  a  mercy — but  let  us  be 
concerned  to  honour  him — to  honour  him  in 
all  our  words  and  works,  in  our  conversation 
and  conduct,  in  our  bodies  and  spirits. 

Need  I  say  how  much  He  deserves  it  1  You 
know  what  he  is.  You  know  what  he  has 
done.  You  know  what  he  is  doing.  You 
know  his  promises.  You  know  his  sufferings. 
See  him,  who  was  rich,  for  yoursakes  becom- 
ing poor.  See  him  a  man  of  sorrows  and  ac- 
quainted with  grief.  See  him  in  the  man- 
ger ;  in  the  garden ;  on  the  cross. 

41  See,  from  his  head,  his  hands,  his  feet, 

11  Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down ; 
"  Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 

"  Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  ? 
— "Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine, 

"  That  were  a  present  far  too  small ; 
"  Love  so  amazing,  so  divine, 

"  Demands  my  soul,  my  life,  my  all." 

Thirdly.  If  Christ  is  glorified  in  his  people 
here,  how  will  he  be  glorified  in  them  here- 
after !  In  the  vastness  of  their  number;  in 
the  completeness  of  their  deliverance ;  in  the 
grandeur  of  their  elevation ;  in  the  beauty  of 
their  residence  ;  in  the  eternity  of  their  joys 
— "Then  shall  he  come  to  be  glorified  in  his 
saints,  and  to  be  admired  in  all  them  that 
believe,  in  that  day." 

Fourthly.  Let  the  wicked  remember  that 
Christ  will  be  glorified  in  them.  He  will  dis- 
play his  wisdom  and  power  in  making  them 
instruments  to  accomplish  his  providential 
purposes ;  in  turning  their  designs  and  actions 
from  their  natural  currents  into  secret  chan- 
nels prepared  to  receive  them,  and  in  which 
they  will  flow  into  the  fulness  of  him  that 
filleth  all  in  all.  The  wrath  of  man  shall 
praise  him,  and  the  remainder  of  wrath  will 
he  restrain.  Nebuchadnezzar  is  called  his 
servant  as  well  as  Moses. 

He  will  glorify  his  truth  and  his  righteous- 
ness in  punishing  them. 

Either  in  a  way  of  mercy  or  in  a  way  of 
justice,  he  has  sworn  by  himself,  the  word  is 
gone  out  of  his  mouth,  that  to  him  every  knee 
shall  bow  and  every  tongue  confess. 

"  Acquaint  now  thyself  with  him,  and  be 
at  peace  ;  thereby  good  shall  come  unto  thee. 
Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish 
from  the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but 
a  little.  Blessed  are  all  they  that  put  their 
trust  in  him."  Amen. 


142 


SERMON  XXVI. 


SER3ION  XXVI.* 


THE  VALUE  OF  LIFE. 

A  SERMON  DELIVERED  MAY  8TH,  1803,  BEFORE 
THE  CORRESPONDING  BOARD  IN  LONDON  OF 
THE  SOCIETY  IN  SCOTLAND  (INCORPORATED 
BY  ROYAL  CHARTER)  FOR  THE  PROPAGA- 
TION OF  CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEDGE  IN  THE 
HIGHLANDS  AND  ISLANDS. 

Skill  for  ski?i,  yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  -will  he 
give  for  his  life. — Job  ii.  4. 

— And  what  is  Life!  "A  vapour,  that  ap- 
peareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth 
away" — "a  flower  of  the  field" — "a  flood" 
— "a  sleep" — "a  dream" — "a  tale" — "no- 
thing"— "surely,  every  man,  at  his  best  es- 
tate, is  altogether  vanity." 

What  is  Life  1  Toil  and  care — perplexity 
and  embarrassment — a  succession  of  sighs  and 
tears,  of  regrets  and  disgusts — a  theatre  of 
tragedies — a  hospital  of  diseases — a  wilder- 
ness of  thorns  and  briers — "  a  dry  and  thirsty 
land  where  no  water  is."  "Man,  that  is 
born  of  a  woman,  is  of  few  days  and  full  of 
trouble."  Such  is  the  estimate  of  Human 
Life !  It  is  equally  distinguished  by  brevity 
and  calamity.  But,  my  brethren,  the  one 
serves  to  qualify  and  relieve  the  other ;  and 
since  our  days  are  so  evil,  it  is  well  they  are 
so  few — 

— "  They'll  waft  us  sooner  o'er 
"  Tins  life's  tempestuous  sea 

"Soon  shall  we  reach  the  peaceful  shore 
"  Of  bless'd  eternity." 

"  Wherefore  is  light  given  to  a  man  that  is 
in  misery,  and  life  unto  the  bitter  in  soul  ? 
Who  long  for  death,  and  it  cometh  not,  and 
dig  for  it  more  than  for  hid  treasure  1  who 
rejoice  exceedingly  and  are  glad  when  they 
can  find  the  gravel  There  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling,  and  there  the  weary  are  at 
rest.  There  the  prisoners  rest  together ;  they 
hear  not  the  voice  of  the  oppressors;  the 
small  and  great  are  there,  and  the  servant  is 
free  from  his  master."  What  man  is  he  who 
would  immortalize  evil,  and  extend  a  life, 
wisely  and  kindly  reduced  to  a  span,  to  ages — 

— "To .ages  in  a  world  of  pain, 

"  To  ages  where  he  goes, 
"  Gall'd  by  affliction's  heavy  chain, 

"  And  hopeless  of  repose  ? 
"  Whence  lias  this  world  its  magic  pow'r? 

"  Why  deem  we  death  a  foe? 
"Recoil  from  weary  life's  best  hour, 

"  And  court  a  longer  woe  ?" 

Nevertheless  life  has  always  been  considered 
the  most  valuable  treasure,  the  most  enviable 

*  Note:— London,  May  18, 1803.  At  the  Annual  Ge- 
neral Meeting  of  tile  Corresponding  Board  irf  London 
of  the  Society  in  Scotland  for  Propogating  Christian 
Knowledge  in  the  Highlands  and  Islands;  His  Grace 
the  Duke  of  A-iholl  in  the  Chair  ;  Resolved  unani- 
mously, That  the  Thanks  of  this  Board  be  given  to 
the  Rev.  William  Jay,  for  his  Sermon  preached  before 
them,  on  the  8th  instant,  at  Surry  Chapel;  and  that 
he  be  requested  to  permit  the  same  to  be  printed,  for 
the  use  of  the  Society.  THOMAS  RUTLEDGE,  Se- 
cretary, pro  tempore. 


prize.  The  love  of  it  is  unquestionably  the 
most,  vigorous  principle  in  our  nature.  It  is  in- 
terwoven with  our  very  frame.  We  feel  it  be- 
fore we  can  appreciate  the  worth  of  the  pos- 
session, or  estimate  the  evil  of  the  loss.  As 
we  grow  up,  to  this  supreme  passion  every 
other  inclination  pays  homage.  Age  does  not 
diminish  it:  misery  does  not  extinguish  it: 
no  sacrifice  is  too  dear  to  purchase  the  continu- 
ance of  it.  Esther  thinks  nothing  of  the  hor- 
rors of  slavery  compared  with  death  :  "  Let  my 
life  be  given  me  at  my  petition,  and  my  peo- 
ple's at  my  request ;  for  we  are  sold,  I  and  my 
people,  to  be  slain  and  to  perish :  but  if  we  had 
been  sold  for  bond-men  and  bond-women,  I 
had  held  my  tongue."  No  sooner  had  Sa- 
muel said,  "  To-morrow  shalt  thou  and  thy 
sons  be  with  me,"  than  Saul  "  fell  straight- 
way all  along  on  the  earth,  and  was  sore  afraid, 
and  there  was  no  strength  in  him."  The  king 
of  Syria  sends  messengers  to  the  king  of  Is- 
rael with  ropes  on  their  necks ;  and  this  is 
their  supplication — "Thy  servant  Benhadad 
saith,  I  pray  thee,  let  me  live."  To  preserve 
life,  Esau  sells  his  birthright. — "  Skin  for  skin, 
vea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his 
life." 

My  brethren,  this  adherence  to  life  we  have 
undertaken  to  justify;  and  we  are  going  to 
prove,  that  there  is  nothing  in  it  unworthy  of 
the  philosopher  or  the  Christian,  the  man  of 
reason  or  the  man  of  faith.  But  in  order  to 
this,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give  you  proper 
views  of  life,  that  we  may  purify  and  ennoble 
the  principle  of  you  attachment ;  and  lead  you 
in  future  to  love  life,  not  from  a  blind  animal 
impulse,  but  from  rational  and  religious  con- 
viction. Our  plan  will  consist  of  two  parts. 
In  the  first,  we  shall  endeavour  to  establish 

THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 

In  the  second,  we  shall  explain  the  use  to 

WHICH  THE  BELIEF  OF  IT  SHOULD  BE  APPLIED. 

These  reflections  are  completely  in  unison 
with  the  call  of  Providence  which  has  assem- 
bled us  together ;  and  will,  we  hope,  fully 
prepare  your  minds  for  an  attention  to  a  case 
which  we  shall  humbly  but  earnestly  recom- 
mend to  your  well-known  liberality. 

I.  In  proof  of  the  importance  of  human 
life,  let  us  first  appeal  to  authority.  Hear 
Solomon.  "  To  him  that  is  joined  to  all  the 
living  there  is  hope  ;  for  even  a  living  dog  is 
better  than  a  dead  lion."  What  says  David  1 
"  Let  my  soul  live,  and  it  shall  praise  thee. 
O  spare  me  a  little,  that  I  may  recover 
strength  before  I  go  hence  and  be  no  more. 
Return,  O  Lord,  deliver  my  soul :  0  save 
me,  for  thy  mercies'  sake.  For  in  death 
there  is  no  remembrance  of  thee  :  in  the  grave 
who  shall  give  thee  thanks  V  How  does  God 
threaten  Eli  1  "  There  shall  not  be  an  old  man 
in  his  house."  How  does  He  encourage 
Baruch  1  "  Behold,  I  will  bring  evil  upon  all 
flesh;  but  thy  life  will  I  give  unto  thee  for  a 
prey,  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest."  He 


SERMON  XXVI. 


143 


speaks  of  it  as  a  peculiar  privilege,  and  pro- 
poses it  as  a  motive  to  obedience  :  "  For  by 
me  thy  days  shall  be  multiplied,  and  the  years 
of  thy  life  shall  be  increased."  Lest  we 
should  suppose  that  no  regard  is  paid  to  this 
consideration  under  the  Gospel,  the  apostle 
Paul  values  a  duty  because  of  this  recom- 
mendation :  "  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mo- 
ther ;  which  is  the  first  commandment  with 
promise  ;  that  it  may  be  well  with  thee,  and 
that  thou  mayest  live  long  on  the  earth."  To 
which  we  may  add,  that  the  apostle  Peter 
makes  no  scruple  to  borrow  similar  language 
from  the  Psalms  :  "  What  man  is  he  that  de- 
sireth  life  and  loveth  many  days,  that  he  may 
see  good  !  Keep  thy  tongue  from  evil,  and  thy 
lips  from  speaking  guile.  Depart  from  evil, 
and  do  good  ;  seek  peace  and  pursue  it.  For 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righteous, 
and  his  ears  are  open  unto  their  cry.  The 
face  of  the  Lord  is  against  them  that  do  evil, 
to  cut  off  the  remembrance  of  them  from  the 
earth." 

Let  us,  secondly,  contemplate  human  life 
as  the  work  op  God.  Why  do  you  value 
that  picture !  It  is  Raphael's.  Why  deplore 
the  destruction  of  that  building'!  The  noble- 
ness of  the  structure,  the  years  consumed  in 
the  progress,  the  hands  employed  in  the  exe- 
cution? Why  preserve  that  instrument]  It 
is  singular  and  curious  in  the  contrivance;  it 
is  capable  of  diversified  application  and  use ; 
it  is  irreparable  when  destroyed.  "  Marvel- 
lous are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty !" 
But  in  this  lower  world  the  chief  is  thy  crea- 
ture Man.  "Thou  hast  made  him  a  little 
lower  than  the  angels,  and  hast  crowned  him 
with  glory  and  honour.  Thou  madest  him  to 
have  dominion  over  the  works  of  thy  hands ; 
thou  hast  put  all  things  under  his  feet." 
And  all  is  under  the  influence  of  his  power 
or  his  skill.  See  the  animal  tribes.  He 
checks  them,  subdues  them  to  his  own  pur- 
poses, converts  them  to  his  own  advantage. 
See  the  material  world.  This  is  under  his 
control,  and  asks  the  culture  of  his  hand. 
Where  he  never  treads,  nature  is  barren,  and 
waste,  and  wild ;  but  when  he  comes,  mea- 
dows are  well  watered,  the  little  hills  rejoice 
on  every  side,  the  valleys  also  are  covered 
over  with  corn,  the  wilderness  and  the  solita- 
ry place  are  made  glad  for  him,  and  the  de- 
sert rejoices  and  blossoms  as  the  rose. 

Every  thing  justifies  the  supremacy  he 
possesses.  His  very  form  is  peculiar.  What 
majesty  is  there  in  his  countenance  !  What 
expression  in  his  features  !  What  penetration, 
what  eloquence,  in  his  looks  !  Material  bodies 
are  governed  by  the  laws  of  mechanism,  and 
animal  by  those  of  instinct — but  he,  possessed 
of  greater  liberty,  takes  a  more  extensive 
range,  and  is  capable  of  a  thousand  varieties 
of  operation.  Beasts  and  birds  are  no  wiser 
now  than  they  were  before  the  Flood.  In  a 
few  weeks  or  months  they  reach  all  the  per- 


fection of  which  they  are  susceptible — but  we 
never  know  what  man  may  be ;  his  possibility 
of  improvement  is  endless.  He  steps  forth 
from  nothing,  and  develops  successively  new 
powers  as  he  proceeds:  when  he  ceases  to  in- 
crease in  stature  he  continues  to  grow  in 
wisdom,  and  never  seems  to  approach  the 
manhood  of  mind.  He  is  wearied ;  he  re- 
clines his  head  on  the  lap  of  insensibility,  and 
sleep  seals  up  all  his  senses :  you  touch  him, 
and  he  springs  up,  and  crosses  the  boundless 
ocean — numbers  the  stars — calculates  to  a  se- 
cond the  position  and  appearances  of  the  hea- 
venly bodies — looks  backward  and  sees  what 
was  done  six  thousand  years  ago — plunges 
into  futurity,  and  views  the  sun  turned  into 
darkness  and  the  moon  into  blood — surveys 
himself,  and  finds  an  infinity  of  observations 
in  his  memory  and  of  ideas  in  his  imagination, 
and  of  purposes  in  his  mind — an  intellectual 
kingdom  all  his  own. 

And  whence  is  all  this?  He  is  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made.  There  is  a  spirit  in 
man,  and  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty 
giveth  him  understanding.  In  his  mysterious 
composition  intelligence  is  blended  with  clay : 
he  is  in  alliance  with  worms,  and  a  partaker 
of  the  Divine  nature.  He  is  capable  of  know- 
ing, and  serving,  and  enjoying  his  Creator ; 
he  has  reason  and  conscience  ;  he  is  suscep- 
tible of  vice  and  virtue,  of  morality  and  reli- 
gion. This  gives  him  his  peculiarity  and 
pre-eminence :  this  raises  him  above  the 
beasts  that  perish;  this  is  the  foundation  of 
the  sacred  fence  which  guards  our  life : 
"  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall 
his  blood  be  shed ;  for  in  the  image  of  God 
made  he  man." 

This  brings  us  to  a  third  view  of  the  im- 
portance of  human  life — It  has  an  intimate, 
unavoidable,  inseparable  connexion  with  an- 
other WORLD,  AND  AFFORDS  US  THE  ONLY 

opportunity  of  acquirino  good.  If  we  con- 
fine all  our  attention  to  the  present  momenta- 
ry state  of  man,  he  will  appear  a  perplexing 
trifle.  He  is  referred  to  no  end  equal  to  his 
character ;  no  result  vindicates  the  expense  of 
the  materials  employed;  he  has  powers  and 
capacities  far  above  his  situation;  he  has  wants 
and  wishes,  which  nothing  within  his  reach 
can  relieve  and  satisfy.  If  he  possess  great 
privileges,  the  more  pitiable  is  his  condition  ; 
the  more  has  he  to  lose  ;  the  more  lamentable 
is  his  fall — he  falls  like  a  king,  and  we  feel 
the  more,  even  for  the  grandeur  of  which  he 
is  despoiled.  He  is  great  in  vain.  He  as- 
sumes consequence,  raises  expectation,  and 
rots ! — and  as  we  hide  his  shame  among  pu- 
trefaction and  corruption,  we  look  up,  and 
say,  "Lord,  wherefore  hast  thou  made  all 
men  in  vain 

But  as  soon  as  he  is  seen  in  connection 
with  another  state  of  being,  he  is  rescued  at 
once  from  perplexity  and  insignificance.  As 
soon  as  we  seize  this  point  of  vision,  all  is  in- 


144 


SERMON  XXVI, 


telligible  ;  his  faculties  and  his  desires  are  ex- 
plained ;  nothing' is  disproportionate,  nothing'  is 
useless,  nothing  is  mean.  As  soon  as  we  per- 
ceive that  the  present  is  only  introductory  to 
the  future,  and  draws  after  it  endless  conse- 
quences, all  is  momentous;  all  is  tremen- 
dously grand  !  Here  you  may  feel  greatness 
without  danger  of  pride.  Here  you  are  call- 
ed upon  to  reverence  yourselves.  Immorta- 
lity,— what  a  prerogative !  Eternity, — what 
a  destiny!  A  preparation  for  it, — what  a  call- 
ing! What  resolution  should  it  inspire !  What 
energy  should  it  infuse  !  What  caution,  what 
vigilance  should  it  produce ! 

The  importance  of  a  thing  is  not  to  be  judg- 
ed of  by  the  magnitude  of  its  appearance,  or 
the  shortness  of  its  continuance — but  by  the 
grandeur,  and  variety,  and  permanency  of  its 
effects.  Why  is  a  foundation  so  important .' 
It  is  low  and  hidden — but  it  sustains  the 
whole  fabric,  and  its  weakness  or  strength 
determines  the  danger  or  solidity  of  the  build- 
ing. Why  is  spring  so  important]  Its  love- 
liness is  transitory  and  fading — but  the  glory 
of  summer,  the  plenty  of  autumn,  the  re- 
sources of  winter,  depend  upon  it.  Why  is 
youth  so  important?  The  season  is  soon  over 
— but  its  influences  are  durable,  and  give  a 
character  to  our  remaining  years.  A  single 
day  has  opened  a  source  of  joy  or  of  sorrow, 
which  has  continued  its  streams  through  life. 
In  one  hour  a  man  has  incurred  a  disgrace, 
which  time  could  never  wipe  off  But  no- 
thing can  equal  the  importance  of  the  present 
life,  as  a  state  of  probation,  according  to  which 
our  future  and  unchangeable  happiness  or 
misery  will  be  decided.  For,  upon  this  prin- 
ciple, none  of  your  actions  can  be  indifferent. 
They  are  filling  the  books  which  will  be 
opened  to  judge  you.  They  are  regulating 
the  sentence  by  which  you  are  to  be  'absolv- 
ed or  condemned.  You  are  living  as  saints 
or  sinners  for  a  million  of  ages  hence.  And 
can  you  be  too  attentive,  too  accurate,  when 
you  are  thinking,  speaking,  enjoying,  suffer- 
ing, living — for  eternity  !  In  other  cases,  you 
look  forward  and  weigh  the  result  of  things. 
You  are  determined  to  shun  or  pursue  them, 
not  by  their  present  aspects,  but  by  their  fu- 
ture effects ;  you  inquire  what  influence  they 
will  have  upon  your  property,  your  health, 
your  reputation,  your  family.  But  these  con- 
sequences are  al  ways  temporal,  and  sometimes 
reversible — while  here  they  are  everlasting 
and  unalterable. 

I  beseech  you,  my  dear  hearers,  to  reflect 
upon  this,  and  to  consider,  that  as  is  your  way, 
such  will  be  your  end.  Never  forget  the  lan- 
guage of  the  apostle,  "  Whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap:  he  that  sow- 
eth  to  the  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corrup- 
tion ;  but  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit,  shall 
of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  Observe 
this  image.  It  shews  you  that  your  present 
conduct  and  your  future  state  have  the  same 


relation  to  each  other,  as  aeed-time  and  har- 
vest. In  nature,  no  one  sows  one  kind  of 
grain,  and  looks  for  another ;  he  knows  that 
every  seed  rises  with  its  own  body.  But, 
alas!  how  many  are  there  chargeable  with 
this  folly  in  religion  !  For  what  are  your  pur- 
suits in  this  world,  that  you  should  suppose 
them  likely  to  be  crowned  with  glory,  honour, 
and  immortality,  in  another?  What  resem- 
blance, what  suitableness,  what  relation  is 
there  between  them  !  A  Christian  hopes  to 
enjoy  God  hereafter,  and  he  is  seeking  him 
here.  The  song  which  he  wishes  to  sing  in 
heaven,  he  is  learning  upon  earth.  He  is  ad- 
vancing to  a  state  of  unmixed  friendship — and 
he  is  dwelling  in  love;  to  a  state  of  union  and 
harmony  among  good  men  of  every  name — 
and  he  is  rising  above  these  differences,  and 
calling  them  brethren  ;  to  a  state  where  dis- 
tinctions which  are  now  necessary  will  be 
done  away — And  he  is  valuing  men,  not  ac- 
cording to  their  wealth,  but  their  character. 
Now  here  we  see  earnests,  tendencies,  begin- 
nings— This  is  the  dawn  breaking  into  day, 
the  child  bespeaking  the  man,  the  grain  con- 
taining the  principles  and  pledges  of  the  whole 
crop. 

The  importance  of  an  opportunity  is  to  be 
determined  by  the  greatness  of  the  prize 
which  is  to  be  secured  or  lost.  If  there  be  a 
season  for  ob taming  the  salvation  of  the  soul, 
it  will  be  as  superior  to  every  other  opportu- 
nity as  the  salvation  of  the  soul  surpasses 
every  secular  claim.  Such  is  life.  "  Now 
is  the  accepted  time,  now  is  the  day  of  sal- 
vation." The  Gospel  is  a  sovereign  remedy ; 
it  reveals  and  offers  blessings  answerable  to 
all  our  wants — but  they  are  attainable  only 
in  life.  Are  you  guilty  ?  There  is  forgive- 
ness and  reconciliation — But  "agree  with 
thine  adversary  quickly,  whilst  thou  art  in  the 
way  with  him ;  lest  at  any  time  the  adversary 
deliver  thee  to  the  judge,  and  the  judge  de- 
liver thee  to  the  officer,  and  thou  be  cast  into 
prison :  verily  I  say  unto  thee,  thou  shalt  by 
no  means  come  out  thence  till  thou  hast  paid 
the  uttermost  farthing."  Are  you  needy  ] 
The  Saviour  of  sinners  has  enough  and  to 
spare — but  "  seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may 
be  found,  call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near." 
— "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate :  for 
many,  I  say  unto  you,  will  seek  to  enter  in, 
and  shall  not  be  able.  When  once  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  hath  risen  up,  and  hath  shut 
to  the  door,  and  ye  begin  to  stand  without, 
and  knock  at  the  door,  saying,  Lord,  Lord, 
open  unto  us ;  he  shall  answer  and  say  unto 
you,  I  know  you  not  whence  you  are." — "  He 
that  is  unjust,  let  him  be  unjust  still ;  and  he 
that  is  filthy,  let  him  be  filthy  still;  and  he 
that  is  righteous,  let  him  be  righteous  still ; 
and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy  still." 

Let  us  take  a  fourth  view  of  the  importance 
of  human  life,  by  considering  it  in  relation 

TO  OUR  FELLOW-CREATURES  AND  AS  AFFORDING 


SERMON  XXVI. 


145 


US  THE  ONLY  OPPORTUNITY  OF  DOINO  GOOD. 

The  means  of  the  temporal  and  spiritual  wel- 
fare of  mankind  are  not  poured  down  imme- 
diately from  heaven.  God  divides  the  honour 
with  us.  He  gives,  and  we  convey :  he  is 
the  source,  and  we  are  the  medium.  It  is  by 
human  instrumentality  that  he  maintains  the 
cause  of  the  Gospel,  speaks  comfort  to  the 
afflicted,  gives  bread  to  the  hungry  and  know- 
ledge to  the  ignorant.  This  renders  our  situa- 
tion highly  interesting. 

Some  are  indeed  of  more  importance  in  so- 
ciety than  others.    How  much  is  bound  up  in 
the  lives  of  some  individuals !  Remove  that 
husband,  and  two  tender  relations  commence : 
the  widow  descends  from  the  seat  of  ease  to 
the  toil  of  labour  :  the  fatherless  lose  the 
caresses  of  the  neighbourhood — feel  the  lan- 
guage of  austerity — are  dispersed  abroad — op- 
pressed by  injustice — seduced  by  error  and 
vice.    Remove  that  minister,  and  the  congre- 
gation vanishes,  the  church  is  dissolved. 
When  Josiah  died,  a  nation  mourned.  Indi- 
vidual influence  is  wonderful.    But  no  one  is 
wholly  useless  ;  at  least  no  one  ought  to  be 
so.    The  man  condemned  in  the  parable  was 
the  possessor  of  one  talent  only.    There  is 
wisdom  in  the  selection  of  this  circumstance. 
Had  the  man  with  two  or  with  five  talents 
been  punished,  some  of  you  would  have  escap- 
ed— "  Well,  I  never  filled  such  an  office  ;  I 
never  owned  such  abilities;  I  never  com- 
manded such  property."    But  since  the  ex- 
ample is  taken  from  common  life,  who  can 
be  safe,  if  found  unprofitable  1  Who  can  be 
excused  for  not  doing  a  little,  because  he  is 
incapable  of  doing  much  1  You  need  not  be 
an  extraordinary  character  in  order  to  be  use- 
ful.   There  are  opportunities  of  doing  good  in 
every  calling  of  life :  there  is  no  condition  in 
which  a  human  being  can  be  placed,  which 
allows  him  no  scope  for  moral  agency ;  good- 
ness is  infinitely  diversified  in  its  exercise. 
We  are  always  in  view  of  some  witnesses: 
some  dependents  are  always  leaning  upon  us. 
Some,  when  they  die,  are  missed  more  than 
others  ;  but  who  is  not  missed  at  all ! — "  Then 
Peter  arose  and  went  with  them.    When  he 
was  come,  they  brought  him  into  an  upper 
chamber :  and  all  the  widows  stood  by  him, 
weeping,  and  shewing  the  coats  and  gar- 
ments which  Dorcas  made  while  she  was  with 
them."  You  may  contribute  materially  to  the 
comfort  of  a  fellow-creature ;  be  the  means 
of  his  thanksgivings  to  God ;  gain  his  prayers 
while  you  are  living,  and  his  tears  when  you 
are  dead ;  and  draw  down  many  a  blessing 
upon  your  memory  and  your  offspring — by  a 
small  pittance  of  weekly  aid.    You  may  give 
a  child  understanding,  improve  his  condition 
through  life,  and  lay  open  to  his  view  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  the  Scripture — by  teach- 
ing him  to  read.  By  impressing  a  person  with 
religion,  you  are  profitable  unto  all  things, 
helping  him  to  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
T  13 


is,  and  of  that  whicn  is  to  come — And  this 
may  be  done  by  seasonable  admonition,  or  by 
the  silent  eloquence  of  a  holy  example. 

But  remember  that  all  your  usefulness  at- 
taches only  to  life.  Here  alone  you  can  serve 
your  generation  according  to  the  will  of  God,  by 
promoting  the  wisdom,  the  virtue,  and  the  hap- 
piness of  your  fellow-creatures.  This  is  the  un- 
speakable advantage  ofyour  present  state — this 
is  a  privilege  which  heaven  does  not  afford. 
Yes,  my  brethren,  there  are  various  kinds  of 
influence  and  of  honour,  which  you  must  now 
acquire,  or  you  will  never  possess. 

Would  you  exercise  patience  1  This  is 
your  only  opportunity.  In  heaven  there  are 
no  trials.  There  you  cannot  be  seen  compos- 
ed under  affliction ;  there  you  cannot  be  heard 
to  say,  "  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what  seem- 
eth  him  good." 

Would  you  exercise  self-denial?  This  is 
your  only  opportunity.  In  heaven  there  are 
no  temptations  to  resist,  no  corrupt  inclina- 
tions to  mortify,  no  sensual  appetites  to  control. 

Would  you  exercise  Christian  courage  7 
This  is  your  only  opportunity.  Here  alone 
can  you  be  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
profess  truth  in  the  face  of  opposition ;  and 
suffer  persecution  rather  than  sacrifice  con- 
science. 

Would  you  exercise  Christian  candour  and 
forbearance  1  This  is  your  only  opportunity. 
Here  alone  you  can  prove  whether  you  can 
love  those  who  differ  from  you  in  opinion ; 
whether  you  can  bear  with  the  mistakes  and 
infirmities  of  your  brethren ;  whether  you  can 
pass  by  a  transgression ;  whether  you  can  do 
good  to  them  that  hate  you. 

Would  you  exercise  beneficence — that  be- 
neficence which  gives  you  such  a  resemblance 
to  the  Saviour,  and  which  the  Judge  will  so 
honourably  mention  in  the  great  (lay  1  This 
is  your  only  opportunity.  The  poor  will  not 
be  always  with  you.  Here  alone  you  can  re- 
lieve the  needy,  sympathize  with  the  misera- 
ble, refresh  the  bowels  of  the  saints,  visit  the 
fatherless  and  the  widows  in  their  affliction. 
Here  alone  you  can  become  Howards  and 
Thorntons.  There  are  no  almoners  to  em- 
ploy, no  prisons  to  explore,  in  the  world  above. 
Had  these  illustrious  names  passed  through 
life  like  too  many  even  among  Christians; 
they  could  never  have  obtained  the  renown 
which  will  now  follow  them  througli  eter- 
nity. 

Would  you  discover  zeal  in  the  cause  of 
your  Lord  and  Master  1  This  is  your  only 
opportunity.  Here  alone  you  can  recom- 
mend a  Saviour,  and  tell  of  his  love  to  sin- 
ners; here  alone  you  can  "  teach  transgress- 
ors his  ways,"  and  "  save  a  soul  from  death." 
If  therefore  you  wish  to  do  good  ;  begin — em- 
ploy this  influence ;  secure  this  hour — suffer 
this  opportunity  to  elapse,  and  regret  is  vain; 
your  loss  is  irrecoverable. 

II.  Such  is  the  importance  of  human  life 


146 


SERMON  XXVI. 


— if  we  appeal  to  the  testimony  of  Scripture 
— if  we  consider  it  as  the  workmanship  of 
God — if  we  view  it  in  relation  to  eternity 
— and  in  connexion  with  our  fellow-creatures ; 
as  the  only  season  of  getting-  good  and  doing 
good.  And  is  this  a  curious  speculation  ! 
Nothing  is  more  instructive  and  edifying. 
Let  us  specify  some  of  those  useful  infer- 
ences which  flow  from  the  belief  of  it- 
First.  If  life  be  so  valuable,  we  should  de- 
plore the  destruction  of  it.  When  an 
earthquake  swallows  up  a  city ;  when  a  ves- 
sel sinks  and  buries  eight  hundred  souls  in 
one  watery  grave ;  when  a  house  is  destroy- 
ed, and  several  individuals  are  consumed  in 
the  flames ;  when  an  individual  is  murdered 
in  our  neighbourhood — we  are  impressed 
with  the  relation — but  we  think  less  of  the 
ravages  of  war,  and  therefore  do  not  grieve 
as  we  ought  over  the  unhappy  tendencies 
there  are  in  nations  to  wage  it.  But  what 
makes  such  desolations  in  the  earth  as  this 
evil !  We  pass  by  the  ruins  of  buildings,  and 
gardens,  and  fields — we  overlook  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  brute  creation,  especially  of  the 
generous  horse — and  think  only  of  men — of 
the  numbers  who  are  dismembered  and  made 
useless — of  the  numbers  killed  immediately 
in  action — of  the  numbers  which  perish  of 
their  wounds,  and  by  exposure,  disease,  pri- 
vations, hardships.  War  has  sometimes  oc- 
casioned famine,  and  a  famine  has  been  fol- 
lowed with  pestilence.  There  is  no  way  to 
affect  the  mind  properly  with  this  subject, 
but  by  thinking  of  the  value  of  Human  Life. 
But  is  it  possible  to  estimate  a  single  life  ; 
to  consider  the  difficulty  and  expense  of  rear- 
ing it ;  to  think  how  variously  it  is  connected 
with  others;  to  how  many  it  is  either  dear  or 
needful ;  to  remember  what  it  is  to  the  indi- 
vidual himself,  his  only  hour — and  not  enter 
into  the  feelings  of  the  prophet,  "  My  bowels, 
my  bowels  !  I  am  pained  at  my  very  heart :  my 
heart  maketh  a  noise  in  me.  I  cannot  hold 
my  peace,  because  thou  hast  heard,  O  my 
soul,  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the  alarm  of 
war."  Who  does  not  tremble ;  who  does  not 
weep ;  and  who  does  not  pray  for  the  period, 
"  when  He  shall  judge  among  the  nations, 
and  shall  rebuke  many  people:  and  they 
shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares,  and 
their  spears  into  pruning-hooks :  nation  shall 
not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall 
they  learn  war  any  more."  "  They  shall  not 
hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy  mountain  ; 
for  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  Lord,  as  the  waters  cover  the  seas." 
For  the  prevailing  influence  of  Christianity 
can  alone  accomplish  this  desirable  purpose 
— not  visionary  schemes  of  philosophy,  or 
new  theories  and  modifications  of  civil  policy, 
under  which  the  depraved  passions  of  human 
nature  remain  the  same,  and  from  which 
come  wars  and  fightings  among  us. 

Secondly.    If  human  life  be  so  precious, 


you  should  not  expose  it  to  injury  and  ha- 
zard. I  know  that  there  is  no  cure  for  mortali- 
ty— but  a  physician  of  no  common  reputation 
has  told  us,  that  not  one  in  a  thousand  dies 
a  natural  death :  and  a  higher  authority  has 
declared,  that  the  wicked  shall  not  live  out 
half  their  days.  In  many  ways  persons  may 
be  chargeable  with  suicide  besides  swallow- 
ing poison,  acting  the  madman  in  a  duel,  or 
playing  the  fool  in  a  balloon.  Life  may  be 
taken  away  slowly  as  well  as  suddenly,  by 
negligence  as  well  as  by  violence.  What 
think  you  of  the  man  who  indulges  himself 
in  the  excesses  of  intemperance,  w  hich  breed 
and  nourish  all  manner  of  diseases  1  What 
think  you  of  the  man  who  harbours  evil  pas- 
sions, and  suffers  anger  to  burn  him,  envy  to 
gnaw  him,  anxiety  to  corrode  him  1  What 
think  you  of  the  man  who  by  pursuing  too 
much  business  oppresses  nature,  injures  his 
faculties,  deprives  himself  of  rest  and  relax- 
ation, and  ease  ! — He  forgets  that  "  the  life  is 
more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment." 
What  think  you  of  those  who,  to  amass  mo- 
ney, will  deny  themselves  the  conveniences 
and  necessaries  of  life !  What  think  you  of 
those  martyrs  of  vanity,  who  to  appear  in  the 
fashion  will  avail  themselves  of  modes  of  ap- 
parel, I  will  not  say  incompatible  with  de- 
cency, but  hazardous  to  health  !  What  think 
you  of  those  who  carelessly  or  presumptuous- 
ly disregard  the  beginnings  of  disorder,  and 
suffer  that  which  might  be  easily  checked  at 
first,  to  become  inveterate  and  fatal  I  "  A  lit- 
tle cold,"  says  an  original  writer,  "  is  a  little 
death;  a  little  more  chills  us  to  clay,  and 
fits  us  for  the  damps  of  the  grave."  Wha" 
think  you  of  those  who  lie  long  and  late  in 
bed ;  relaxing  the  fibres,  unstringing  the 
nerves,  evaporating  the  animal  spirits  till 
they  start  from  their  own  shadow  ?  We  would 
not  have  you  finical  and  delicate — But  a  pro- 
per regard  to  health  is  a  duty  enforced  by  the 
most  awful  considerations. 

Thirdly.  If  life  be  so  worthy  of  our  regard, 
we  should  be  thankful  for  the  continu- 
ance of  it.  And  where  is  the  person  who 
is  not  called  to  adore  the  Preserver  of  men  1 
To  how  many  accidents  are  we  exposed ! 
How  many  seeds  of  corruption  are  lodged  in 
our  bodies,  which  ripened  by  a  change  in  the 
air  may  prove  malignant,  and  bring  forth  fruit 
unto  death!  How  delicate  is  the  human 
frame  !  We  are  crushed  before  the  moth. 
How  exquisitely  fine,  and  how  easily  destroy- 
ed is  the  system  of  the  brain,  upon  which  the 
exercise  of  reason  depends !  How  soon  may 
the  eye  be  injured,  through  which  so  much  of 
our  pleasure  passes ! 

"  Our  life  contains  a  thousand  springs, 

"  And  dies  if  one  be  gone ; 
"Strange  that  a  harp  of  thousand  strings 

"  Should  keep  in  tune  so  long '" 

And  has  thine?  Have  thy  limbs,  thy  senses, 
thy  faculties  been  secured!  Have  you  seen 


SERMON  XXVI. 


147 


many  who  were  younger,  and  stronger,  and 
more  likely  to  live  than  yourselves,  cut  oft'] 
Have  some  of  you,  when  led  down  to  the  mouth 
of  the  grave  yourselves,  been  recalled  1 — Say, 
Lord  !  for  what  purpose  am  I  spared  ?  Shall 
it  be  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  my  iniquities; 
or  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  to 
seek  for  glory,  honour,  and  immortality  1  "  The 
living,  the  living,  he  shall  praise  thee,  as  I  do 
this  day :  the  father  to  the  children  shall  make 
known  thy  truth." 

Fourthly.  If  life  be  of  so  much  consequence, 
Christians,  however  well  assured  of  heaven, 

SHOULD  NOT  BE  IMPATIENT  FOR  DEATH.  Elijah 

and  Jonah  prayed  to  have  their  lives  taken 
from  them ;  supposing  it  was  better  for  them 
to  die  than  to  live — but  they  were  both  blam- 
ed for  it.  "  For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  to  himself ;  for  whether  we 
live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  whether  we 
die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord  :  whether  we  live 
therefore  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's."  "  All 
the  days  of"  our  "  appointed  time  we  must 
wait  till"  our  "  change  comes."  We  are  en- 
listed into  the  service  of  Divine  Providence, 
and  if  we  attempt  to  withdraw  before  we  are 
honourably  discharged,  we  are  no  better  than 
deserters.  The  best  frame  you  can  be  in,  is 
to  be  ready  to  go,  but  willing  to  stay  if  the 
Lord  has  any  work  for  you  to  do,  any  trials 
for  you  to  bear.  And  instead  of  complaining, 
you  should  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  God,  who 
knows  what  is  best  for  you,  and  be  even 
thankful  that  by  prolonging  your  continuance 
here,  he  gives  additional  opportunities  to  ex- 
ercise your  grace,  to  extend  your  usefulness, 
and  to  add  fresh  jewels  to  your  crown. 
Fifthly.  If  life  be  so  momentous,  we  may 

CONGRATULATE  THE  PIOUS  YOUTH.  He  loses 

little  of  this  blessing ;  he  early  begins  to  use 
the  talent:  while  others  sleep  he  is  awake, 
and  has  the  advantage  in  the  way  everlasting, 
of  time  and  vigour  to  advance  from  strength 
to  strength  and  from  glory  to  glory.  Should 
he  die  before  age  has  snowed  upon  his  head, 
he  will  not  have  lived  in  vain  ;  for  the  esti- 
mate of  life  is  to  be  taken  from  action,  and 
not  from  years.  Should  his  days  be  prolonged, 
his  hoary  head  will  be  a  crown  of  glory,  be- 
cause it  will  be  found  in  the  way  of  righteous- 
ness ;  and  he  will  come  to  the  grave  like  a 
shock  of  corn  fully  ripe  in  his  seasom — But, 
oh  !  how  dismal  is  the  state  of  an  old  sinner  ! 
He  looks  back,  and  sees  only  barrenness  or 
crimes ;  he  is  going  to  resign  into  the  hands 
of  his  Creator  and  his  Judge  a  life,  every  part 
of  which  he  has  neglected,  or  abused.  In- 
stead of  laying  up  treasure  in  heaven,  he  has 
been  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day  of 
wrath  ;  and  instead  of  doing  good,  he  has  been 
doing  evil ;  instead  of  being  a  blessing,  he 
has  proved  a  curse  to  mankind  ; — and  instead 
of  being  received  into  everlasting  habitations 
by  those  he  has  made  his  friends,  he  will  en- 
ter hell  among  the  execrations  of  those  whose 


minds  he  poisoned,  and  whose  manners  he 
depraved. 

Finally.  If  life  be  so  important,  let  it  not 

BE  A  PRICE  IN  THE  HAND  OF  FOOLS  Leam  to 

improve  it. — And  here,  my  brethren,  suffer 
the  word  of  exhortation.  Perhaps  you  may 
be  surprised  to  hear  me  dissuade  you — from 
living  a  diabolical  life.  But  what  does  the 
devil  !  He  "sinneth  from  the  beginning." 
By  sowing  the  seeds  of  error,  by  spreading 
snares  for  the  heedless,  by  laying  stumbling- 
blocks  for  the  blind,  by  introducing  misery 
into  families  and  communities — you  resemble 
him,  and  are  workers  together  with  the  enemy 
of  God  and  man. 

Do  not  live  a  mere  animal  life.  If  you 
suppose  that  life  was  given  you  only  to  make 
provision  for  the  flesh,  only  to  pursue  what- 
ever flatters  the  senses  and  appetites  ;  if  you 
suppose  that  your  Creator  had  no  higher  aim 
in  making  you  what  you  are  than  the  sublime 
purposes  of  sleep  and  digestion — associate 
with  your  brethren  in  the  field,  and  say,  as 
you  join  them,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
morrow we  die." 

Do  not  live  a  worldly  life,  or  think  that 
the  design  of  God  in  placing  you  here  is  an- 
swered by  a  succession  of  trifles,  ceremonies, 
and  dissipations ;  by  gaining  a  ribbon,  by 
amassing  a  fortune,  or  acquiring  an  estate. 

Do  not  live  an  idle  life.  Rouse  up  all  thy 
powers,  call  forth  all  thy  diligence.  Let  life 
be  a  school  of  wisdom,  a  field  of  action,  a  ca- 
reer of  usefulness  and  glory.  "  Be  not  sloth- 
ful, but  followers  of  them  who  through  faith 
and  patience  now  inherit  the  promises.  Imi- 
tate, above  all,  the  example  of  Him  who  lived 
in  every  action, — who  went  about  doing  good. 
And  remember  that  he  came  not  only  that  we 
might  have  life,  but  that  we  might  have  it 
more  abundantly.  From  him  are  to  be  derived 
principles  and  motives  and  assistances  the 
most  influential — His  doctrines,  his  commands, 
his  promises  are  all  enlivening :  while  the  Spi- 
rit he  gives  frees  us  from  every  low  sentiment, 
elevates  the  mind,  expands  the  affections,  invi- 
gorates every  power,  and  raising  the  soul  above 
every  thing  visible  and  earthly,  and  recruits  it 
with  eternal  life.  Of  thy  precious  time  prosti- 
tute none,  waste  none.  Some  who  would  not 
think  of  throwing  away  life  at  once,  make  no 
scruple  to  do  it  piecemeal :  they  can  sacrifice 
the  smaller  portions  of  time  without  remorse. 
But  never  live  a  week  in  vain ;  have  some- 
thing in  the  close  of  it  for  the  reviewing  eye 
to  fix  upon,  something  for  God,  for  your  fel- 
low-creatures, for  yourselves.  Prize  every 
day.  Value  every  hour  ;  mark  it  with 
something  worthy  of  reflection  :  if  you  can- 
not stop  your  moments,  send  them  off'  laden 
with  all  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  which  are 
by  Jesus  Christ  to  the  glory  and  praise  of 
God.  Live  by  rule  ;  fix  your  end,  derived  in 
the  presence  of  God  from  the  grand  purposes 
of  life ;  render  every  thing  conducive  to  it. 


148 


SERMON  XXVI. 


Thus  you  will  live  like  men ;  thus  you  will 
live  like  Christians ;  thus  you  will  live  like  the 
heirs  of  immortality  ;  thus  you  will  live  "the 
life  of  God." 

But  it  becomes  you  to  live  thus  immediate- 
ly. "  Whatsoever  thy  hand  tindeth  to  do, 
do  it  with  thy  might ;  for  there  is  no  work, 
nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom,  in 
the  grave  whither  thou  goest."  Your  season 
elapsed,  can  never  be  recalled.  When  a  few 
years  are  come,  you  will  go  the  way  whence 
you  shall  not  return — No,  you  will  not  return 
to  hear  calls  of  repentance  and  offers  of  mercy  : 
no,  you  will  not  return  to  employ  means,  and 
to  improve  opportunities  of  usefulness.  Your 
friend  sleeps,  and  you  go  and  awake  him  ;  he 
dies,  and  you  call  him  in  vain.  You  go  and 
produce  verdure  on  his  grave,  but  all  within 
is  rottenness.  The  tree  despoiled  of  its  hon- 
our by  winter,  spring  will  re-adorn.  "  There  is 
hope  of  a  tree,  if  it  be  cut  down,  that  it  will 
sprout  again,  and  that  the  tender  branch  there- 
of will  not  cease;  though  the  root  thereof 
wax  old  in  the  earth,  and  the  stock  thereof 
die  in  the  ground,  yet  through  the  scent  of 
water  it  will  bud,  and  bring  forth  boughs  like 
a  plant:  but  man  dieth  and  wasteth  away; 
yea,  man  giveth  up  the  ghost,  and  where  is 
he  1  As  the  waters  fail  from  the  sea,  and  the 
flood  decayeth  and  drieth  up :  so  man  lieth 
down,  and  riseth  not  till  the  heavens  be  no 
more ;  they  shall  not  awake,  nor  be  raised  out 
of  their  sleep."  And  this  season  is  rapidly 
hastening  to  a  close :  you  are  perpetually  re- 
minded of  it.  Every  day  you  see  man  going 
to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners  going 
about  the  streets.  Your  connexions  die. 
"  The  fathers,  where  are  they  t  and  the  pro- 
phets, do  they  live  for  ever !'?  Even  this  In- 
stitution, since  the  annual  assembly,  has  been 
deprived  of  the  distinguished  Secretary  of  the 
Corresponding  Board* — and  I  mention  this  the 
more  freely,  as,  dying  in  our  neighbourhood, 
I  saw  him  a  few  days  only  before  his  depart- 
ure ;  and  the  last  subject  of  our  conversation 
was  the  business  in  which  we  are  now  en- 
gaged. Nothing  lay  nearer  his  heart  than 
the  prosperity  of  this  establishment,  and  his  ta- 
lents have  been  often  employed  in  recommend- 
ing it — And  who  could  recommend  like  him  ? 
But  the  voice  which  made  you  thrill;  the 
imagination  which  was  equally  capable  of 
beauty  and  grandeur ;  those  powers  of  com- 
bination and  expansion ;  those  faculties  which 
could  so  justly  discriminate,  so  distinctly  de- 
lineate, so  richly  embellish,  so  deeply  impress 
— are  all  silent  in  the  grave !  And  we  are  fol- 
lowing— "  Perhaps  this  is  the  last  year,  the 
last  month,  the  last  week  in  which  I  can  glo- 
rify my  Redeemer,  and  be  serviceable  to  those 
around  me.  What  then  have  I  done]  What 
am  I  doing  ?  What  can  I  do  1  Does  my  fami- 
ly claim  my  attention  ?  Do  children  depend 


upon  me  for  instruction  1  Do  neighbours  re- 
quire kind  offices  of  relief!  Does  my  country 
demand  my  exertions  ?  Can  I  aid  in  establish- 
ing seminaries,  in  maintaining  the  worship  of 
God,  in  spreading  the  Gospel  1 — Hinder  me 
not.  I  must  work  the  work  of  Him  that  sent 
me  while  it  is  day ;  the  night  cometh  where- 
in no  man  can  work." 

If  this  be  your  sentiment  and  language,  I 
need  not  be  afraid  to  bring  forward  a  case 
which  in  general  terms  I  have  already  an- 
nounced, but  of  which  it  will  be  necessary  to 
give  you  more  particular  information.  It 
can  hardly  be  expected,  however,  that  in  the 
close  of  a  sermon  we  should  furnish  you  with 
a  minute  statement  of  things  appertaining  to 
a  Charity  so  long  established,  so  comprehen- 
sive in  its  plan,  and  so  successful  in  its  efforts. 
This  is  the  less  needful,  as  an  account  is  al- 
ways annexed  to  the  annual  sermon. 

The  Society  in  Scotland  for  the  Pro- 
pagation of  Christian  Knowledge  has 
struck  its  influence  across  the  Atlantic,  and 
North  America  has  been  blessed  with  its  mis- 
sionaries, of  which  the  celebrated  Brainerd 
was  one.  But  the  principal  sphere  of  its  ac- 
tivity are  parts  of  its  own  country.  No  situa- 
tion could  have  required  it  more.  In  the 
lower  parts  of  Scotland,  the  poor  are  generally 
superior  to  the  peasantry  in  any  other  country 
both  as  to  education  and  morality.  But  it  was 
far  otherwise  with  the  more  northern  districts 
— the  Highlands  and  Islands.  There  the  in- 
habitants were  found  in  a  state  of  total  igno- 
rance, barbarism,  and  superstition.  Their 
situation  was  remote — and  not  easily  approach- 
ed for  mountains,  rivers,  arms  of  the  sea,  a 
stormy  ocean.  They  had  no  books — and  few 
of  them  could  read.  Their  language*  was 
unintelligible  to  the  rest  of  their  countrymen. 
The  feudal  dominion  under  which  they  lived 
was  unfavourable  to  the  increase  of  know- 
ledge. They  were  indeed  divided  into  pa- 
rishes ;  but  some  of  these  were  forty  and  even 
sixty  miles  in  extent,  with  only  one  church 
and  one  school.  From  these  the  majority  of 
the  inhabitants  could  derive  no  advantage. 
The  fewness  of  the  Protestant  Clergy  and 
the  scarcity  of  Protestant  instruction  could  not 
expel  the  mischief  of  Popery  ;  Popery  there- 
fore prevailed. 

The  Society,  formed  originally  for  the  re- 
formation of  manners,  soon  turned  their  eye 
towards  these  dreary  regions,  and  determined 
to  employ  their  influence  to  teach  the  igno- 
rant, to  civilize  the  rude,  to  evangelize  the 
heathen,  and  to  emancipate  the  superstitious — 
among  those  who  were  not  only  connected 
with  them  as  partakers  of  human  nature,  but 
as  fellow-citizens  and  members  of  the  same 
empire.  The  way  by  which  they  wished  to 
penerate  was — by  establishing  and  endowing 
schools — by  employing  catechists  and  mis- 


Rev.  Henry  Hunter,  D.  D. 


*A  dialect  of  the  ancient  Celtic. 


SERMON  XXVI. 


149 


sionaries — and  by  distributing1  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures.   The  effect  has  been  answerable  to  the 
excellency  of  the  design. — Compare  now  the 
inhabitants  with  the  Irish,  derived  from  the 
the  same  stock,  originally  speaking  the  same 
language,  distinguished  by  the  same  manners 
and  arms.    We  have  lately  seen  in  the  lat- 
ter the  dreadful  effects  of  ignorant  and  cruel 
bigotry — while  the  former  have  appeared 
peaceful  citizens,  loyal  subjects,  able  defend- 
ers of  their  country.    Compare  their  present 
condition  and  character  with  their  former  ha- 
bits and  circumstances.    They  were  bands  of 
robbers,  following  the  war-hoop  of  any  chief- 
tain, often  invading  their  southern  neighbours 
— and  it  is  not  a  century  ago,  since  by  their  ir- 
ruption they  spread  alarm  even  to  the  very 
metropolis.   Now,  good  order,  decency,  indus- 
try, comfortable  subsistence,  and  "the  influ- 
ence of  a  mild  and  enlightened  religion,"  are 
everywhere  visible ;  and  through  any  of  these 
parts  a  person  may  travel,  unarmed  and  in  the 
night,  with  perfect  safety.    Now — it  is  not 
pretended  that  this  happy  amelioration  has  been 
solely  accomplished  by  this  institution — but 
this  lias  from  the  beginning  been  the  aim,  and 
in  no  common  degree  the  effect  of  its  opera- 
tions. The  number  of  those  who  from  the  ori- 
gin of  it  have  been  blessed  by  this  noble  Chari- 
ty, both  in  their  temporal  and  spiritual  circum- 
stances, would  appear  incredible.    It  has  now 
above  three  hundred  teachers,  and  nearly 
sixty  thousand  persons  are  daily  deriving  in- 
struction from  it.     Though  the  resources  of 
the  institution  be  great,  and  every  thing  be 
managed  with  singular  ceconomy,  the  expen- 
diture equals  the  receipts.    The  Society  is 
even  compelled  to  limit  its  efforts,  and  some- 
times obliged  to  refuse  petitions.     I  have 
an  additional  circumstance  to  mention.  The 
Society  has  undertaken  to  publish  a  new  edi- 
tion of  the  Old  Testament  in  Gaelic.  The 
object  is  of  desirable  importance — this  lan- 
guage is  spoken  by  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  of  your  fellow-subjects — and  who 
would  not  wish  them  to  have  the  Word  of 
God  in  their  native  tongue — who  would  not 
lament  that  any  should  be  willing  to  read  the 
Scriptures,  and  not  have  the  Scriptures  to 
read?  At  length  this  great  work  is  complet-. 


ed,  and  the  translation  of  the  whole  Bible  is 
furnished  to  the  inhabitants.  The  expense 
has  been  above  three  thousand  pounds. 
Hence  the  Society  requires  extraordinary 
aid,  and  looks  forward  this  year  with  higher 
expectations  than  usual  to  the  London  Collec- 
tion ;  and  shall  they  be  disappointed? 

My  brethren,  it  is  a  smal  1  sacrifice  we  de- 
mand of  you.  You  are  not  called  to  weari- 
some journeys,  laborious  exertions,  self-deny- 
ing services — the  trying  part  of  the  work  is 
disinterestedly  executed  by  others. — And  with 
regard  to  you,  we  only  crave  a  little  of  your 
abundance.  I  know  you  have  it  in  the  power 
of  your  hand. — If  you  say,  claims  of  this  kind 
are  perpetually  renewed — remember  how 
much  you  owe  to  religion ;  how  much  it  has 
saved  you  in  cutting  off  expensive  vices  and 
amusements — and  in  making  you  industrious 
and  frugal  and  liberal — for  giving  is  the  way 
to  thriving.  Besides,  your  property  was  gi- 
ven you  for  this  very  purpose,  and  a  time  is 
hastening  on  when  the  design  and  the  appli- 
cation of  your  wealth  will  be  compared  to- 
gether— may  you  be  enabled  to  give  up  your 
account  with  joy,  and  not  with  grief. 

But  you  will  not  be  backward  to  do  good 
and  to  communicate.  I  have  a  full  confidence 
of  success,  derived  not  from  the  abilities  of 
the  speaker,  but  the  dispositions  of  the  hear- 
ers. I  know  many  in  this  large  assembly; 
and  I  know  that  they  cannot  be  unmoved  at 
the  prospect  of  usefulness  ;  they  cannot  be  in- 
different to  the  welfare  of  the  rising  genera- 
tion ;  they  cannot  be  unconcerned  for  the 
safety  and  prosperity  of  their  beloved  country ; 
they  cannot  be  insensible  to  the  progress  of 
that  Kingdom,  which  is  righteousness  and 
peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. — They  have 
tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious  themselves, 
and  wish  others  to  partake  of  the  same  bless- 
edness. They  have  been  called  out  of  dark- 
ness into  marvellous  light — and  are  now  de- 
termined to  shew  forth  the  praises  of  their  De- 
liverer.— "  His  Name  shall  endure  for  ever ; 
his  Name  shall  be  continued  as  long  as  the  sun ; 
and  men  shall  be  blessed  in  him ;  all  nations 
shall  call  him  blessed.  And  blessed  be  his  glo- 
rious Name  for  ever  ;  and  let  the  whole  earth 
be  filled  with  his  glory ;  Amen  and  Amen. 


THE  END. 


13* 


MISCELLANIES: 

COMPRISING 

SERMONS,  DISCOURSES,  ESSAYS, 

ETC.  ETC. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


Memoirs  of  the  late  Reverend  Comeliua  Winter..  5 
Part  t 

His  own  Account  of  himself   9 

Part  II. 

Chap.  I.     His  Life  continued   54 

Cuap.  II.   His  Sickness  and  Death.   58 

Chap.  III.  Views  of  his  Character.  -   62 

Chap.  IV.  General  Remarks   88 

Part  III. 

Chap.  I.   Extracts  from  his  Diary   93 

Chap.  II.  A  Selection  of  his  Letters   97 

Slemoirs  of  the  late  Rev.  John  Clark   113 

Preface  to  the  Life  of  Mrs.  Savage   154 

Prayer  for  the  Success  of  the  Gospel :  A  Sermon. .  158 

The  Mutual  Duties  of  Husbands  and  Wives:  A 
Sermon   166 

Reflections  on  Victory :  A  Sermon   177 

An  Essay  on  Marriage,  or,  The  Duty  of  Christians 
to  marry  religiously   185 


Page 

An  Address  delivered  at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev. 


William  Humphryes,  of  Hammersmith  195 

The  Jubilee :  A  Sermon   198 

The  Minister's  Request:  A  Discourse  205 

Consolation  in  Death:  A  Sermon   213 

The  Loss  of  Connexions  deplored  and  improved  : 
A  Sermon  '■   224 

The  Importance  of  an  Evangelical  Ministry:  A 
Sermon   234 

The  Hand  of  God  in  Afflictions:  A  Sermon  243 

An  Attempt  to  regulate  the  Claims  of  the  Chris- 
tian Ministry:  A  Sermon  252 

Anxiety  directed :  A  Sermon  263 

Friendship  in  Death:  A  Discourse  274 

A  Charge,  intended  to  have  been  addressed  to  the 
Wife  of  a  Minister,  at  the  Ordination  of  her 
Husband   285 

The  Wife's  Advocate:  A  Sermon  302 


3 


MEMOIRS 

OF  THE  I/ATE 

REV.  CORNELIUS  WINTER. 


TO  THE  NUMEROUS  FRIENDS  OF  THE  REV.  CORNELIUS  WINTER,  IN 
GENERAL;  AND  TO  JOHN  LEE,  ESQUIRE,  IN  PARTICULAR, 

As  one  whose  regard  for  the  deceased  was  only  equalled  by  the  regard 
of  the  deceased  for  him:  this  Narrative  is  respectfully  dedicated  by 

The  Editor. 


PREFACE. 


Before  a  work  professedly  biographical  can  be  righteously  justified  or  condemned,  two 
things  should  be  fairly  examined.  First — What  advantages  are  derived  from  the  lives  of 
particular  individuals  ]  Secondly — What  characters  are  the  most  proper  subjects  for  de- 
lineation t 

The  former  of  these  questions  it  is  easy  to  answer.  Biography  has  always  been  highly 
extolled.  It  has  frequently  been  compared  with  other  kinds  of  composition,  and  pronounced 
peculiarly  entertaining  and  instructive.  The  utility  of  it  has  been  even  ranked  above  the 
advantages  resulting  from  general  history. 

Let  us  attend  to  this  preference,  and  see  whether  it  be  not  founded  in  reason  and  truth. 
— The  aim  of  all  history  should  be  to  describe  and  exhibit  persons  impartially  as  they  are, 
that  goodness  may  excite  admiration,  and  vice  abhorrence.  Upon  this  principle,  individual 
representations  are  obviously  superior  to  general  and  aggregate.  When  the  attention  is  at- 
tracted and  confined  to  one  particular  object,  the  view  is  more  distinct,  and  the  impression  is 
more  forcible.  Expansion  and  division  weaken.  Multiplicity  and  variety  distract.  This 
may  be  judged  of,  says  a  masterly  writer,  by  the  feelings  and  operations  of  the  mind  in  the 
contemplation  of  other  things. — "  When  from  the  summit  of  some  lofty  mountain,  we  survey 
the  wide  extended  landscape ;  though  highly  delighted,  we  feel  ourselves  bewildered  and 
overwhelmed  by  the  profusion  and  diversity  of  beauties  which  nature  spreads  around  us. 
But  when  we  enter  the  detail  of  nature :  when  we  attend  the  footsteps  of  a  friend  through 
some  favoured,  beautiful  spot,  which  the  eye  and  the  mind  take  in  at  once ;  feeling  ourselves 
at  ease,  with  undivided,  undistracted  attention  we  contemplate  the  whole,  we  examine  and 
arrange  the  parts ;  the  imagination  is  indeed  less  expanded,  but  the  heart  is  more  gratified ; 
our  pleasure  is  less  violent  and  tumultuous,  but  it  is  more  intense,  more  complete,  and  con- 
tinues much  longer ;  what  is  lost  in  respect  of  sublimity,  is  gained  in  perspicuity,  force,  and 
duration."  Again.  "It  is  highly  gratifying  to  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a  public 
assembly  of  agreeable  people  of  botli  sexes,  and  to  partake  of  the  general  cheerfulness  and 
benevolence.  But  what  are  the  cheerfulness  and  benevolence  of  a  public  assembly,  compared 
to  the  endearments  of  friendship,  and  the  meltings  of  love  1  To  enjoy  these,  we  must  retire 
from  the  crowd,  and  have  recourse  to  the  individual.  In  like  manner,  whatever  satisfaction 
and  improvement  may  be  derived  from  general  histories  of  mankind,  which  we  would  not 
be  thought  by  any  means  to  depreciate ;  yet  the  history  of  particular  persons,  if  executed 
with  fidelity  and  skill,  while  it  exercises  the  judgment  less  severely,  so  it  fixes  down  the 
attention  more  closely,  and  makes  its  way  more  directly  and  more  forcibly  to  the  heart." 

To  this  quotation,  the  beauty  of  which  will  more  than  atone  for  the  length,  we  may  add, 
that  biography  is  the  most  eagerly  read  of  all  kinds  of  narrative  productions,  and  the  most 
easily  applied  to  the  various  purposes  of  life. 

1*  5 


w 

6  PREFACE. 

But  it  is  less  necessary  to  enlarge  upon  the  advantages  of  this  species  of  writing,  than  to 
ascertain  what  are  the  most  proper  subjects  to  bring  under  review. 

— They  are  by  no  means  persons  raised  to  the  highest  elevations,  or  distinguished  by  the 
most  extraordinary  achievements.  For,  not  to  observe  that  such  characters  are  rarely  re- 
markable for  goodness  and  worth,  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  they  fall  not  within  the  reach  of 
common  imitation — that  they  exhibit  nothing  that  leads  to  self-reflection — nothing  that  occa- 
sions moral  comparison — nothing  to  reprove,  to  stimulate,  to  encourage  in  the  course  we 
pursue :  they  seem  to  belong  to  a  state  with  which  we  have  nothing  to  do :  and  therefore, 
though  they  excite  curiosity,  and  furnish  materials  for  conversation,  they  do  not  govern  our 
manners,  or  regulate  our  practice.  How  few  are  placed  in  situations  in  which  they  are 
likely  to  grow  wiser,  by  the  errors  of  a  statesman,  or  the  mistakes  of -a  general!  "Life," 
says  Johnson,  "  derives  its  comforts  or  wretchedness  from  the  management  of  these  things, 
which  nothing  but  their  frequency  makes  considerable,  and  which  can  have  no  place  in  the 
relations  ofthose,  who  never  descend  below  the  consultations  of  senates,  and  the  motions  of 
armies." 

"  It  is  not,"  says  the  same  author,  "  improper  to  take  advantage  of  prejudice,  and  to  gain 
attention  by  a  celebrated  name ;  but  the  business  of  the  biographer  is  often  to  pass  slightly 
over  those  performances  and  incidents  which  promote  vulgar  greatness,  to  lead  the  thoughts 
into  domestic  privacies,  and  to  display  the  minute  detail  of  daily  life,  where  external  ap- 
pendages are  cast  aside,  and  men  excel  each  other  only  by  prudence  and  by  virtue.  There 
are  many  invisible  circumstances  which,  whether  we  read  as  inquirers  after  natural  or  moral 
knowledge,  are  more  important  than  public  occurrences.  Thus  the  story  of  Melancthon 
affords  a  striking  lecture  on  the  value  of  time,  by  informing  us  that  when  he  had  an  ap- 
pointment, he  expected  not  only  the  hour,  but  the  minute  to  be  fixed,  that  the  day  might  not 
run  out  in  the  idleness  of  suspense.  And  all  the  plans  and  enterprises  of  De  Witt,  are  now 
of  less  importance  to  the  world,  than  the  part  of  his  personal  character  which  represents 
him  as  careful  of  health,  and  negligent  of  life.  In  the  estimation  of  uncorrupt  reason,  what 
is  of  most  use  is  of  most  value.  Between  falsehood  and  useless  truth  there  is  little  difference. 
As  gold  which  he  cannot  spend,  will  make  no  man  rich,  so  knowledge  which  he  cannot 
apply,  will  make  no  man  wise." 

Neither  are  eccentric  characters  the  best  suited  to  instruct  and  impress.  These  can  be 
easily  made  to  awaken  notice,  and  therefore  their  lives  are  often  written  and  greedily  read  : 
but  as  the  former  subject  cannot  be  imitated,  so  these  ought  not.  Eccentricity  is  sometimes 
found  connected  with  genius,  but  it  does  not  coalesce  with  true  wisdom.  Hence  men  of 
the  first  order  of  intellect  have  never  betrayed  it ;  and  hence  also  men  of  secondary  talents 
drop  it  as  they  grow  wiser ;  and  are  satisfied  to  found  their  consequence  on  real  and  solid 
excellency,  not  on  peculiarity  and  extravagance.  They  are  content  to  awaken  regard,  and 
obtain  applause  by  the  rectitude  and  gracefulness  of  their  going,  rather  than  to  make  pas- 
sengers stare  and  laugh  by  leaping  over  the  wall,  or  tumbling  along  the  road.  True  great- 
ness is  serious :  trifling  is  beneath  its  dignity.  We  are  more  indebted  to  the  regular,  sober, 
constant  course  of  the  sun,  than  to  the  glare  of  the  comet:  the  one  indeed,  occupies  our 
papers,  but  the  other  enriches  our  fields  and  gardens ;  we  gaze  at  the  strangeness  of  the 
one,  but  we  live  by  the  influence  of  the  other. 

For  the  purposes  of  biography,  those  lives  are  the  most  eligible  that  are  the  most  imitable ; 
and  these  are  derived  from  characters  that  belong  to  our  own  community,  that  are  found  in 
the  same  relations  and  conditions  with  ourselves ;  whose  circumstances  make  us  feel  for  the 
time  the  emotions  which  would  be  excited  by  the  same  good  or  evil  happening  to  ourselves ; 
whose  attainments,  while  they  resulted  from  the  Divine  blessing,  appear  not  to  have  been 
preternatural,  but  were  made  under  no  greater  advantages  than  our  own ;  whose  progress 
was  not  less  owing  to  the  stroke  of  the  oar,  than  the  favourableness  of  the  wind ;  whose 
excellences  while  they  do  not  discourage  us  by  their  perfection,  animate  us  by  their  degree ; 
whose  success  teaches  us,  not  how  to  be  great,  but  how  to  be  good  and  happy ;  whose  piety 
is  not  fluctuating,  but  steady ;  not  visionary,  but  producing  a  beautiful  correspondence  to  all 
the  claims  of  the  stations  in  which  they  are  placed. 

Those  lives  are  worthy  of  remark  that  exhibit  a  sameness  of  principle  in  diversified  circum- 
stances. For  the  changing  scenes  through  which  a  man  passes,  renders  his  history  at  once 
more  interesting  and  more  profitable :  they  revolve  his  character,  and  we  behold  it  succes- 
sively in  every  point  of  light. 

A  life  is  deserving  of  regard  that  has  filled  various  offices  and  relations,  and  has  been  ex- 
emplary in  each  of  them.  They  that  were  connected  with  him,  and  those  who  were  under 
his  care,  will  be  likely  to  remember  his  instructions  and  example ;  while  he  serves  as  a  mo- 
del for  others  who  are  called  to  move  in  the  same  direction  with  himself. 

Our  great  moralist  admires  a  life  in  which  a  man  is  his  own  biographer.  "  Those  rela- 
tions are  commonly  of  most  value  in  which  the  writer  tells  his  own  story.  He  that  recounts 
the  life  of  another,  commonly  dwells  most  upon  conspicuous  events,  lessens  the  familiarity 


PREFACE. 


7 


of  his  talc  to  increase  its  dignity,  shows  his  favourite  at  a  distance,  decorated  and  magnified 
like  the  ancient  actors  in  their  tragic  dress,  and  endeavours  to  hide  the  man,  that  he  may 
produce  a  hero.  But  if  it  be  true  which  was  said  by  a  French  prince,  that  no  man  was  a 
hero  to  the  servants  of  his  chamber ;  it  is  equally  true,  that  every  man  is  yet  less  a  hero  to 
himself  He  that  is  most  elevated  above  the  crowd  by  the  importance  of  his  employment, 
or  the  reputation  of  his  genius,  feels  himself  affected  by  fame  or  business,  but  as  they  in- 
fluence his  domestic  life.  The  high  and  low,  as  they  have  the  same  faculties  and  the  same 
senses,  have  no  less  similitude  in  their  pains  and  pleasures.  The  sensations  are  the  same  in 
all,  though  produced  by  different  occasions.  The  prince  feels  the  same  pain  when  an  in- 
vader seizes  a  province,  as  the  farmer  when  a  thief  drives  away  his  cow.  Men  thus  equal 
in  themselves,  will  appear  equal  in  honest  and  impartial  biography ;  and  those  whom  fortune 
or  nature  place  at  the  greatest  distance,  may  afford  instruction  to  each  other. 

"  The  writer  oNiis  own  life  has  at  least  the  first  qualification  of  an  historian,  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth ;  and  though  it  may  be  plausibly  objected,  that  his  temptations  to  disguise 
it,  are  equal  to  his  opportunities  of  knowing  it,  yet  I  cannot  but  think  that  impartiality  may  be 
expected  with  equal  confidence  from  him  that  relates  the  passages  of  his  own  life,  as  from 
him  that  delivers  the  tratisactions  of  another.  He  that  sits  down  calmly  and  voluntarily  to 
review  his  life  for  the  admonition  of  posterity,  or  to  amuse  himself,  and  leaves  this  account 
unpublished,  may  be  commonly  presumed  to  tell  truth,  since  falsehood  cannot  appease  his 
own  mind,  and  fame  will  not  be  heard  beneath  the  tomb. 

If  these  considerations  are  allowed,  I  am  fully  justified  in  having  wished  to  send  forth  the 
following  account  of  the  Rev.  Cornelius  Winter.  It  was  principally  written  by  himself.  He 
has  moved  in  a  variety  of  relative  situations.  His  life,  though  it  has  not  made  so  much  noise 
in  the  world  as  the  progress  of  some  others,  has  been  in  no  small  degree  diversified  and 
eventful ;  and  the  whole  has  been  in  a  liigh  degree,  holy,  benevolent,  and  useful. 

It  has  indeed  been  supposed,  that  the  delineation  of  very  eminent  examples  may  be  inju- 
rious to  persons  of  weak  and  tender  minds ;  and  that  the  sight  of  superiority  so  great,  will 
discourage  from  efforts  at  imitation.  Three  things  will  fully  answer  such  an  objection  as 
this.  First. — Though  persons  of  inferior  attainments  ought  to  be  encouraged,  they  ought 
not  to  be  flattered.  We  must  not  turn  the  cordials  of  the  Gospel  into  opiates ;  nor  lull  into 
satisfaction  with  themselves,  those  who  ought  to  be  roused  to  advance  and  excel.  Secondly. 
— It  is  well  to  have  a  good  copy,  however  imperfect  the  writing  may  be.  A  pattern  ought  to 
be  something  above  us ;  something  that  will  remind  us  of  deficiency,  and  animate  us  to 
diligence.  Thirdly. — The  sources  of  excellency  lie  open  to  us.  If  the  attainments  of  those 
we  commemorate  were  self-derived,  and  we  were  required  to  follow  them  in  our  own 
strength,  we  might  indeed  feel  discouraged  at  the  contemplation.  But  if  their  faith,  and 
hope,  and  love,  and  usefulness,  were  the  production  of  God's  own  Spirit — if  the  residue  of 
this  Spirit  is  with  him — and  he  has  said,  "  Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  you,  seek  and  ye  shall 
find" — none  need  despair.  By  the  grace  of  God  they  were  what  they  were  :  and  the  grace 
that  was  sufficient  for  them  is  equally  so  for  us.  We  should  therefore  be  strong  in  the 
grace  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus. 

But  some  may  imagine  we  have  spoken  too  highly  of  the  venerable  subject  of  the  follow- 
ing pages.  And  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  manner  in  which  works  of  biography 
have  been  frequently  executed,  has  rendered  a  suspicion  of  this  kind  too  natural.  So  often 
has  the  writer  been  the  eulogist  instead  of  the  historian,  that  the  mind  becomes  sceptical, 
and  takes  it  for  granted  that  if  fable  be  not  mixed  with  fact,  reality  is  embellished  by  de- 
scription, and  magnified  by  the  fondness  of  admiration.  There  is  also  peculiar  danger  that  a 
biographer  will  be  warped  into  partiality  and  exaggeration,  if  he  feels  very  powerfully  the 
sentiments  of  esteem  and  gratitude.  I  hope  my  readers  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe — 
that  I  sat  down  to  this  work  under  a  persuasion  of  the  truth  of  these  remarks,  and  aware  of 
the  danger  in  which  my  feelings  placed  me.  I  have  endeavoured  to  keep  myself  under  the 
eye  of  God — and  though  I  know  not  whether  there  has  been  a  wakeful  hour  since  his  death, 
in  which  I  have  not  thought  of  the  deceased,  or  that  I  have  written  a  page  concerning  him 
without  tears — for  tears  have  been  my  meat.* — I  am  confident  nothing  has  been  advanced 
in  the  representation  that  equals  the  original. 

Indeed  in  commendation  of  this  servant  of  God,  this  benefactor  of  man,  I  am  in  no  hazard 
of  contradiction  from  those  who  knew  him :  for  perhaps  seldom,  if  ever,  was  there  such  a 
harmony  of  sentiment  concerning  any  individual  before.  "  That  good  man"  was  the  manner 
in  which  he  was  always  introduced,  and  the  preface  to  every  thing  that  was  said  of  him. 

The  work  ought  to  have  been  better :  and  probably  would  have  been,  if  more  time  had 
been  allowed  by  the  importunity  of  friendship;  but  I  have  done  what  I  could  in  a  very  few 

*  "  When  Heaven  would  set  our  spirits  free, 
And  earth's  enchantment  end, 
It  takes  the  most  effectual  means, 
And  robs  us  of  a  friend."  Young. 


8 


PREFACE. 


weeks  of  frequent  interruption  and  indisposition.  The  toil  of  examining;  an  immense  num- 
ber of  letters  received  and  written  by  the  deceased,  and  the  perplexity  of  selecting  extracts, 
and  inserting  them  in  their  proper  place,  have  not  been  without  fatigue.  But  I  have  labour- 
ed with  pleasure,  and  rejoice  in  the  enterprise,  from  a  persuasion  that  what  I  have  written 
from  the  warmest  affection,  and  the  highest  regard  will  at  the  same  time  be  ratified  by  a 
large  proportion  of  the  public  voice  ;  and  that  I  am  doing  good  to  others  while  I  have  an 
opportunity  to  indulge  my  own  feelings,  and  to  acknowledge  the  obligations  to  my  dear 
and  honoured  friend  and  benefactor,  which  I  shall  never  be  able  to  discharge.  To  him  I 
owe  all  my  respectability  in  life,  and  all  my  opportunities  of  public  usefulness.  Though  not 
a  child  by  birth,  I  have  been  one  by  adoption;  and  close  this  Preface  by  a  line  borrowed 
from  Homer,  which  our  admired  Cowper,  with  some  little  variation,  inscribed  on  a  bust  of 
his  Grecian  favourite : 

11  liff  T£  -!TXTfV\  Ui  TTXtSt^  XSC»  85T0TJ,  XlJffC-jUotl  SCUTS." 

Ii)v'd  as  his  son,  in  him  I  early  found, 
A  father,  such  as  I  will  ne'er  forget. 

WILLIAM  JAY. 

Bath,  April  1, 1808. 

I 


MEMOIRS,  &c 


PART  I. 

HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT  OF  HIMSELF. 

The  following  letters  were  all  sent  in  the 
year  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine.  This  is  the  only  date  they  bear.  The 
Editor  deemed  it  proper  to  omit  a  few  very 
minute  passages  into  which  the  writer  had 
dropped,  perhaps  from  his  not  suspecting,  or 
his  not  remembering,  that  they  were  to  meet 
the  public  eye.  Some  who  were  unacquaint- 
ed with  the  deceased  may  think  that  more 
ought  to  have  been  suppressed :  but  they  who 
knew  him  will  readily  and  gladly  indulge 
him  in  a  little  amplitude  and  particularity, 
while  relating  his  own  story,  to  one  who 
would  naturally  feel  interested  in  the  detail 
of  the  whole. 


LETTER  L 
My  very  dear  friend, — You  have  taken 
frequent  occasion  to  testify  your  disposition 
to  preserve  our  long  established  friendship. 
It  commenced  by  the  good  providence  of 
God ;  it  has  hitherto  been  preserved  inviolate ; 
it  has  been  attended  with  reciprocal  advan- 
tages ;  it  has  given  you  the  claims  of  a  son, 
and  produced  in  me  the  tender  sensibility  of 
a  parent,  never  offended,  but  always  made 
happy  by  a  consistent,  uniform,  and  endear- 
ing conduct.  I  have  no  secret  that  I  would 
wish  to  conceal  from  you ;  there  is  no  instance 
in  which  I  can  oblige  you,  but  I  am  ready  to 
attend  to  it.  You  have  requested  to  see  my 
life  extended  to  this  period,  drawn  out  by  my 
own  hand ;  and  I  have  only  waited  for  a  fair 
opportunity  to  gratify  you.  Use  as  you 
please  what  I  communicate.  I  am  too  in- 
considerable to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
public.  Every  man  is  a  history  to  himself. 
I  review  my  own  life  with  humiliation  and 
self-abhorrence  for  sins,  in  my  younger  years, 
committed  against  the  Lord;  but  my  humilia- 
tion is  not  limited  to  that  period.  I  would 
wish  it  to  be,  in  part,  the  closing  act  of  my 
days.  I  have  obtained  mercy,  and  gratitude 
is  highly  due  to  the  God  of  my  life.  I  have 
been  the  subject  of  his  providential  goodness; 
hitherto  has  the  Lord  helped  me.  Select 
friends,  as  well  as  yourself,  may  be  enter- 
tained by  the  recital  of  the  divine  conduct, 
and  if  any  may  be  excited  by  it  under  similar 
circumstances,  either  in  youth  or  riper  years, 


to  trust  in  the  Lord,  I  shall  esteem  the  end 
of  its  being  communicated  answered. — I  am, 
with  more  affection  than  words  can  express, 
ever  yours,      CORNELIUS  WINTER. 


LETTER  II. 

My  very  dear  friend, — In  looking  to  the 
rock  from  whence  I  was  hewn,  and  to  the 
hole  of  the  pit  from  whence  I  was  digged,  I 
have  an  effectual  antidote  against  pride ;  in 
the  mention  of  them  I  feel  no  mortifica- 
tion. 

Gray's-inn-lane,  in  the  parish  of  St.  An- 
drew, Holborn,  was  the  place  of  my  nativity. 
I  was  born  the  ninth  and  last  child  of  John 
and  Catherine  Winter,  on  the  ninth  of  Octo- 
ber, in  the  year  one  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  forty-two,  and  was  baptized  on  the  six- 
teenth day  of  the  same  month,  in  the  parish 
church. 

I  am  very  unacquainted  with  the  history 
of  my  family,  but  from  what  I  have  heard  of 
the  place  of  my  father's  birth,  which  was  in 
or  near  Nottingham,  and  his  being  educated 
a  Dissenter,  I  am  inclined  to  conceive  my 
descent  is  from  Dr.  Winter,  mentioned  in 
Palmer's  Non-conformist's  Memorial.  How- 
ever, this  can  be  but  conjecture,  and  would 
be  of  little  consequence  could  it  be  ascer- 
tained. 

I  know  my  mother  was  a  native  of  Guild- 
ford, in  Surry.  Her  immediate  descent  was 
humble.  She  was  the  second  wife  of  my  fa- 
ther. He  was  by  trade  a  shoemaker,  in  very 
moderate  circumstances;  he  was  elected,  in 
the  latter  part  of  his  life,  head  porter  of 
Gray's-inn,  a  situation  worth  sixty  pounds 
per  annum.  He  died  of  a  consumption  when 
I  was  nine  months  old.  I  remember  to  have 
heard  it  remarked,  when  I  was  a  child,  that 
on  his  death  bed,  he  much  lamented  that  he 
had  not  felt  himself  affectionately  disposed 
towards  me.  But  it  may  be  easily  account- 
ed for,  from  my  being  too  young  to  have  any 
thing  attractive,  and  from  the  petulance  and 
decay  of  spirits,  not  uncommon  to  persons  in 
that  disorder. 

My  mother  survived  him  seven  years,  in  a 
declining  state,  which  also  terminated  in  a 
consumption.  She  was  not  wanting  in  her 
affection  to  me ;  but  I  was  nursed  and  reared 
principally  by  her  sister,  who  was  sheltered 
both  by  my  father,  and  herself,  from  one  of 


10 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


the  most  cruel  husbands  that  ever  disgraced 
human  nature;  and  she  had  the  greatest  share 
of  my  affection.  This  foster  parent  was  re- 
moved from  the  family  by  necessity,  previous 
to  my  mother's  decease.  My  brother,  at  the 
time  of  my  mother's  death,  about  twenty- 
three  years  of  age,  and  my  sister  about  seven- 
teen, with  myself,  were  the  only  survivors 
of  the  nine  children.  My  brother,  who  had 
served  seven  years  apprenticeship  to  a  watch- 
maker, soon  fell  a  sacrifice  to  youthful  lusts. 
I  had  been  encouraged  to  hope  for  support 
from  him,  but  in  consequence  of  his  bad  con- 
duct, he  enlisted  in  the  East  India  service, 
and  died  abroad.  My  sister  designed  to  exert 
herself  for  me,  and  had  she  been  as  prudent 
as  she  was  capable,  might  have  supported  me 
till  the  usual  period  in  which  lads  are  ap- 
prenticed ;  but  she  had  many  attractions,  and 
fell  into  ensnaring  company.  A  few  years 
she  was  the  dupe  to  vice,  but  afterwards  re- 
formed ;  and  I  have  reason  to  conclude  was 
effectually  awakened  and  savingly  converted 
by  Mr.  Romaine's  ministry,  and  died  under 
the  influence  of  divine  grace. 

After  the  death  of  my  mother,  I  was  suffer- 
ed to  wander  the  streets,  and  spend  my  time 
in  idleness  and  childish  dissipation.  Soon 
after  I  was  turned  of  eight  years,  I  was  ad- 
mitted into  the  charity  school  of  St.  Andrew, 
Holborn,  and  thought  it  a  high  honour  con- 
ferred upon  me.  I  felt  it  an  affliction  to  be 
deprived  of  schooling,  and  frequently  found 
time  hang  heavy  till  I  gained  the  privilege. 
When  returning  from  school,  I  found  myself 
excluded  our  apartments;  I  was  often  in 
want  of  food,  and  at  a  loss  for  many  hours  to 
know  what  was  become  of  my  sister.  By 
degrees  I  missed  pieces  of  furniture,  and  per- 
ceived affairs  going  on  seriously  bad.  My 
mother  had  the  care  of  several  sets  of  cham- 
bers in  Gray's-inn  ever  since  I  could  remem- 
ber, which,  in  conjunction  with  the  business 
of  a  laundress,  was  the  means  of  our  subsist- 
ence ;  my  sister  was  very  ingenious  with  her 
needle  and  her  pen,  and  conducted  the  whole 
business  with  great  credit,  during  the  period 
wherein  my  mother  lay  helpless.  Previous 
to  that  time,  she  was  her  right  hand,  and  was 
encouraged  to  go  on  with  the  business  after 
her  decease;  but  she  had  formed  a  tender 
connexion  which  was  never  consummated; 
and  having  been  drawn  into  dissipation,  mat- 
ters became  daily  embarrassed. 

She  took  occasion  one  day  to  inform  me 
the  furniture  would  be  sold,  that  she  must 
go  to  service,  and  that  I  must  go  to  the  work- 
house. She  was  not  deficient  in  affection.  I 
dearly  loved  her,  and  I  hoped  the  event 
would  turn  out  for  good.  I  do  not  recollect 
finding  myself  reluctant  to  my  fate.  It  was 
a  peculiar  pleasure  to  me  to  be  informed  I 
should  be  continued  in  the  school. 

I  was  introduced  into  a  ward  of  thirty 
boys.    Many  inconveniences  it  may  be  sup- 


posed I  felt*  but  with  all  I  can  recollec* 
that  I  was  at  the  same  time  impressed  with 
a  sense  of  many  mercies,  and  became  soon 
familiarized  to  this  situation. 

This  part  of  my  history  includes  about 
two  years.  When  I  look  back  as  far  as  I 
can  remember,  I  can  recollect  many  circum- 
stances which  are  not  sufficiently  interest- 
ing to  insert  here;  one  however  I  cannot 
omit,  namely,  the  frequent  and  deep  impres- 
sions made  upon  my  mind  by  religion.  I 
have  been  informed  by  some  who  knew  me 
before  I  knew  myself,  that  it  was  hardly  pos- 
sible to  keep  me  in  the  house  after  Gray's- 
inn  chapel  bell  struck  out,  to  summon  people 
to  the  daily  prayers  at  eleven  in  the  morn- 
ing and  five  in  the  evening.  I  well  remem- 
ber its  powerful  attraction,  and  also  the  first 
time  wherein,  after  very  earnest  entreaty,  I 
was  intrusted  to  go  by  myself  to  St.  An- 
drew's church.  I  can  recollect  the  pious 
frame  of  my  mind,  the  energy  with  which  I 
could  repeat  prayers,  and  according  to  my 
ability  read,  and  heard  the  Scriptures  read. 
A  very  serious  walk  round  Gray's-inn,  with 
some  of  my  companions  on  a  sabbath  day  even- 
ing, and  our  conversation  upon  the  greatness 
and  goodness  of  God,  excited  by  the  serenity  of 
the  element,  frequently  occurs  to  my  mind.  I 
attended  funerals  till  I  could  repeat  the  bu- 
rial service  by  rote.  In  the  time  in  which 
I  was  denied  the  privilege  of  school,  I  fre- 
quently went  to  St.  Andrew's  church,  at 
the  hour  of  prayer,  and  recollect  perfectly 
the  first  time,  that  the  twenty-first  chapter 
of  St.  Luke,  being  read  by  the  minister  in 

*  Of  these  the  author  has  noticed  several  instances, 
such  as  crowding  together  a  great  number  of  boys  into 
one  bed,  allowing  them  insufficient  food,  disregarding 
their  cleanliness,  neglecting  their  health,  &c.  These 
the  editor  has  suppressed  above,  and  would  not  have 
remarked  them  here,  but  for  the  sake  of  lamenting — 
that  the  design  of  charitable  institutions  should  so  often 
be  subverted  wholly  or  partially,  through  the  avarice 
or  inattention  of  hirelings.  This  might,  in  some  mea- 
sure at  least,  be  prevented,  if  proper  persons  would  un- 
dertake to  inspect  them.  The  editor  remembers,  when 
in  Dublin,  to  have  met  with  a  gentleman  who  had  re- 
tired from  business,  and  lived  on  a  small  independ- 
ence, who  devoted  himself  entirely  to  this  object.  He 
investigated  all  the  benevolent  establishments  in  the 
city,  and  having  ascertained  the  design  of  them,  and 
the  advantages  the  beneficiaries  were  authorized,  to 
expect  from  them,  he  published  the  account  to  enable 
any  of  the  inhabitants  to  judge  whether  justice  was 
done  them;  and  visited  them  weekly  in  rotation  him- 
self. How  many  ways  are  there  of  doing  good,  even 
where  persons  have  it  not  in  their  power  to  afford  pe- 
cuniary assistance!  How  desirable  is  it  to  deserve  the 
eulogium  pronounced  on  Mary,  "  She  hath  done  what 
she  could !" 

As  to  the  condition  itself  in  which  Mr.  W.  frankly 
acknowledges  himself  to  have  been  found,  it  must  prove 
very  unacceptable  and  offensive  to  all  those  who  wor- 
ship "the  god  of  this  world,"  and  can  think  of  no- 
thing worthy  attention  separable  from  guineas  and 
ribbons.  Were  it  not  for  the  remoteness  of  the  scene, 
how  much  more  scandalized  must  they  be  when  they 
hear  our  apostles  saying,  "  even  to  this  hour  we  both 
hunger  and  thirst,  and 'are  naked  and  buffeted,  and 
have  no  certain  dwelling  place:"  and  to  read  of  the 
mother  of  our  Saviour,  that  "  She  brought  forth  her 
first-born  son,  and  wrapped  him  in  swaddling  clothes 
and  laid  him  in  a  manger,  because  there  was  no  room 
for  him  in  the  inn?" 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


11 


the  desk,  made  a  deep  impression  upon  me. 
Indeed  the  Scriptures  I  am  now  most  con- 
versant with  are  those  I  have  heard  read  in 
the  desk,  or  recited  as  texts  from  the  pulpit, 
through  a  succession  of  sixteen  or  eighteen 
years.  I  enjoyed  going  to  church  on  the 
saints  days  and  on  the  sabbath  days,  and, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  which  were  always 
accompanied  with  remorse,  devoutly  joined 
in  the  prayers  and  psalmody  of  the  church, 
and  of  the  school.  My  mind  at  times  has 
been  so  elevated  that  I  believe  I  could  have 
received  the  summons  of  death  with  joy. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  these  frames  may 
be  attributed  to  the  work  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  which,  though  early  begun,  was  fre- 
quently interrupted  by  sinful  propensities, 
and  practices  which,  as  the  result  of  tempt- 
ation, I  fell  into ;  the  recollection  of  which 
gives  me  pain,  and  constrains  me  to  pray ; 
"  O  remember  not  against  me  former  iniqui- 
ties ;  remember  not  the  sins  of  my  youth."  I 
frequently  feel  the  most  powerful  distress 
for  them  now,  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven,  and 
if  1  could,  would  make  retribution.  I  must, 
and  blessed  be  God  I  may  be  a  debtor  to  the 
blood  of  Jesus.  I  never  did  any  thing  in- 
consistent with  the  strict  rule  of  morality 
without  feeling  the  smart  of  conscience. 

An  innocent  forgetfulness  became  the  inlet 
of  a  sad  temptation,  in  compliance  with  which 
I  was  too  successful  a  practitioner  in  sin.  As 
the  solicitation  occurred,  I  many  times  laid 
myself  under  a  curse,  that  I  would  commit 
the  sin  no  more.  But  nothing  short  of  con- 
verting grace  could  break  the  snare.  One 
day  I  fell  by  the  temptation.  I  had  been 
in  high  expectation  of  hearing  a  favourite 
preacher  on  the  following  Sunday.  When 
the  Sunday  came,  I  hesitated  much,  whether, 
with  so  much  guilt  upon  me,  I  should  go  to 
church.  I  did  go,  but  got  sorely  wounded  by 
considering  the  impropriety  of  the  religious 
act  of  that  day,  with  my  sinful  conduct  in 
the  course  of  the  week. 

I  found  out  a  relation  who  was  dying  in  a 
consumption.  He  was  the  son  of  the  widow 
of  my  father's  brother.  He  encouraged  me, 
when  I  had  liberty,  to  visit  him.  In  death 
he  recommended  me  to  his  brother's  notice, 
who  had  been  indebted  to  my  father  for  put- 
ting him  apprentice.  This  was  Mr.  Winter, 
water-gilder,  in  Bunhill-row,  of  whom  I  had 
not  any  knowledge.  I  found  he  had  a  design 
to  take  me  from  the  workhouse.  I  wish  I 
could  represent  his  design  in  a  pleasing 
light.  He  appeared  disposed  to  let  me  go  to 
the  charity-school  for  the  advantage  of  edu- 
cation, but  instantly  as  he  took  me,  I  was 
dismissed  by  the  trustees.  I  heard  it  was  to 
be  my  fate ;  but  hoped  the  report  was  false, 
especially  as  the  committee-day  passed  in 
which  the  business  of  the  school  was  attend- 
ed to,  and  the  scholars  were  reviewed,  with- 
out any  notice  being  taken  of  it.    I  went  as 


usual,  the  next  morning,  at  the  exact  time, 
for  I  never  was  late,  nor  ever  incurred  dis- 
pleasure by  an  hour's  absence  unavoidably. 
After  the  usual  exercise  of  prayer,  the  head 
master  surlily  came  up  to  me,  and  demanded 
if  my  Sunday's  clothes  were  in  their  place 
(they  were  taken  home  on  the  Saturday  and 
returned  on  the  Monday  by  the  law  of  the 
school.)  On  being  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative, he  told  me  I  must  go  away,  that  I  was 
no  longer  of  that  school.  It  is  not  to  be  de- 
scribed what  I  felt.  I  returned  to  my  new 
home,  broken-hearted.  As  Mr.  Winter  per- 
mitted me  to  apply  for  re-admission,  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  it  was  not  his  design  to  pre- 
vent me  the  advantage  of  the  schooling,  at 
least  for  a  time.  The  month  was  a  very 
gloomy  one.  On  the  Sunday  I  betook  my- 
self to  the  church,  longing  to  be  in  my  seat; 
like  an  outcast  I  placed  myself  after  church, 
at  the  school  door,  and  was  pierced  to  the 
heart  by  seeing  the  procession  of  the  scholars, 
without  permission  to  join  them.  On  the 
committee-day  I  presented  my  petition  for 
re-admission,  begged  access  into  the  room, 
kneeled  upon  my  knees,  and  with  crying  and 
tears  entreated  for  God's  sake  the  learning 
of  the  school  might  be  granted  to  me ;  but 
nothing  was  said  to  rne ;  on  the  other  hand, 
a  haughty  clergyman  dressed  in  his  full  suit 
of  robes,  ordered  me  instantly  to  be  taken 
out. 

I  had  not  been  two  years  in  the  school ; 
and  three  severe  fits  of  sickness,  the  saints 
days,  and  Christmas,  Easter,  and  Whitsun- 
tide holidays,  made  a  considerable  reduction 
from  that  time,  and  no  very  great  attention 
was  paid  to  improvement;  so  that  I  had 
merely  learned  to  write  when  my  schooling 
closed,  without  being  set  to  put  three  figures 
together,  or  to  learn  one  line  in  any  of  the 
tables. 

I  now  became  the  errand  boy,  and  was  de- 
voted to  what  employ  I  was  capable  of  in  the 
workshop,  and  occasionally  in  the  kitchen, 
and  other  domestic  services  from  six  in  the 
morning  till  eight  in  the  evening,  or  later,  as 
occasion  served.  This  was  my  situation  till 
I  was  one  and  twenty  years  of  age.  Mr. 
Winter  was  a  man  of  very  irritable,  severe 
temper,  unhappy  in  his  marriage,  and  given 
exceedingly  to  drinking.  Whatever  ruffled 
his  temper  I  was  the  victim  upon  whom  he 
vented  his  rage.  By  his  severity  my  spirits 
were  soon  broken,  and  I  became  so  enervated 
that  the  step  of  his  foot  up  stairs,  and  the 
sight  of  him  commonly  threw  me  into  a  tre- 
mor. Upon  the  slightest  occasion  he  would 
beat  me  unmercifully.  He  never  was  at  a 
loss  for  a  weapon:  iron  was  the  same  as 
wood;  consequences  were  not  regarded.  I 
review  the  scene  and  shudder.  I  sometimes 
wonder  that  I  have  my  faculties.  To  this 
very  time  I  frequently  dream  I  am  with  him 
under  his  displeasure,  and  feel  uneasiness. 


12 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


During  the  period  of  twelve  years,  I  often 
thought  it  were  better  to  die  than  to  live,  and 
in  some  parts  of  that  time  was  ready  to  say, 
I  choose  strangling  rather  than  life.  Had  I, 
in  the  former  years  been  a  partaker  of  grace, 
I  should  have  thought  I  endured,  as  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible;  but  as  this  was  not  the 
case,  I  sometimes  wonder,  on  reflection,  that 
I  did  not  elope  from  him,  and  submit  to  any 
thing  rather  than  such  perpetual  torture  of 
body  and  mind.  It  was  a  very  abject  situa- 
tion ;  I  had  nothing  to  encourage  me.  Over- 
burdened one  day  with  the  severity  of  my 
usage,  I  made  an  effort  to  get  work,  and  w  as 
determined  to  disengage  myself  from  my 
hard  task-master.  This  I  could  legally  have 
done  as  he  had  not  bound  me  to  him.  He 
was  informed  of  it  and  was  alarmed.  He 
came  up  in  the  shop  one  morning  in  an  unu- 
sual good  humour,  directed  his  discourse  to 
me,  applauded  my  work,  asked  me  if  I  had 
heard  the  news  of  young  men  not  appren- 
ticed being  liable  to  be  forced  into  the  king's 
service,  and,  as  it  was  the  time  of  war,  said 
he  had  no  method  of  screening  me,  but 
by  binding  me  to  him.  Perceiving  that  he 
was  imposing  upon  me,  and  suspecting  he 
had  a  design  of  an  unworthy  nature,  espe- 
cially as  he  kept  me  back  in  my  improve- 
ment, and  had  till  then  refused  to  bind  me,  I 
resisted  his  motion.  He  then  unmasked, 
flew  into  a  passion,  informed  me  that  he  had 
heard  I  had  applied  for  business,  and  threat- 
ened to  demand  recompense  for  my  subsist- 
ence for  the  time  I  had  been  with  him.  I 
was  persuaded  into  submission.  The  inden- 
ture was  antedated,  and  I  continued  to  wear 
the  galling  chain  for  four  years  longer. 

I  was  not  my  own  guide.  I  could  not  help 
myself  without  risking  difficulties,  which 
might  have  been  equal  to  those  I  underwent 
with  him.  I  doubtless  had  my  faults.  Many 
I  recollect,  and,  under  the  review  of  them, 
am  humbled  before  God ;  but  those  he  might 
charge  me  with,  did  not  merit  that  indiscreet 
severity  he  exercised  upon  me.  I  shall  in 
the  course  of  this  memoir  have  occasion  to 
mention  him  again.  I  bless  God  I  was  not 
suffered  to  precipitate  myself  into  ruin,  but 
was  enabled  patiently  to  endure;  and  as  I 
subscribe  to  his  wisdom  in  permitting  events 
thus  to  occur,  I  have  to  recollect  with  grati- 
tude his  kindness  towards  me  afterwards. 
He  has  instructed  me  and  taught  me.  He 
has  been  a  father  unto  me,  and  shall  receive 
praise  from  me.  I  will  relieve  your  atten- 
tion, and  at  present  subscribe  myself,  my 
very  dear  friend,  yours,  affectionately,  &c. 


LETTER  III. 
My  very  dear  friend, — In  the  former 
letter  I  mentioned  that  I  can  recollect  my 
mind  being  often  in  a  very  pious  frame;  I 
will  here  cite  a  fresh  instance.    By  being 


brought  to  Mr.  Winter,  I  became  an  inhabit- 
ant of  the  parish  of  St.  Luke,  Old-street.  On 
Saturday,  I  frequently  anticipated  the  plea- 
sures of  the  day  ensuing,  not  merely  as  a 
day  of  leisure,  but  of  devotion ;  and  usually 
attended  St  Luke's  church,  morning  and  af- 
ternoon, and  thought  it  an  additional  pleasure 
to  have  opportunity  to  attend  a  monthly 
evening  lecture  at  Cripplegate.  A  charity 
sermon  was  of  great  importance  to  me,  as  it 
afforded  me  an  opportunity  to  hear  a  new 
preacher ;  and  I  almost  envied  the  boys  the 
privilege  of  the  charity — judge  you  how  I 
must  feel  when  a  bishop  preached.  My 
situation  sometimes  confined  me  at  home  on 
a  Sunday  afternoon,  when  I  engaged  my  at- 
tention to  the  Bible.  I  remember  to  have 
fatigued  myself  once  exceedingly  in  writing 
out  the  first  chapter  of  the  second  book  of 
Kings.  But  it  stuck  by  me.  O  that  I  had 
habituated  myself  more  to  that  employ !  I 
had  all  this  time  common  and  very  strong 
prejudices  against  the  Methodists  and  Dis- 
senters. When  my  clothes  were  disgrace- 
fully bad,  which  was  sometimes  the  case,  I 
absconded  from  my  own  church,  and  occasion- 
ally wandered  into  a  meeting-house.  I  at 
last  got  to  hear  Mr.  Whitefield  two  or  three 
times,  and  was  particularly  struck  by  his  ap- 
pearance and  dress.  Though  at  the  distance 
of  sixty  feet,  and  the  congregation  very 
crowded,  I  one  Sunday  evening  thought  he 
spoke  particularly  to  me,  and  the  imagination 
had  a  powerful  effect  upon  me. 

I  believe  it  was  the  Christmas  previous  to  . 
this,  while  at  a  card  table  I  was  taking  some 
undue  liberty  with  Mr.  Whitefield's  ministry, 
in  the  way  of  burlesque ;  a  Scotch  woman 
who  was  sitting  by,  but  not  in  the  party,  very 
smartly  reproved  me,  desired  I  would  take  an 
opportunity  to  read  and  pray  over  the  eighth 
chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  till  I 
understood  it ;  and  added  she  was  persuaded 
I  should  no  longer  despise  Mr.  Whitefield's 
ministry.  I  never  can  forget  the  remorse  I 
felt  from  the  reproof;  and  the  advice,  after  I 
was  awakened,  produced  a  peculiar  attention 
to  the  scripture  recommended  to  my  atten- 
tion. 

In  the  year  1755, 1  had  occasion  to  make  a 
purchase  of  a  box,  of  which  I  was  informed, 
a  poor  woman  wanted  to  dispose.  She  after- 
wards informed  me,  there  was  something  in 
my  appearance  that  engaged  her  attention. 
She  desired  I  would  pay  her  a  visit.  I  was 
ready  to  receive  her  invitation,  and  drank  tea 
with  her  the  next  Sunday.  Like  one  truly 
taught  of  God,  and  desirous  of  communicating 
what  she  knew  of  him,  she  entered  upon  re- 
ligious subjects.  She  asked  me  if  I  had  ever 
heard  Mr.  Whitefield ;  I  replied,  I  had  once 
or  twice,  and  had  no  objection  to  him,  for  I 
perceived  she  knew  not  how  to  speak  affec- 
tionately enough  of  him.  But  I  said  I  could 
not  be  reconciled  to  his  lay  preachers ;  and  I 


HIS  OWN 

urged  the  common  objection  against  them.  I 
began  to  speak  in  high  terms  of  my  favourite 
preachers  at  church,  and  as  she  proposed  my 
going  with  her  to  hear  Mr.  Whitefield,  I 
urged  her  to  go  with  me  to  hear  those  I  had 
mentioned. 

She  was  soon  tired  of  my  fare,  and  told  me 
my  favourite  preachers  could  not  give  her 
what  she  wanted.  It  was  by  first  going  with 
her  to  the  Tabernacle,  that  I  was  more  pecu- 
liarly struck  with  the  largeness  of  the  con- 
gregation— the  solemnity  that  sat  upon  it — 
the  melody  of  the  singing — Mr.  Whitefield's 
striking  appearance,  and  his  earnestness  in 
preaching.  From  this  time,  prejudice  had  no 
more  place  in  my  breast.  Mr.  Whitefield  be- 
came increasingly  dear  to  me,  and  I  em- 
braced all  opportunities  to  hear  him.  Yet  I 
had  no  knowledge  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  the 
depravity  of  my  nature.  On  the  9th  of  April, 
1760,  being  the  Wednesday  in  the  Easter- 
week,  and  the  close  of  the  holidays,  as  I  was 
playing  at  cards  with  my  fellow-servants ;  re- 
collecting I  might  that  evening  hear  Mr. 
Whitefield,  I  broke  off  in  the  midst  of  the 
game,  which  much  discomposed  and  enraged 
my  companions,  who  suspected  where  I  was 
going.  It  was  a  night  much  to  be  remem- 
bered. I  have  reason  to  hope  the  scales  of 
ignorance  then  fell  from  my  eyes,  a  sense  of 
my  misery  opened  gradually  to  me,  and  I 
diligently  inquired  what  I  should  do  to  be 
saved.  I  never  more,  however,  played  a  game 
at  cards.  The  text  I  well  remember,  was 
1  Cor.  xv.  51,  52.  The  introduction  to  the 
sermon,  "  Come,  my  brethren,  we  have  from 
Sunday  till  yesterday  been  meditating  upon 
the  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  it  is  now  time 
that  we  should  think  about  our  own."  Could 
I  recite  the  whole  sermon,  and  it  should  read 
acceptably,  it  would  want  the  energy,  viva 
voce,  which  was  so  very  peculiar  to  the 
preacher,  that  a  resemblance  is  no  where  to 
be  found.  But  it  was  God  in  the  preacher 
that  made  the  word  efficacious;  to  him  be 
the  glory.  It  is  a  mercy  he  is  not  confined 
to  the  abilities  of  men  whose  talents  are  su- 
perior to  those  of  their  brethren.  Much  good 
was  at  that  time  doing  by  the  instrumentality 
of  men  whose  gifts  were  very  inconsidera- 
ble ;  and  the  Lord  could  have  wrought  upon 
my  soul  by  an  inferior  preacher.  The  state 
of  things  at  the  Tabernacle  and  Tottenham- 
court  chapel,  then  differed  from  what  it  is  at 
the  present  day,  in  this,  that  the  supplies 
were  not  very  considerable,  Mr.  Kinsman 
excepted.  Hence  there  was  a  very  great  dis- 
proportion in  the  congregation ;  yet  conver- 
sions were  very  frequent,  by  means  of  the 
substitutes  provided  by  Mr.  Whitefield  in  his 
absence,  notwithstanding  the  inferiority  of 
their  gifts  to  his  own.  It  is  "  not  by  might 
nor  by  power,"  which  is  hut  to  say,  it  is  not 
by  human  eloquence,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord,  that  work  is  wrought  upon  the  soul 

2 


ACCOUNT.  13 

which  is  essential  to  salvation.  That  the 
Lord  may  go  on  to  honour  your  gifts,  and  that 
you  may  ever  give  him  the  glory  of  that  good 
work  he  performs  by  you,  is  the  prayer  of, 
my  dear  friend,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  IV. 

My  very  dear  friend, — In  compliance 
with  your  request,  my  own  history  must  be 
entwined  with  the  history  of  others.  I  keep  in 
mind  the  remark  you  made  to  me  in  a  late 
conversation,  namely,  that  it  was  the  opinion 
of  some  that  there  had  not  been  sufficient  no- 
tice taken  of  Mr.  Whitefield  as  a  preacher, 
and  that  you  wished  I  would  endeavour  to 
exhibit  him  more  particularly  in  that  view. 
I  doubt  I  shall  fail  in  the  attempt;  though 
my  close  connexion  with  his  person  as  a  pri- 
vate humble  friend,  as  well  as  the  attention 
I  paid  to  his  ministry,  may  be  supposed  to 
give  me  an  advantage  in  writing  upon  this 
head. 

The  time  he  set  apart  for  preparations  for 
the  pulpit,  during  my  connexion  with  him, 
was  not  to  be  distinguished  from  the  time  he 
appropriated  to  other  business.  If  he  wanted 
to  write  a  pamphlet  upon  any  occasion,  he 
was  closeted  ;  nor  would  he  allow  access  to 
him,  but  on  an  emergency,  while  he  was  en- 
gaged in  the  work.  But  I  never  knew  him 
engaged  in  the  composition  of  a  sermon  until 
he  was  on  board  ship,  when  he  employed 
himself  partly  in  the  composition  of  sermons, 
and  reading  very  attentively  the  history  of 
England  written  by  different  authors.  He 
had  formed  a  design  of  writing  the  history  of 
Methodism,  but  never  entered  upon  it.  He 
was  never  more  in  retirement  on  a  Saturday 
than  on  another  day ;  nor  sequestered  at  any 
particular  time  for  a  period  longer  than  he 
used  for  his  ordinary  devotions.  I  never  met 
with  any  thing  like  the  form  of  a  skeleton  of 
a  sermon  among  his  papers,  with  which  1 
was  permitted  to  be  very  familiar,  nor  did  he 
ever  give  me  any  idea  of  the  importance  of 
being  habituated  to  the  planning  of  a  sermon. 
It  is  not  injustice  to  his  great  character  to 
say,  I  believe  he  knew  nothing  about  such  a 
kind  of  exercise. 

Usually  for  an  hour  or  two  before  he  en- 
tered the  pulpit,  he  claimed  retirement ;  and 
on  a  sabbath  day  morning  more  particularly, 
he  was  accustomed  to  have  Clarke's  Bible, 
Matthew  Henry's  Comment,  and  Cruden's 
Concordance  within  his  reach :  his  frame  at 
that  time  was  more  than  ordinarily  devo- 
tional ;  I  say  more  than  ordinarily,  because, 
though  there  was  a  vast  vein  of  pleasantry 
usually  in  him,  the  intervals  of  conversation 
evidently  appeared  to  be  filled  up  with  pri- 
vate ejaculation  connected  with  praise.  His 
rest  was  much  interrupted,  and  his  thoughts 
were  much  engaged  with  God  in  the  night. 


14  MEMOIRS  OF 

He  has  often  said  at  the  close  of  his  very 
warm  address,  "  This  sermon  I  got  when 
most  of  you  who  now  hear  me  were  fast 
asleep."  He  made  very  minute  observations, 
and  was  much  disposed  to  be  conversant  with 
life,  from  the  lowest  mechanic  to  the  first 
characters  in  the  land.  He  let  nothing  es- 
cape him,  but  turned  all  into  gold  that  ad- 
mitted of  improvement ;  and,  in  one  way  or 
another,  the  occurrence  of  the  week  or  the 
day  furnished  him  with  matter  for  the  pul- 
pit.— A  specimen — when  an  extraordinary 
trial  was  going  forwards,  he  would  be  pre- 
sent; and  on  observing  the  formality  of  the 
judge  putting  on  his  black  cap  to  pronounce 
sentence,  I  have  known  him  avail  himself  of 
it  in  the  close  of  a  sermon ;  with  his  eyes  full 
of  tears,  and  his  heart  almost  too  big  to  ad- 
mit of  speech,  dropping  into  a  momentary 
pause — "  I  am  going  now  to  put  on  my  con- 
demning cap:  sinner,  I  must  do  it;  I  must 
pronounce  sentence  upon  you — "  and  then 
in  a  tremendous  strain  of  eloquence,  recite 
our  Lord's  words,  "  Go  ye  cursed,"  not  with- 
out a  very  powerful  description  of  the  nature 
of  the  curse.  I  again  observe,  that  it  would 
be  only  by  hearing  him,  and  by  beholding  his 
attitude  and  his  tears,  that  a  person  could 
well  conceive  of  the  effect;  for  it  was  impos- 
sible but  that  solemnity  must  surround  him, 
who,  under  God,  became  the  means  of  making 
all  solemn. 

He  had  a  most  peculiar  art  of  speaking 
personally  to  you,  in  a  congregation  of  four 
thousand  people,  when  no  one  would  suspect 
his  object.  If  I  instance  it  in  an  effect  upon 
the  servant  of  the  house,  I  presume  it  is  not 
unsuitable.  She  had  been  remiss  in  her  duty 
in  the  morning  of  the  day.  In  the  evening, 
before  the  family  retired  to  rest,  I  found  her 
under  great  dejection,  the  reason  of  which  I 
did  not  apprehend ;  for  it  did  not  strike  me, 
that  in  exemplifying  a  conduct  inconsistent 
with  the  Christian's  professed  fidelity  to  his 
blessed  Redeemer,  he  was  drawing  it  from 
remissness  of  duty  in  a  living  character;  but 
she  felt  it  so  sensibly  as  to  be  greatly  dis- 
tressed by  it,  until  he  relieved  her  mind  by 
his  usually  amiable  deportment.  The  next 
day,  being  about  to  leave  town,  he  called  out 
to  her  "  Farewell ;"  she  did  not  make  her 
appearance,  which  he  remarked  to  a  female 
friend  at  dinner,  who  replied,  "  Sir,  you  have 
exceedingly  wounded  poor  Betty,"  which  ex- 
cited in  him  a  hearty  laugh;  and  when  I 
shut  the  coach-door  upon  him,  he  said,  "  Be 
sure  to  remember  me  to  Betty ;  tell  her  the 
account  is  settled,  and  that  I  have  nothing 
more  against  her." 

The  famous  comedian,  Shuter,  who  had  a 
great  partiality  for  Mr.  Whitefield,  showed 
him  friendship,  and  often  attended  his  minis- 
try. At  one  period  of  his  popularity  he  was 
acting  in  a  drama  under  the  character  of 


C.  WINTER. 

Ramble.  During  the  run  of  the  performance 
he  attended  service  on  sabbath  morning  at 
Tottenham-court  chapel,  and  was  seated  in 
the  pew  exactly  opposite  to  the  pulpit,  and 
while  Mr.  Whitefield  was  giving  full  sally 
to  his  soul,  and  in  his  energetic  address,  was 
inviting  sinners  to  the  Saviour,  he  fixed  him- 
self full  against  Shuter,  with  his  eye  upon 
him,  adding  to  what  he  had  previously  said, 
"And  thou,  poor  Ramble,  who  hast  long 
rambled  from  him,  come  you  also.  O  end 
your  rambling  by  coming  to  Jesus."  Shuter 
was  exceedingly  struck,  and  coming  in  to 
Mr.  Whitefield,  said,  "I  thought  I  should 
have  fainted,  how  could  you  serve  me  so  1" — 
It  was  truly  impressive  to  see  him  ascend  the 
pulpit.  My  intimate  knowledge  of  him  ad- 
mits of  my  acquitting  him  of  the  charge  of 
affectation.  He  always  appeared  to  enter  the 
pulpit  with  a  significance  of  countenance, 
that  indicated  he  had  something  of  import- 
ance which  he  wanted  to  divulge,  and  was 
anxious  for  the  effect  of  the  communication. 
His  gravity  on  his  descent  was  the  same. 
As  soon  as  ever  he  was  seated  in  his  chair, 
nature  demanded  relief,  and  gained  it  by  a 
vast  discharge  from  the  stomach,  usually 
with  a  considerable  quantity  of  blood,  before 
he  was  at  liberty  to  speak.  He  was  averse 
to  much  singing  after  preaching,  supposing  it 
diverted  the  savour  of  the  subject.  Nothing 
awkward,  nothing  careless,  appeared  about 
him  in  the  pulpit,  nor  do  I  ever  recollect  his 
stumbling  upon  a  word.  To  his  ordinary  as 
well  as  to  his  public  appearance,  this  observa- 
tion applies ;  whether  he  frowned  or  smiled, 
whether  he  looked  grave  or  placid,  it  was 
nature  acting  in  him. 

Professed  orators  might  object  to  his  hands 
being  lifted  up  too  high,  and  it  is  to  be  la- 
mented that  in  that  attitude,  rather  than  in 
any  other,  he  is  represented  in  print.  His 
own  reflection  upon  that  picture  was,  when 
it  was  first  put  into  his  hands.  "  Sure  I  do  not 
look  such  a  sour  creature  as  this  sets  me  forth ; 
if  I  thought  I  did,  I  should  hate  myself."  It 
is  necessary  to  remark,  that  the  attitude  was 
very  transient,  and  always  accompanied  by 
some  expressions  which  would  justify  it.  He 
sometimes  had  occasion  to  speak  of  Peter's 
going  out  and  weeping  bitterly,  and  then  he 
had  a  fold  of  his  gown  at  command,  which  he 
put  before  his  face  with  as  much  gracefulness 
as  familiarity. 

I  hardly  ever  knew  him  go  through  a  ser- 
mon without  weeping,  more  or  less,  and  I 
truly  believe  his  were  the  tears  of  sincerity. 
His  voice  was  often  interrupted  by  his  affec- 
tion ;  and  I  have  heard  him  say  in  the  pulpit, 
"  You  blame  me  for  weeping,  but  how  can  I 
help  it,  when  you  will  not  weep  for  your- 
selves, though  your  immortal  souls  are  upon 
the  verge  of  destruction,  and  for  aught  you 
know,  you  are  hearing  your  last  sermon,  and 


HIS  OWN 

may  never  more  have  an  opportunity  to  have 
Christ  offered  to  you."*  His  freedom  in  the 
use  of  his  passions  often  put  my  pride  to  the 
trial.  I  could  hardly  bear  such  unreserved 
use  of  tears,  and  the  scope  he  gave  to  his 
feelings,  for  sometimes  he  exceedingly  wept, 
stamped  loudly  and  passionately,  and  was  fre- 
quently so  overcome,  that,  for  a  few  seconds, 
you  would  suspect  he  never  could  recover; 
and  when  he  did,  nature  required  some  little 
time  to  compose  herself. 

You  may  be  sure  from  what  has  been  said, 
that  when  he  treated  upon  the  sufferings  of 
our  Saviour,  it  was  not  without  great  pathos. 
He  was  very  ready  at  that  kind  of  painting 
which  frequently  answered  the  end  of  real 
scenery.  As  though  Gethsemane  were  within 
sight,  he  would  say,  stretching  out  his  hand 
— "  Look  yonder !  what  is  that  I  see  !  it  is  my 
agonizing  Lord !" — And,  as  though  it  were 
no  difficult  matter  to  catch  the  sound  of  the 
Saviour  praying,  he  would  exclaim,  "  Hark ! 
hark !  do  not  you  hear  !" — You  may  suppose 
that  as  this  occurred  frequently,  the  efficacy 
of  it  was  destroyed ;  but,  no ;  though  we  often 
knew  what  was  coming,  it  was  as  new  to  us 
as  though  we  had  never  heard  it  before. 

That  beautiful  apostrophe,  used  by  the  pro- 
phet Jeremiah,  "  O  earth,  earth,  earth,  hear 
the  word  of  the  Lord,"  was  very  subservient 
to  him,  and  never  used  impertinently. 

He  abounded  with  anecdotes,  which  though 
not  always  recited  verbatim,  were  very  just 
as  to  the  matter  of  them.  One,  for  instance, 
I  remember,  tending  to  illustrate  the  efficacy 
of  prayer,  though  I  have  not  been  able  to 
meet  with  it  in  the  English  history — it  was 
the  case  of  the  London  apprentices  before 
Henry  the  Eighth,  pleading  his  pardon  of 
their  insurrection.  The  monarch,  moved  by 
their  sight,  and  their  plea,  "  Mercy !  mercy  !" 
cried,  "  Take  them  away,  I  cannot  bear  it." 
The  application  you  may  suppose  was,  that 
if  an  earthly  monarch  of  Henry's  description, 
could  be  so  moved,  how  forcible  is  the  sin- 
ner's plea  in  the  ears  of  Jesus  Christ.  The 
case  of  two  Scotchmen,  in  the  convulsion  of 
the  state  at  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second, 
subserved  his  design ;  who,  unavoidably  ob- 
liged to  pass  some  of  the  troops,  were  conceiv- 
ing of  their  danger,  and  meditating  what 
method  was  to  be  adopted,  to  come  off  safe : 
one  proposed  the  wearing  of  a  scull-cap;  the 
other,  supposing  that  would  imply  distrust  of 
the  providence  of  God,  was  determined  to 
proceed  bare-headed.  The  latter,  being  first 
laid  hold  of,  and  being  interrogated,  "Are 
you  for  the  covenant  1"  replied  "Yes;"  and 

*  Mr.  Winter  remarks— The  expression  of  offering 
Christ  was  considered  exceptionable  by  some  good  men, 
contemporaries  with  him,  whose  judgment  framed  their 
phraseology  ;  but  though  Mr.  VVhitefield  was  orthodox, 
his  affection  anil  zeal  were  not  to  be  restrained  from 
using  free  address,  while  labouring  for  the  conversion 
of  sinners.  The  language  had  been  sanctioned  by  the 
old  divines;  anil  in  the  Scriptures  we  more  than  once 
read  of  "  receiving  Christ." 


ACCOUNT.  15 

being  farther  asked,  "  What  covenant  1"  an- 
swered, "  The  covenant  of  grace,"  by  which 
reply,  eluding  further  inquiry,  he  was  let 
pass;  the  other,  not  answering  satisfactorily, 
received  a  blow  with  the  sabre,  which  pene- 
trating through  the  cap,  struck  him  dead. 
In  the  application,  Mr.  Whitefield,  warning 
against  vain  confidence,  cried,  "Beware  of 
your  scull-caps."  But  here  likewise  the  de- 
scription upon  paper,  wanting  the  reality  as 
exemplified  by  him  with  voice  and  motion, 
conveys  but  a  very  faint  idea.  However,  it 
is  a  disadvantage  which  must  be  submitted 
to,  especially  as  coming  from  my  pen. 

The  difference  of  the  times  in  which  Mr. 
Whitefield  made  his  public  appearance,  mate- 
rially determined  the  matter  of  his  sermons, 
and,  in  some  measure,  the  manner  of  his  ad- 
dress. He  dealt  far  more  in  the  explanatory 
and  doctrinal  mode  of  preaching  on  a  Sabbath- 
day  morning,  than,  perhaps,  at  any  other  time ; 
and  sometimes  made  a  little,  but  by  no  means 
improper,  show  of  learning.  If  he  had  read 
upon  astronomy  in  the  course  of  the  week, 
you  would  be  sure  to  discover  it.  He  knew 
how  to  convert  the  centripetal  motion  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  to  the  disposition  of  the 
Christian  toward  Christ,  and  the  fatal  attrac- 
tion of  the  world  would  be  very  properly  re- 
presented by  a  reference  to  the  centrifugal. 
Whatever  the  world  might  think  of  him,  he 
had  his  charms  for  the  learned  as  well  as  for 
the  unlearned ;  and  as  he  held  himself  to  be 
a  debtor  both  to  the  wise  and  to  the  unwise, 
each  received  his  due  at  such  times.  The 
peer  and  the  peasant  alike  went  away  satis- 
fied, 

As  though  he  heard  the  voice  of  God  ever 
sounding  in  his  ears  the  important  admoni- 
tion, "  Work  while  it  is  called  to-day,"  this 
was  his  work  in  London  at  one  period  of  his 
life : — After  administering  the  Lord's  supper 
to  several  hundred  communicants,  at  half  an 
hour  after  six  in  the  morning;  reading  the 
first  and  second  service  in  the  desk,  which  he 
did  with  the  greatest  propriety,  and  preaching 
full  an  hour,  he  read  prayers  and  preached  in 
the  afternoon,  previous  to  the  evening  service, 
at  half  an  hour  after  five;  and  afterwards  ad- 
dressed a  large  society  in  public.  His  after- 
noon sermon  used  to  be  more  general  and 
exhortatory.  In  the  evening  he  drew  his  bow 
at  a  venture,  vindicated  the  doctrines  of  grace, 
fenced  them  with  articles  and  homilies,  re- 
ferred to  the  martyrs'  seal,  and  exemplified 
the  power  of  divine  grace  in  their  sufferings, 
by  quotations  from  the  venerable  Fox.  Sin- 
ners were  then  closely  plied,  numbers  of 
whom  from  curiosity  coming  to  hear  a  sen- 
tence or  two,  were  often  compelled  to  hear 
the  whole  sermon.  How  many  in  the  judg- 
ment day  will  rise  to  prove  that  they  heard 
to  the  salvation  of  the  soul.  The  society, 
which  after  sermon  was  encircled  in  the  area 
of  the  Tabernacle,  consisted  of  widows,  mar- 


16 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


ried  people,  young  men  and  spinsters,  placed 
separately ;  all  of  whom,  when  a  considerable 
part  of  the  congregation  was  resettled,  for 
hundreds  used  to  stay  upon  the  occasion,  used 
to  receive  from  him  in  the  colloquial  style, 
various  exhortations  comprised  in  short  sen- 
tences, and  suitable  to  their  various  stations. 
The  practice  of  Christianity  in  all  its  branch- 
es was  then  usually  inculcated,  not  without 
some  pertinent  anecdote  of  a  character  worthy 
to  be  held  up  for  an  example,  and  in  whose 
conduct  the  hints  recommended  were  exem- 
plified. To  the  young  men  for  instance — A 
young  man  in  the  mercantile  line  whose  un- 
cle described  him  as  such  a  jumble  of  religion 
and  business,  that  he  was  fit  for  neither. — A 
widow  would  be  held  up  to  view,  remarkable 
for  her  confidence  in  God.  A  young  woman 
would  be  described,  commendable  for  her 
chastity,  prudence,  and  decorum — in  a  way 
that  made  it  desirable  for  each  description  of 
characters  to  imitate  them.  Masters  of  house- 
holds at  these  opportunities,  parents  and  chil- 
dren, had  their  portion,  but  nothing  enforced 
upon  legal  principles. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Whitefield  never  preached 
greater  sermons  than  at  six  in  the  morning, 
for  at  that  hour  he  did  preach  winter  and 
summer,  on  Mondays,  Tuesdays,Wednesdays, 
and  Thursdays.  At  these  times  his  congre- 
gations were  of  the  select  description,  and 
young  men  received  admonitions  similar  with 
what  were  given  in  the  society;  and  were 
cautioned,  while  they  neglected  the  duty  re- 
quired from  them  under  the  bond  of  an  inden- 
ture, not  to  anticipate  the  pleasures  and 
advantages  of  future  life.  Beware  of  being 
golden  apprentices,  silver  journeymen,  and 
copper  masters,  was  one  of  the  cautions  1 
remember  upon  those  occasions. 

His  style  was  now  colloquial,  with  little  use 
of  motion ;  pertinent  expositions,  with  suitable 
remarks;  and  all  comprehended  within  the 
hour.  Christian  experience  principally  made 
the  subject  of  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday, 
and  Thursday  evening  lectures;  when,  fre- 
quently having  funeral  sermons  to  preach,  the 
character  and  experience  of  the  dead  helped 
to  elucidate  the  subject,  led  to  press  diligence 
in  the  Christian  course,  to  reflect  upon  the 
blessing  of  faith  on  earth,  and  glory  in  hea- 
ven. Mr.  Whitefield  adopted  the  custom  of 
the  inhabitants  of  New  England  in  their  best 
days,  of  beginning  the  Sabbath  at  six  o'clock 
on  Saturday  evenings.  The  custom  could 
not  be  observed  by  many,  but  it  was  conve- 
nient to  a  few — a  few  compared  with  the 
multitude,  but  abstractedly  considered,  a  large 
and  respectable  company.  Now  ministers  of 
every  description  found  a  peculiar  pleasure 
in  relaxing  their  minds  from  the  fatigues  of 
study,  and  were  highly  entertained  by  his 
peculiarly  excellent  subjects,  which  were  so 
suitable  to  the  auditory,  that  I  believe  it  was 
seldom  disappointed.    It  was  an  opportunity 


peculiarly  suited  to  apprentices  and  journey- 
men in  some  business,  which  allowed  of  their 
leaving  work  sooner  than  on  other  days,  and 
availing  themselves  at  least  of  the  sermon; 
from  which  I  also  occasionally  obtained  my 
blessings.    Had  my  memory  been  retentive, 
and  I  had  studiously  treasured  up  his  rich  re- 
marks, how  much  more  easily  might  I  have 
met  your  wishes,  and  have  answered  the  de- 
sign of  this  letter  !    But  though  I  have  lost 
much  of  the  letter  of  his  sermons,  the  savour 
of  them  yet  remains.    The  peculiar  talents 
he  possessed,  subservient  to  great  usefulness, 
can  be  but  faintly  guessed  from  his  sermons 
in  print ;  though,  as  formerly  God  has  made 
the  reading  of  them  useful,  I  have  no  doubt 
but  in  future  they  will  have  their  use.  The 
eighteen  taken  in  short  hand,  and  faithfully 
transcribed  by  Mr.  Gurney,  have  been  sup- 
posed to  do  discredit  to  his  memory,  and  there- 
fore they  were  suppressed.    But  they  who 
have  been  accustomed  to  hear  him,  may  col- 
lect from  them  much  of  his  genuine  preach- 
ing. They  were  far  from  being  the  best  spe- 
cimens that  might  have  been  produced.  He 
preached  many  of  them  when,  in  fact,  he  was 
almost  incapable  of  preaching  at  all.  His 
constitution,  long  before  they  were  taken,  had 
received  its  material  shock,  and  they  were 
all,  except  the  two  last,  the  production  of  a 
Wednesday  evening;  when  by  the  current 
business  of  the  day,  he  was  fatigued  and  worn 
out.    The  "  Good  Shepherd"  was  sent  him 
on  board  the  ship.    He  was  much  disgusted 
with  it,  and  expressed  himself  to  me  as  in  the 
1440th  letter  of  the  third  volume  of  his  works 
— "  Tt  is  not  verbatim  as  I  delivered  it.  In 
some  places  it  makes  me  speak  false  concord, 
and  even  nonsense ;  in  others  the  sense  and 
connexion  is  destroyed  by  the  injudicious  dis- 
jointed paragraphs,  and  the  whole  is  entirely 
unfit  for  the  public  review."  His  manuscript 
journal,  as  quoted  by  Dr.  Gillies,  notes — 
"  September  15.    This  morning  came  a  sur- 
reptitious copy  of  my  Tabernacle  farewell 
sermon,  taken,  as  the  short-hand  writer  pro- 
fesses, verbatim  as  I  spoke  it ;  but  surely  he 
is  mistaken.    The  whole  is  so  injudiciously 
paragraphed,  and  so  wretchedly  unconnected, 
that  I  owe  no  thanks  to  the  misguided,  though 
it  may  be  well  meant,  zeal  of  the  writer  and 
publisher,  be  they  whom  they  will.  But  such 
conduct  is  an  unavoidable  tax  upon  populari- 
ty."   He  was  then  like  an  ascending  Elijah, 
and  many  were  eager  to  catch  his  dropping 
mantle.  In  the  sermons  referred  to  there  are 
certainly  many  jewels,  though  they  may  not 
be  connected  in  a  proper  order. 

Whatever  fault  criticism  may  find  with  his 
sermons  from  the  press,  they  were,  in  the  de- 
livery, powerful  to  command  the  most  devoted 
attention.  I  have  been  informed  by  good 
judges,  that  if  many  of  the  speeches  in  our 
two  houses  were  to  be  given  in  their  original 
state,  they  would  not  appear  to  the  first  ad- 


HIS  OWN 

vantage,  nor  would  Mr.  Whiteficld's  sermons 
have  had  criminal  defects,  had  they  been  re- 
vised with  his  own  pen.  In  the  fifth  and 
sixth  volumes  of  his  works,  all  the  sermons 
he  ever  printed  are  comprised.  It  is  very 
easy  to  distinguish  them  which  were  pre- 
composed,  from  others  which  were  preached 
extemporary.  Of  the  latter,  I  notice  Peter's 
denial  of  his  Lord,  and  the  true  way  of  be- 
holding the  Lamb  of  God ;  Abraham's  offering 
up  his  son  Isaac;  Christ  the  believer's  hus- 
band, and  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus.  These 
and  others  preserve  the  extemporary  style, 
and  fully  serve  to  discover  the  exactness  of 
the  preacher.  He  shines  brightest  with  a 
long  text,  on  which  fancy  has  scope  to  play, 
and  the  mind  has  liberty  to  range.  However 
exact  he  may  appear  in  the  page,  it  is  impos- 
sible for  the  natural  man,  who  discerneth  not 
the  things  of  the  Spirit,  to  understand  him. 
God  may  make  the  page  printed,  the  instru- 
ment in  his  hand  to  convert  the  sinner,  and 
then  he  will  no  longer  ask,  "  Doth  he  not 
speak  parables'!"  but  till  then,  as  living  he 
was,  so  dead,  he  is  liable  to  the  lash  of  seve- 
rity :  but  the  same  Providence  that  preserved 
his  person,  will  maintain  his  works :  and  thus 
he  being  dead,  yet  speaketh,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  speak  for  a  great  while  to  come. 
Whatever  invidious  remarks  they  may  make 
upon  his  written  discourses,  they  cannot  in- 
validate his  preaching.  Mr.  Toplady  called 
him  the  prince  of  preachers,  and  with  good 
reason,  for  none  in  our  day  preached  with  the 
like  effect.  It  is  probable  I  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  make  farther  mention  of  him  in  the 
course  of  the  papers  I  have  to  communicate 
to  you.  That  a  large  measure  of  the  Spirit 
with  which  he  spake,  may  rest  upon  you,  and 
that  you,  with  the  supply  of  your  measure  of 
the  gift  of  Christ,  may  be  steadfast,  immove- 
able, and  always  abounding  in  the  work  of 
the  Lord,  until  you  cease  to  labour  and  enter 
into  rest,  is  the  prayer  of,  my  very  dear  friend, 
yours,  affectionately. 


LETTER  V. 

My  very  dear  friend, — Having,  in  my 
last  letter  taken  the  liberty  to  give  my  free 
thoughts  of  my  ever  honoured  and  dear  friend 
and  father,  Mr.  Whitefield,  by  whom,  as  an 
instrument  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  I  was 
brought  into  newness  of  life,  I  would  again 
take  up  the  thread  of  my  own  history.  That 
God's  people  may  review  with  gratitude  what 
he  hath  done  for  them,  their  mind  is  to  be  the 
repository  of  his  goodness.  .To  Israel  of  old, 
God  said  by  Moses,  "  Thou  shalt  remember 
all  the  way  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee." 
The  tongue  cannot  utter,  nor  the  pen  relate, 
if  the  memory  do  not  retain.  I  cannot  well 
forget  the  days  of  my  youth.  The  period  to 
which  I  am  now  recurring  is  fresh  upon  my 
C  2* 


ACCOUNT.  17 

mind.  By  refusing  to  join  in  the  amusements 
to  which  1  had  been  addicted,  and  by  my  re- 
treat into  retirement,  I  was  taken  notice  of, 
and  afforded  matter  for  ridicule.  It  was  visi- 
ble to  the  whole  family  by  the  alteration  of 
my  conduct,  and  the  s'edatenessof  my  deport- 
ment, that  some  change  had  taken  place.  My 
relation  said  that  going  to  Whiteficld's  would 
keep  me  out  of  harm's  way,  and  for  a  little 
while,  he  did  not  much  object  against  it ;  but 
the  storm  of  persecution  soon  began  to  arise ; 
indeed  my  afflictions  were  many  and  great ; 
but,  blessed  be  God,  they  were  made  sup- 
portable by  the  comforts  which  refreshed  my 
soul.  Now  a  guide  and  companion  was  want- 
ing to  regulate  my  zeal,  but  such  a  one  was 
not  at  hand.  The  good  woman,  however,  who 
brought  me  under  the  word,  did  every  thing 
in  her  power  to  cherish  the  work  she  had 
reason  to  hope  was  began,  and  I  took  sweet 
counsel  with  her.  I  soon  became  a  sermon 
hunter,  and  an  admirer  of  all  in  whom  I  dis- 
covered the  least  disposition  for  the  gospel. 
I  began  to  recollect  Mr.  Romaine,  whom  I 
heard  some  years  before,  by  straying  one 
Thursday  afternoon,  while  on  an  errand,  into 
St.  Dunstan's,  Fleet-street.  I  heard  he  preach- 
ed at  St.  Bartholomew's,  Smithfield;  and 
going  one  Sunday  morning  there,  I  heard 
Mr.  Haweis,  by  whom  I  was  first  and  greatly 
comforted.  O  how  precious  was  the  word  of 
the  Lord  to  my  soul  that  day.  I  feel  some- 
thing of  it  as  I  write,  but  it  is  more  like  the 
gathering  of  wind  with  a  fan,  than  like  the 
heavenly  breeze  .which  that  day  blew  upon 
my  soul. — Soon  after  this,  I  went  to  hear  Mr. 
Hitchon,  who  preached  at  White's-row,  Spi- 
talfields,  and,  struck  with  his  animating,  in- 
genious, and  critical  expositions,  delivered  on 
Sabbath-day  mornings,  I  became  a  constant 
attendant  for  twelve  months.  To  what  to  at- 
tribute it  I  know  not,  whether  the  novelty  of 
the  exercise,  my  superficial  knowledge,  or 
the  magnitude  of  his  gift,  and  the  forcibfeness 
of  his  delivery ;  but  it  appeared  to  me  no  man 
could  excel  him;  hardly  any  one  came  up  to 
him.  The  eager  attention  of  a  numerous 
auditory  met  and  fastened  upon  his  lively  ex- 
ertions; and  when  he  closed  his  exercise,  the 
people,  relieving  their  attention,  seemed  to 
say  one  to  another,  We  have  heard  great 
things  to-day. 

Now  it  was  that  I  wished  to  possess  a  Bi- 
ble. I  might  by  saving  up  the  few  pence 
which  occasionally  came  to  me,  have  bought 
one  in  time,  but  it  was  much  impressed  upon 
my  mind,  that  I  must  beg  one  of  Mr.  Hitchen. 
The  Bible  which  lay  in  the  kitchen  was  with- 
held from  me.  I  did  not  know  that  there  was 
a  book  society,  and  when  I  had  knocked  at 
Mr.  Hitchen's  door,  I  was  much  alarmed  at 
my  presumption,  and  was  tempted  to  run 
away.  The  idea  of  speaking  to  a  minister, 
whom  I  held  in  the  highest,  veneration,  was 
formidable,  and  I  was  surprised  at  his  conde- 


18 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


scension.  He  kindly  attended  to  my  request, 
and  I  hope  I  never  shall  forget  the  excellence 
of  his  advice,  and  the  suitableness  of  his  con- 
versation. At  the  same  time  I  consulted  with 
him  about  entering  into  the  Tabernacle  so- 
ciety. He  persuaded  me  to  put  aside  this 
design  for  awhile,  and  to  be  much  in  retire- 
ment. He  also  cautioned  me  against  forming 
too  favourable  an  opinion  of  professors  from 
their  exterior  deportment,  and  I  have  fre- 
quently found  the  necessity  of  attending  to  it. 

The  impression  of  our  mind  is  often  from 
God ;  I  have  found  it  to  be  so  in  many  in- 
stances. By  sucli  an  impression  I  became 
increasingly  desirous  to  join  the  Tabernacle. 
I  soon  passed  a  favourable  examination  by 
Mr.  Middleton,  a  truly  excellent  man  of  God, 
and  was  admitted.  At  this  juncture  I  begged 
the  acquaintance  of  a  most  amiable  youth, 
who  for  five  years  was  my  familiar  friend. 
He  was  poor,  but  rich  in  grace.  He  had  been 
renounced  by  his  mother  for  his  religion.  Her 
prejudices  were  not  to  be  conquered,  nor  her 
judgment  to  be  informed ;  she  died  at  enmity 
with  him,  though  he  sought  in  the  most  be- 
coming manner  to  conciliate  her  affection. 
He  died  triumphantly,  of  a  putrid  fever,  in 
which  I  gave  him  all  the  attendance  in  my 
power,  and  was  affected,  but  not  laid  aside 
by  it.  He  was  in  the  time  mentioned,  but 
one,  though  the  first  of  a  circle  of  young  peo- 
ple who  met  frequently  in  a  poor  woman's 
room,  to  sing,  pray,  and  read  the  scriptures 
together.  It  was  a  blessed  retreat  from  the 
clamours  of  a  noisy  workshop,  where  I  was 
exposed  to  cruelty  and  insult,  from  six  in  the 
morning  until  eight  in  the  evening.  The 
Bible  now  became  my  food.  Whatever  trials 
and  temptations  I  was  exposed  to  at  this  time, 
and  they  were  very  many,  I  was  comforted 
under  them.  We  used  to  go  to  the  house  of 
God  in  company;  I  can  never  forget,  how 
many  seasons  of  refreshing  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord  we  had  at  the  sacred  supper; 
sometimes  at  St.  Alban's  church,  Wood-street, 
at  half  an  hour  after  six  in  the  morning,  win- 
ter and  summer ;  but  more  generally  at  the 
Tabernacle  and  Tottenham-court  chapel,  at 
the  same  hour.  At  that  time  my  constitution 
was  feeble,  and  my  clothing  insufficient  for 
the  winter,  but  the  comforts  which  refreshed 
my  soul,  made  me  superior  to  every  thing  I 
endured.  To  give  scripture  epithets  to  the 
places  in  which  these  seasons  were  enjoyed, 
they  were  Beth-els  and  Peni-els — they  were 
as  the  house  of  God,  wherein  I  beheld  his  glory. 
While  I  gave  my  more  constant  attendance 
upon  the  ministry  of  my  dear  and  honoured 
father,  Mr.  Whitefield,  and  his  stated  assist- 
ants ;  I  also  heard  with  delight  and  to  profit, 
Messrs.  Romaine,  Jones,  Maddan,  Venn,  &c. 
&c.  each  of  them  had  a  message  from  God  to 
me.  Blessed  be  his  name  for  those  halcyon 
days.  But  the  happy  period  which  included 
them  was  not  a  morning  without  clouds,  nor 


was  my  walk  free  from  imperfections.  I  did 
many  things  which  I  ought  not  to  have  done. 
My  zeal  carried  me  into  many  extravagan- 
ces, and  I  sometimes  broke  the  bounds  of  duty 
to  hear  the  word.  Whenever  I  could  hear 
an  evening  sermon,  or  attend  a  letter-reading 
— for  Mr.  Whitefield  read  letters  publicly — 
it  set  me  above  earth;  and  when  I  had  heard 
the  conclusion  of  a  sermon,  which  I  now  and 
then  did  by  trespassing  upon  the  time  ap- 
pointed for  leaving  work  a  few  minutes,  pre- 
cipitately climbing  the  Artillery-ground  gates, 
and  running  on  the  full  stretch  to  the  Taber- 
nacle, I  almost  envied  the  congregation  who 
appeared  to  me  to  be  all  enjoyment.  Though 
I  could  seldom  attend  preaching,  I  could  on  a 
Wednesday  evening  reach  the  class,  a  de- 
tached company  of  the  society  who  met  to- 
gether to  relate  christian  experience ;  and 
here  also,  I  often  lost  my  burden,  obtained  a 
blessing,  and  found  others  as  well  as  myself 
felt  the  briars  and  thorns  of  the  wilderness. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Green,  an  occasional  assist- 
ant to  Mr.  Whitefield,  who  subsisted  by 
teaching  a  school ;  was  hearing  some  of  his 
scholars  read  one  day  in  the  fourteenth  chap- 
ter of  the  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians  :  he 
was  led  to  reflect  upon  the  mode  of  prophesy- 
ing mentioned  in  that  chapter,  and  he  thought 
it  justified  the  order  observed  by  the  Quakers. 
He  proposed  to  a  venerable  friend  the  insti- 
tution of  a  meeting  in  a  similar  way.  Mon- 
day evenings  were  the  times  appointed  for 
holding  these  meetings.  He  began  as  usual, 
and  after  following  a  short  sermon  with  sing- 
ing an  hymn,  he  sat  down  and  gave  liberty  to 
any  one  who  was  disposed  to  speak  of  the 
work  of  grace  upon  his  heart,  or  to  deliver  a 
short  exhortation.  The  meeting  was  crowd- 
ed; it  began  late  and  held  long.  I  could 
therefore  enjoy  my  share  of  it.  Several 
young  men  made  their  appearance  on  these 
occasions,  and  discovered  good  natural  abili- 
ties; among  these  I  may  particularly  mention, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Spencer,*  the  late  Rev.  Peter 
Sampson,  of  Truro,  in  Cornwall,  and  the  late 
Rev.  Mr.  West,  a  very  popular  preacher  in 
London.  These  I  was  very  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  ;  but  there  were  others  whom 
I  do  not  mention,  whose  ministerial  talents 
were  first  discovered  in  this  exercise.  Ani- 
mated with  a  degree  of  zeal,  I  stood  up  one 
evening  after  many  struggles  with  myself 
upon  the  propriety  of  the  attempt.  My  ap- 
pearance was  singular.  I  stood  upon  a  form, 
a  meagre  youth  of  eighteen,  and  meanly  ap- 
parelled. I  introduced  myself  in  the  words 
of  the  Psalmist,  "  Come  and  hear  all  ye  that 

*  Mr.  W.  subjoins  in  a  note — Mr.  Spencer,  by  dili- 
gence in  study,  and  perseverance  in  grace,  lias  acquired 
and  sustained  the  character  of  an  eminent  scholar  and 
able  minister  He  was  in  the  curacy  of  Bradford  be- 
tween twenty  and  thirty  years,  and  now  resides  in  the 
adjacent  parish  of  WingiieJd.of  which  he  is  the  esteemed 
rector.  Mr.  Crouch,  vice  president  of  Edmund  hall, 
and  several  other  evangelical  clergymen,  were  educat- 
ed by  him. 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


19 


fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath 
done  for  my  soul."  I  found  much  enlarge- 
ment, and  from  that  time  became  one  of  the 
speakers.  What  I  had  to  say  was  kindly  re- 
ceived. I  now  employed  part  of  the  Lord's 
days  in  visiting  the  sick ;  and  many  compa- 
nies of  young  people  meeting  together  imme- 
diately after  the  hour  of  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  whose  business  prevented  them  from 
attending  the  public  ministry,  I  was  encou- 
raged to  exercise  my  talents  among  them,  by 
exhorting  and  expounding  the  Scriptures. 
Thus  my  very  small  intervals  from  secular 
employ  were  occupied  in  spiritual  services. 
By  this  means  I  became  known  pretty  largely, 
and  was  unexpectedly  brought  into  a  large 
sphere. 

Though  thus  encouraged,  I  had  no  idea  of 
being  disengaged  from  secular  employ.  I  had 
formed  my  own  plan  of  life,  little  thinking 
that  it  was  contrary  to  the  will  of  God,  and 
that  he  had  a  different  design  in  view.  By 
this  time  my  sister  had  become  a  spiritual 
companion  to  me,  and  walked  with  me  in  all 
the  ordinances  of  the  gospel.  I  had  designed 
to  live  with  her,  and  by  every  means  in  my 
power,  to  make  her  life  comfortable.  We 
frequently  contemplated  the  mutual  happi- 
ness we  should  enjoy  when  I  came  out  of  my 
apprenticeship.  But  her  health  rapidly  de- 
clined, she  became  unable  to  get  her  bread, 
and  in  a  month  after  I  came  out  of  my  time, 
I  had  her  to  bury.  This  was  a  sore  affliction 
to  me.  Attention  to  her  in  her  latter  days, 
interrupted  the  course  I  have  above  described. 
The  tenderest  affection  subsisted  between  us, 
and  instead  of  labouring  for  her  future  sub- 
sistence, I  had  to  work  out  a  debt  contracted 
for  her  support  in  months  past;  and  augment- 
ed by  her  funeral. 

I  was  frequently  solicited  to  appear  more 
publicly,  but  recoiled  at  the  idea.  It  was 
hinted  by  many  that  Providence  did  not  in- 
tend to  continue  me  in  the  employ  of  a  water- 
gilder.  Mr.  Green  used  some  arguments  to 
excite  my  attention  to  the  ministry,  which 
made  me  think  that  the  Lord  at  some  time  or 
other,  might  employ  me  in  his  work,  but  I 
never  expected  higher  preferment  than  to  be 
a  local  preacher. — Mr.  Sampson  above-men- 
tioned, called  upon  me  one  day,  and  used 
earnest  solicitation  with  me  to  supply  a  con- 
gregation alternately  with  himself  and  others 
at  Cheshunt,  in  Hertfordshire.  After  some 
debate  upon  the  motion,  I  then  consented  to 
submit  to  the  trial  of  my  acceptance.  I  was 
then  desired  to  cast  in  my  labours  at  Graves- 
end,  with  which  request  I  complied,  en- 
deavouring that  my  time  for  business  might 
suffer  as  little  encroachment  as  possible.  My 
constitution  was  very  weak,  and  I  struggled 
under  a  great  share  of  indisposition,  which 
God  graciously  carried  me  through.  But  on 
the  reflection,  I  am  astonished  that  I  was  so 
supported.  My  relation  continued  very  churl- 


ish to  me,  cramped  me  in  my  wages,  and 
made  my  life  very  uncomfortable.  I  conti- 
nued with  him  nine  months  only,  after  I  was 
out  of  my  apprenticeship,  and  by  hard  work 
and  hard  fare,  was  nearly  able  to  say,  "  I 
owe  no  man  any  thing  but  love."  He  came 
one  morning  into  the  shop,  when  there  was 
not  the  least  cause  to  find  fault,  and  in  a  vio- 
lent outrage,  in  which  he  used  infamous  lan- 
guage, insisted  that  I  should  do  no  more 
work.  I  have  reason  to  think  he  did  not 
mean  as  he  said,  but  I  replied  I  would  take 
him  at  his  word,  that  his  usage  had  worn  out 
my  spirits,  and  I  would  cast  myself  upon 
God.  He  burlesqued  the  idea  of  Providence, 
read  my  destiny  to  be  most  deplorable,  and 
signified  I  should  soon  want  bread.*  His 
words  alarmed  my  fears ;  but  I  was  enabled 
to  counteract  fear  by  the  exercise  of  faith.  I 
have  since  reason  to  think  he  had  heard  of 
my  preaching,  and  that  his  corruptions  were 
roused  by  the  report.  The  business  itself 
was  injurious  to  my  nerves.  The  continual 
discouragement  I  was  under  preyed  upon 
my  mind;  my  having  adventured  into  the 
ministry,  was  attended  with  much  conflict,  so 
that  the  time  under  review  was  a  time  of 
trouble.  I  pause  and  bring  the  scene  near. 
I  enter  very  circumstantially  into  it.  I  do 
not  forget  that  there  were  secret,  faults  in  my 
conduct,  which,  though  only  visible  to  the 
eye  of  Omniscience  and  my  own  conscience, 
must  not  be  forgotten  by  me.  Indeed  they 
cannot ;  my  soul  hath  them  still  in  remem- 
brance, and  is  humbled  within  me.  The 
tempter  had  his  instrument-;  by  which  he 
wrought.  By  artless  simplicity,  I  was  ex- 
posed to  danger,  but  not  overcome  so  as  to 
bring  reproach  upon  the  cause  of  God.  Be- 
nevolence and  sympathy  for  the  distresses  of 
others,  while  I  was  distressed  myself,  hurried 
me  into  imprudence ;  but  the  Lord  upheld  my 
soul,  and  integrity  and  uprightness  preserved 
me.  I  was  not  so  happy  yet  as  to  be  under 
the  eye  and  guidance  of  one  who  might  watch 
over  me.  Intemperate  zeal,  and  imprudence 
in  many  instances  discovered  themselves ; 
and  I  was  afraid  of  spiritual  sloth,  and  of  any 
thing  that  was  contrary  to  the  life  and  power 
of  godliness.  I  bless  God  that  he  afforded  me 
cause  to  be  thankful,  and  that  from  that  pe- 
riod, his  mercy  has  been  like  a  current  not  to 
be  obstructed.  It  has  run  to  this  moment. 
Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  bless  the  Lord, 
my  ever  dear  friend,  to  whom  this  history  is 
addressed.  I  bless  him  on  your  account. 
Interested  in  all  the  mercies  he  has  conferred 

*  Mr.  Winter  adds— Thus  we  parted,  and  I  doubt  not 
hut  his  conduct  towards  me  has  since  filled  him  with 
bitter  remorse.  I  knew  this  from  words  he  afterwards 
uttered  to  me,  and  to  which  he  would  have  added  more 
ifl  would  have  suffered  the  confession.  But  God  has 
forgiven  the  debt  of  sin  against  him,  and  has  thereby 
set  me  an  example  to  forgive  all  his  unkindness  to- 
wards me.  At  his  death,  he  left  me  twenty  pounds, 
with  an  apology  in  his  will  for  not  leaving  me  more. 


20 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


upon  you,  I  remain,  ever,  yours,  affection- 
ately, &c. 


LETTER  VI. 
My  very  dear  friend, — In  reviewing 
the  history  of  my  life,  and  addressing  it  to 
you,  I  conceive  that  I  am  giving  glory  to 
God.  My  object  is,  as  far  as  I  am  the  subject 
of  it,  and  that  is  far  indeed,  to  utter  the  me- 
mory of  his  great  goodness.  When  the  breach 
between  my  relation  and  myself  became  en- 
tire, I  knew  not  what  to  do.  The  trade  I  had 
been  brought  up  to  did  not  afford  many  mas- 
ters ;  but  I  was  in  hope  I  might  obtain  work 
somewhere,  or  be  directed  into  some  other 
line.  He  who  knoweth  all  things  knows 
how  unambitious  my  mind  was,  how  sin- 
cerely I  was  attached  to  manual  labour,  and 
how  conscientiously  I  intended  to  engage 
myself  under  another  employer.  But  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  immediately  on  my  sud- 
den separation  from  Mr.  Winter,  I  betook 
myself  to  Mr.  How,  to  give  vent  to  a  heart 
big  with  sorrow.  Mr.  How  was  an  excel- 
lent man,  and  though  in  trade,  at  which  he 
worked  hard,  of  good  preaching  talents  and 
some  learning.  After  labouring  with  repu- 
tation and  success  in  the  ministry  for  a  few 
years,  he  was  taken  home  to  enjoy  an  early 
reward.  He  ministered  what  consolation  he 
could  to  me.  He  was  going  to  Chatham  for 
the  ensuing  sabbath,  prevailed  upon  me  to 
bear  him  company  as  far  as  Gravesend,  and 
advised  me  to  stop  there  a  few  days  to  divert 
my  distress  of  mind.  While  at  Gravesend, 
the  congregation  of  Chatham  sent  me  an  in- 
vitation to  preach  to  them,  and  desired  me  to 
fix  the  time  for  my  coming.  Mr.  How  urged 
my  embracing  the  invitation.  The  day 
for  my  going  was  fixed,  and  it  being  near 
Christmas,  I  chose  the  angel's  message  to 
the  shepherds,  as  proper  for  the  season,  and 
for  a  stranger  to  introduce  himself  with  into 
a  new  congregation.  But  what  a  situation 
did  I  seem  to  be  in  !  1  never  can  forget  the 
moment  I  entered  the  pulpit,  the  deadness 
that  seized  my  soul,  and  the  cloud  that  over- 
spread my  understanding.  I  was  so  shut  up 
that  I  did  not  think  it  possible  any  thing 
spoken  could  gain  acceptance.  I  was  ashamed 
to  see  any  body  afterwards,  and  continued  in 
the  pulpit  till  the  congregation  was  quite 
gone,  though  several  loitered  about  the  door. 
[  had  various  conjectures  concerning  the 
treatment  I  might  receive  in  going  into  the 
house ;  upon  the  whole,  I  concluded  that 
though  humanity  might  be  exercised  towards 
me,  disapprobation  of  my  service  must  be 
expressed  ;  and  that  I  should  be  forbidden  to 
enter  the  pulpit  again.  But  to  my  great  sur- 
prise, 1  found  the  people  lingering  about  the 
door  anxious  to  embrace  an  opportunity  to 
express  the  satisfaction  they  received ;  the 
dwelling-house  likewise  was  full  of  friends, 


all  of  whom  took  me  by  the  hand,  gave  me 
their  blessing,  and  said  they  had  been  re- 
minded of  old  times;  and  without  consulting 
me  upon  the  matter,  proceeded  to  plan  me 
out  a  round  for  preaching  for  many  days  ;  but 
I  opposed  the  motion,  telling  them  "that  I  only 
came  into  the  country  by  the  advice  of  my 
friend  Mr.  How,  to  relax  my  mind  for  a  few 
days,  and  that  I  must  return  to  London  to 
seek  after  business.  They  opposed  my  de- 
termination, remarking  that  I  was  a  young 
man  free  of  incumbrance,  and  quite  at  liberty ; 
that  they  thought  preaching  the  gospel  was 
business  sufficient  for  me,  to  which  I  might 
attend  without  being  burdensome  to  the 
church.  I  spent  a  few  weeks  between 
Gravesend  and  Canterbury,  but  was  under 
great  uneasiness  of  mind,  and  on  my  return 
to  London  visited  the  Rev.  Mr.  Elliot,  with 
whom  I  had  a  prior  acquaintance,  and  who, 
as  well  as  Mr.  Green,  had  encouraged  me  to 
embark  in  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

I  know  not  whether  any  one  has  put  forth 
Mr.  Elliot's  life,  therefore  would  devote  a 
few  lines  to  represent  him.  He  was  born  in 
the  west  of  England,  finished  his  education 
atBennet's  College,  Cambridge.  His  princi- 
pal preferment  was  a  chaplainship  at  St. 
George's  Hospital,  Hyde-park.  He  was  a  pro- 
found mathematician,  of  very  deep  and  close 
thought  upon  divinity  subjects,  a  very  hum- 
ble, holy  man,  who  exercised  great  grace  in 
deep  poverty.  Dr.  Dodd  endeavoured  to  raise 
himself  at  the  expense  of  this  good  man's 
reputation,  and  exciting  an  alarm  at  a  ser- 
mon he  preached  upon  Gal.  ii.  21.,  became 
the  means  of  his  being  turned  out  of  his  chap- 
lainship. He  printed  the  exceptionable  ser- 
mon under  a  title  that  made  it  still  more  ex- 
ceptionable. He  publicly  addressed  the  doc- 
tor in  a  letter,  at  the  reading  of  which,  I  have 
good  reason  to  say,  he  fainted.  Mr.  Elliot, 
whose  propensity  to  close  thinking  led  him 
to  weigh  exactly  every  subject  he  took  in 
hand,  found  no  difficulty  in  leaving  the  esta- 
blishment. He  became  the  pastor  of  a  church 
of  his  own  raising,  which  was  well  organized, 
and  assembled  at  a  meeting-house  in  Can- 
non-street. He  was  universally  esteemed 
by  Christians  of  all  denominations;  and  was 
requested,  in  the  year  1762,  the  time  of  Mr. 
Whitefield's  long  suspension  from  labour,  to 
become  his  assistant  at  Tottenham-court ;  but 
his  gifts  by  no  means  suited  that  congrega- 
tion, and  it  dwindled  under  him  to  such  a  de- 
gree, that  he  could  not  be  continued.  Mr. 
Watts,  bookseller,  near  Moorfields,  a  man  of 
learning  and  close  reasoning,  became  one  of 
his  church  members.  In  a  conference-meet- 
ing, Mr.  Watts  entered  into  a  very  warm  de- 
bate with  him  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  Tri- 
nity ;  the  debate  was  occasioned  by  some  little 
accidental  circumstance,  which  arose  in  the 
course  of  the  conference,  and  it  drove  poor 
Mr.  Elliot  into  Sabellianism.    By  this  event 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


21 


he  lost  his  respect  and  popularity,  lived  in 
poverty  and  obscurity,  and  died  in  the  pulpit 
while  preaching  to  a  small  congregation, 
which  constantly  heard  him  in  Glass-house- 
yard,  Goswell-street.  He  once  had  a  very 
violent  fever,  which  threatened  his  life ;  in 
the  delirium  of  which  he  went  through  a  ser- 
vice, supposed  by  him  public,  repeated  his 
text,  and  preached  his  sermon  with  the  strict- 
est propriety.  He  once  told  Mr.  How,  that 
he  studied  the  doctrine  of  election  with  that 
intenseness,  that  he  knew  not  whether  he 
came  out  of  his  study  upon  his  head  or  upon 
his  heels.  His  wife  was  a  considerable  trial 
to  him.  She  acquired  good  property  by  the 
millinery  business,  but  denied  him  the  com- 
fort of  it.  He  was  sometimes  obliged  to  sell 
his  books  for  bread  ;  but  while  poor  himself, 
he  was  a  friend  to  the  poor.  By  the  hard 
measures  he  latterly  met  with,  he  became  a 
little  petulant ;  but  he  bore  his  persecutions 
for  Christ's  sake,  and  his  family  trials,  with 
great  temper  and  composure,  and  was  a  great 
ornament  to  his  profession.  He  has  left  se- 
veral performances.  Those  in  favour  of  his 
new  sentiment  I  am  a  stranger  to.  Those 
relati.ig  to  the  peculiar  truths  of  the  gospel 
are  worthy  of  attention;  he  was  very  harsh 
in  his  delivery,  close  in  his  reasoning,  and 
unimbellished  in  his  style. 

Of  Mr.  Green  above  mentioned,  it  is  to  be 
observed,  that  he  was  a  fine  classical  scholar, 
and  that  he  also  understood  the  mathematics 
well.  He  said  he  was  a  competent  master 
of  eight  languages,  but  he  was  a  very  un- 
couth reader  and  speaker.  He  never  could 
gain  a  congregation  at  Tottenham-court ;  at 
Fetter-lane,  he  met  with  attention.  The 
liberty  he  gave  to  any  to  speak,  opened  a  way 
for  the  Antinomians  to  deliver  their  senti- 
ments, with  whom  he  entered  into  large  and 
long  public  disputations.  His  Monday  eve- 
ning exercises  degenerated  into  formal  dis- 
putes, and  knowing  his  strength,  he  was  forid 
of  them.  The  Arians  took  him  up,  and  by 
one  of  them  he  was  one  evening  so  foiled, 
that  he  publicly  acknowledged  he  had  been 
wrong  all  his  life  in  his  notions  of  the  Tri- 
nity, notwithstanding  he  hail  published  upon 
the  subject.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  con- 
tinued a  week.  It  produced  great  distress  of 
soul,  and  though  he  died  sound  in  the  faith, 
he  was  so  shocked  by  his  temporary  recanta- 
tion of  it,  that  he  never  after  lifted  up  his 
head. 

The  case  of  these  two  good  men  is  a  cau- 
tion to  us  not  to  be  too  confident  in  our  pow- 
ers. While  I  think  of  them,  I  think  also  of 
the  Apostle's  admonition,  "  Let  him  that 
thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 
Many  good  men,  designing  honestly  to  defend 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  err  shockingly  in 
their  illustrations  of  it;  and  give  more  ad- 
vantage to  the  adversary  than  they  are  aware 
of,  as  well  as  drive  their  opponents  into  no- 


tions they  never  would  have  thought  of,  had 
they  been  treated  with  more  temper.  We  are 
safe  by  taking  the  subject  as  the  sacred  Scrip- 
ture gives  it,  and  by  avoiding  to  explain  what 
is  inexplicable. 

Let  us,  my  dearest  friend,  adore  what  we 
cannot  comprehend,  and  shield  ourselves  from 
error  by  the  words  which  the  Holy  Ghost 
teacheth.  Rather  than  puzzle  ourselves  and 
our  hearers  with  matters  which  are  too  high 
for  either,  let  us  be  content  with  things  re- 
vealed. In  my  last  interview  with  Mr.  Elliot, 
he  said  he  heard  me  advance  with  accept- 
ance the  very  same  things  he  did  with  dis- 
gust I  told  him,  when  a  man's  sentiments 
are  supposed  orthodox,  people  will  give  him 
credit;  that  the  subject,  for  he  mentioned  it, 
evidently  led  me  to  treat  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
his  mediatorial  capacity.  I  heard  him  that 
evening  preach  an  excellent  sermon  from 
Heb.  xiii.  5.  I  hope,  through  the  grace  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  is  now  in  glory. 
That  we  may  there  meet  him  is  the  prayer 
of,  my  very  dear  friend,  yours,  affectionately, 
&c. 


LETTER  VII. 

My  very  dear  friend, — To  them  that 
suffer  according  to  the  will  of  God,  is  the  in- 
struction, that  they  should  commit  the  keep- 
ing of  their  souls  to  him.  May  we  not  un- 
derstand the  apostle  Peter,  by  a  figure  of 
speech  recommending  the  resignation  of  the 
whole  man  to  God  1  The  admonition  befits 
not  only  the  fiercely  persecuted,  to  whom  it 
was  first  addressed,  but  likewise  others  in 
every  age,  and  with  the  rest,  those  who  are 
in  such  a  state  of  preponderation  as  to  be  un- 
certain which  way  the  balance  will  turn; 
whose  path  is  so  intricate  that  they  know  not 
which  way  to  go ;  the  prospect  of  whose  duty 
is  so  obscured,  as  that  they  know  not  what  to 
do.  This  was  really  the  case  with  me,  when 
I  returned  from  my  Chatham  excursion.  I 
earnestly  sought  employ  in  the  business  to 
which  I  had  been  brought  up,  but  could  ob- 
tain none.  I  did  not  on  any  consideration  in- 
tend to  see  Mr.  Winter;  I  very  studiously 
avoided  his  house  and  person,  nor  did  I  see 
him  for  some  months  after.  My  absence  from 
London  alarmed  many  of  my  Christian  friends, 
some  of  whom  censured  me.  While  I  was 
conscious  to  myself,  I  did  not  wish  to  eat  the 
bread  of  idleness,  my  present  circumstances 
were  attributed  to  indolence  of  disposition. 
This  made  my  burden  the  heavier.  Mr.  El- 
liot, whom  I  frequently  called  upon,  encou- 
raged me  to  preach  ;  but  I  one  day  told  him, 
such  were  the  surmises  of  my  friends,  that  it 
became  necessary  I  should  convince  them  they 
were  under  a  mistake,  by  turning  my  thoughts 
to  service ;  and  I  begged  him  to  use  his  en- 
|  deavours  to  procure  me  a  place.  He  warmly 


•22 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


remonstrated  against  such  a  step,  pressed  me 
with  questions  respecting  my  call  to  preach 
the  gospel,  submitted  to  my  consideration,  1 
Cor.  ix.  16,  and  requested  me  patiently  to  wait 
for  the  opening  of  Providence.  He  had  taken 
upon  him  the  superintendency  of  the  congre- 
gation on  Portsmouth  Common,  at  their  par- 
ticular desire,  in  which  he  had  been  made 
very  useful,  by  the  repeated  visits  he  had 
made.  This  congregation  had  been  raised  by 
Mr.  Whitefield,  and  his  assistants,  but  had 
been  long  in  a  state  of  neglect,  or  visited 
very  seldom.    Mr.  Elliot  introduced  me  to 
this  people,  and  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  bless 
my  efforts  among  them.  I  twice  repeated  my 
visit.  But  whatever  pleasure  the  people  gain- 
ed, they  were  seasons  of  humiliation  to  me. 
I  began  to  see  the  importance  of  the  work  in 
a  stronger  light  than  ever ;  rny  insufficiency  for 
it  likewise  affected  me  much.  I  strove  to  medi- 
tate, but  could  not ;  and  often  went  into  the 
pulpit  unprepared.    It  must  be  observed  all 
this  time,  I  was  wholly  illiterate.    My  unset- 
tled state  was  unfavourable  to  improvement, 
and  I  had  no  one  to  give  me  the  least  instruc- 
tion.   Unfortunately,  I  adopted  the  Hebrew 
instead  of  the  English  grammar,  by  which 
my  idea  of  the  subject  of  grammar  was  too 
superficial;  and  I  was  a  considerable  time 
before  I  could  understand  the  doctrine  of  the 
eight  parts  of  speech.    I  now  also  entered 
upon  the  Latin  and  Greek  grammar.  By 
reading  good  authors,  I  saw  my  own  defects 
in  their  excellencies,  and  endeavoured  to  cor- 
rect them.    My  poverty  and  want  of  retire- 
ment, were  great  obstructions  to  my  progress. 
The  gratuities  I  received  for  my  service, 
merely  defrayed  my  journies.    My  clerical 
friends  gave  me  neither  hints  nor  helps.  I 
frequently  pored  over  subjects,  and  left  them 
as  I  found  them.    I  had  not  resolution  to  ask 
questions  of  those  who  might  have  helped 
me.    My  modesty  has  in  this  been  a  disad- 
vantage to  me,  and  it  may  be  pride  has  at- 
tached itself  to  modesty.  Men  of  understand- 
ing, and  of  some  literature,  have  usually  made 
a  part  of  the  congregations  I  preached  to  at 
my  first  coming  out;  and  when  I  have  sus- 
pected them  to  be  present,  it  was  a  vast  em- 
barrassment to  me.   I  fell  under  one  mistake, 
against  which  young  preachers  should  be 
guarded,  especially  they  who  come  out  under 
deficiency  of  knowledge,  and  that  was  being 
devoted  to  letter  writing.    How  much  time 
have  I  employed  in  that  way,  which  should 
have  been  devoted  to  the  preparation  for  the 
pulpit !    The  motive  for  so  doing  was  pure, 
though  the  thing  itself  was  wrong.    I  should 
have  recollected  that  pulpit  exercises  and 
literary  pursuits  required  my  time.    I  did  in- 
deed recollect,  but  fainted  and  sunk  under 
discouragement.    I  visited  too  often,  and 
made  my  visits  too  long.    One  circumstance 
I  cannot  omit  to  take  notice  of — I  sometimes 
was  in  a  state  of  doubt  respecting  the  propri- 


ety of  the  constructions  I  put  opon  texts  of 
Scripture,  which  I  had  selected  for  my  use  in 
the  pulpit.  I  had  not  met  with  expository 
helps ;  when  being  asked  to  dine  with  a  re- 
spectable tradesman,  and  going  some  time 
before  dinner,  I  was  introduced  into  a  parlour, 
where  was  a  large  book-case,  which  contain- 
ed Dr.  Gill's  exposition.  I  amused  myself  by 
referring  to  particular  texts  I  had  preached 
from  at  different  times,  on  which  I  gained 
no  information,  but  relied  on  my  own  medi- 
tation ;  and  in  every  one  I  found  a  coinci- 
dence of  thought  with  the  doctor.  This  was 
a  comfort  to  me. 

Whatever  deficiency  I  was  under,  the  Lord 
conveyed  a  blessing  by  the  use  of  such  a  de- 
gree of  ability  as  I  possessed.    An  innovation 
being  made  upon  the  Calvinistic  cause  at 
Sheerness  by  Mr.  Wesley's  people,  occasion- 
ed the  leading  people  in  that  place,  who  had 
contented  themselves  with  reading  sermons, 
rather  than  countenance  men  of  inferior  ta- 
lents, to  make  exertion  for  immediate  help, 
while  I  was  spending  my  time  between  Can- 
terbury and  Chatham.    I  was  therefore  in- 
vited over  in  haste.    I  walked  over  from 
Sittingbourn  on  a  severe  winter's  day,  and 
in  the  evening,  addressed  the  people  from 
Judges  vi.  13.    It  had  an  amazing  effect.  I 
became  a  frequent  and  an  acceptable  visiter, 
and  cannot  easily  forget  the  times  of  refresh- 
ing the  Lord  vouchsafed  us  from  his  presence. 
Mr.  Shrubsole,  who  till  then  had  contented 
himself  with  being  a  reader,  from  that  time 
became  a  preacher ;  and  the  cause,  till  then 
cramped,  became  under  his  ministry  very 
flourishing.    There  lived  an  eminent  old 
saint  by  the  name  of  Wadsworth,  who  had 
been  separated  from  the  society  by  disgust, 
but  from  that  time  became  reconciled  and  re- 
united; and  as  the  testimony  of  his  affection 
to  me,  when  he  died,  left  me  half-a-crown 
and  his  Bible.    The  first  legacy  I  ever  re- 
ceived. 

At  this  period,  which  was  1766,  I  was 
wandering  in  the  parts  mentioned  already, 
and  waiting  for  farther  intimations  of  the  will 
of  God.  I  had  frequently  heard  Mr.  White- 
field  lament  the  want  of  ministers  in  America. 
I  knew  he  had  sent  some  who  were  equally 
deficient  in  point  of  learning  with  myself,  and 
I  concluded,  from  the  kind  reception  their 
ministry  had  met  with,  my  labours,  with  the 
blessing  of  God,  might  be  acceptable  also. 
But  a  difficulty  was  before  me,  which  was, 
how  to  gain  an  introduction  to  Mr.  White- 
field.  He  was  accessible  but  to  few.  I 
knew  his  connexions  were  very  large;  and 
this  may  be  admitted  as  a  reasonable  apology 
for  the  caution  which  he  used  in  admitting 
people  to  him.  He  would  never  be  surprised 
into  conversation.  You  could  not  knock  at 
his  door  and  be  allowed  to  enter  at  any  time. 
"  Who  is  it  ?"  "  What  is  his  business  ]"  and 
such  like  inquiries,  usually  preceded  admis- 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


23 


sion;  and  if  admission  were  granted,  it  was 
thus:  "Tell  him  to  come  to-morrow  morn- 
ing at  six  o'clock,  perhaps  five,  or  immediate- 
ly after  preaching ;  if  he  is  later,  I  cannot 
see  him."  A  person  who  went  to  consult 
him  upon  going  into  the  ministry,  might  ex- 
pect to  be  treated  with  severity,  if  not  well 
recommended,  or  if  he  had  not  something 
about  him  particularly  engaging.  One  man 
saying,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  that  he  was 
a  taylor,  was  dismissed  with,  "  Go  to  rag-fair 
and  buy  old  clothes."  Another,  who  after- 
wards was  of  the  clerical  order,  but  sadly 
disgraced  it,  was  admitted  to  preach  in  the 
vestry,  one  winter's  morning  at  six  o'clock, 
as  a  probationer.  When  a  good  domestic 
came  into  the  study,  the  question  was, 
"  Well,  Betty,  what  was  the  text  this  morn- 
ing?" "  These  that  have  turned  the  world 
upside  down  have  come  hither  also." — "  That 
man  shall  come  no  more  here ;  if  God  had 
called  him  to  preach,  he  would  have  furnish- 
ed him  with  a  proper  text." — A  letter  well 
written  as  to  style,  orthography,  and  decency, 
would  prepossess  him  much  in  favour  of  a 
person. 

By  means  of  a  pious  young  acquaintance,  a 
native  of  Royston,  in  Hertfordshire,  I  had 
been  introduced  to  Mr.  Berridge,  vicar  of 
Evcrton,  whose  history  is  so  well  known  that 
nothing  need  be  said  of  him.  He  had  given 
me  countenance,  I  had  gained  the  attention 
and  esteem  of  many  of  his  congregation,  and 
he  had  endeared  himself  much  to  me,  by  his 
paternal  deportment,  and  apostolic  advice, 
such  as  I  have  found  of  excellent  use  in  every 
stage  of  my  ministry.  I  knew  from  the  af- 
fection with  which  Mr.  Whitefield  always 
mentioned  his  name,  and  the  honour  in  which 
he  held  his  services,  he  must  have  great  in- 
fluence with  him.  I  therefore  paid  a  third 
visit  to  him,  purposely  to  acquaint  him  with 
my  views  and  wishes,  and  to  beg  him  to  in- 
troduce me  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  that  I  might 
by  him  be  placed  in  some  situation  in  Ame- 
rica. O  how  kind  did  this  man  of  God  be- 
have to  me  upon  this  occasion! 

After  having  laid  before  me  the  many 
difficulties  he  judged  I  must  meet  with,  and 
having  very  seriously  exhorted  me  to  pray  to 
God  to  grant  me  direction  and  submission,  he 
complied  with  my  request,  and  sent  me  back 
to  London  with  a  letter  to  Mr.  Whitefield. 
He  gave  me  a  mild  reception ;  the  interview 
was  short.  It  was  on  Wednesday  I  waited 
upon  him;  he  said  he  should  expect  me  to 
preach  at  the  Tabernacle  on  the  next  morn- 
ing at  six  o'clock,  and  appointed  the  time 
when  I  should  again  come  to  him.  I  heard 
him  in  the  evening,  and  felt  much  when  he 
informed  the  congregation,  that  a  stranger, 
recommended  by  Mr.  Berridge,  would  preach 
on  the  morrow  morning  at  six  o'clock.  I  had 
little  rest  that  night,  and  prayed  rather  than 
studied  for  the  service.    A  larger  congrega- 


tion than  usual  assembled.  The  sextoness 
was  astonished  when  she  found  1  was  going 
into  the  pulpit.  When  I  made  my  appear- 
ance, the  people  were  as  much  struck  by  see- 
ing me,  for  many  knew  me,  as  I  was  by  their 
general  whisper.  I  endeavoured  to  speak 
from  Eph.  iii.  4.  I  was  so  exceedingly  agi- 
tated that  I  knew  not  what  I  said.  From 
that  morning,  however,  the  prejudice  of  my 
religious  friends,  under  whose  censure  I  had 
lain,  was  removed,  and  I  found  it  a  blessing 
to  have  Mr.  Whitefield's  suffrage.  This  was 
in  February  1767,  and  I  was  under  promise 
to  pay  Portsmouth  another  visit.  Mr.  White- 
field  desired  me  to  procure  him  a  testimonium 
of  myself  from  different  places,  whither  I  had 
gone,  which  I  did,  and  in  my  absence,  to 
write  him  some  account  of  the  dealings  of 
God  with  me  in  his  Providence  and  grace. 
He  said  he  should  have  occasion  to  show  it 
to  some  friends,  and  if  any  thing  should  turn 
out  favourable,  he  would  let  me  know ;  ac- 
cordingly I  wrote  him  some  account,  and  in 
a  week  after  was  honoured  with  his  first  let- 
ter, of  which  the  following  is  an  exact  copy  : 

"  London,  January  29,  1767. 
"Dear  Mr.  Winter, — Your  letter  met 
with  proper  acceptance. — The  first  thing  to 
be  done  now  is  to  get  some  knowledge  of  the 
Latin — the  method  to  be  pursued  we  can 
talk  of  at  your  return  to  London.  Mr.  Green 
would  make  a  suitable  master — no  time 
should  be  lost — one  would  hope  that  the  vari- 
ous humiliations  you  have  met  with  were 
intended  as  preparations  for  future  exalta- 
tions.— The  greatest  preferment  under  hea- 
ven, is  to  be  an  able,  painful,  faithful,  success- 
ful, suffering,  cast-out  minister  of  the  New 
Testament.  That  this  may  be  your  happy 
lot  is  the  hearty  prayer  of,  dear  Mr.  Winter, 
yours,  &c.  in  our  common  Lord, 

"G.  W." 

This  letter  exceedingly  animated  me,  and 
my  expectations  began  to  soar ;  but  by  reflec- 
tion, I  was  enabled  to  check  them.  I  con- 
sidered that  the  best  of  men  are  but  men; 
and  thought  if  by  Mr.  Whitefield's  i  nstru- 
mentality  I  should  be  brought  into  a  desirable 
situation,  trials  would  be  answerable  to  it. 
At  the  commencement  of  my  connexion  with 
my  honoured  friend,  and  since,  I  have  found 
it  good,  neither  to  seek  nor  to  expect  great 
things. 

The  morning  after  I  returned  from  Ports- 
mouth, I  waited  early  upon  Mr.  Whitefield. 
He  received  me  with  a  mixture  of  kindness 
and  severity ;  and  for  several  days  kept  me 
in  a  state  of  suspense.  At  last  he  set  me 
upon  a  little  business,  and  told  me  he  should 
expect  me  to  preach  two  mornings  in  the 
week.  He  appointed  me  particular  times  when 
I  was  to  call  upon  him  ;  when  besides  send- 
ing me  upon  some  errands,  of  which  he 
always  had  a  great  number,  he  set  me  to 


21 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


transcribe  some  of  his  manuscripts.  He 
showed  himself  much  dissatisfied  with  my 
writing  and  orthography,  both  of  which  cer- 
tainly stood  in  need  of  correction.  He  de- 
sired me  to  take  a  lodging  near  the  chapel, 
where  he  could  conveniently  send  for  me  ; 
gave  me  a  little  money  to  defray  my  ex- 
penses, and  by  degrees  brought  me  into  a 
capacity  to  be  useful  to  him.  1  was  very 
enervated  indeed,  my  scene  was  new,  I  was 
filled  with  fear,  and  shocked  by  the  cautious 
behaviour  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  for  which  I  can 
plead  an  excuse.  He  had  frequently  been 
imposed  upon  by  people  who  had  very  un- 
generously served  themselves  of  him,  with- 
out being  of  any  service  to  him.  In  the  lat- 
ter part  of  his  life  he  was  particularly  cau- 
tious how  he  disposed  of  his  favours ;  but 
notwithstanding,  he  was  liable  to  considerable 
imposition.  Soon  after,  he  proposed  my  go- 
ing to  Mr.  Green's  for  a  few  hours  in  the 
day,  to  be  initiated  into  the  Latin  grammar ; 
but  he  interrupted  the  design  by  requiring 
a  close  attention  to  his  own  business,  and  the 
large  demand  he  made  of  my  pulpit  services; 
for  it  pleased  God  to  give  my  ministry  a 
very  kind  acceptance,  and  I  have  met  with 
some  instances  of  its  having  been  useful.  A 
single  quarter  of  a  year  closed  my  school 
exercise,  in  which  I  am  ashamed  but  con- 
strained to  say  I  hardly  gained  knowledge 
enough  to  decline  musa.  It  was  plain  Mr. 
Whitefield  did  not  intend  to  promote  my 
literary  improvement.  Indeed,  he  said,  Latin 
was  of  little  or  no  use,  and  that  they  who 
wish  to  enter  upon  it  late  in  life,  had  better 
endeavour  to  acquire  a  good  knowledge  ,  of 
their  mother  tongue,  in  which  many  preachers, 
while  they  aim  at  Latin,  are  very  deficient. 
Having  just  at  this  time  attended  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's conference,  and  having  heard  him  speak 
to  the  same  effect,  he  was  confirmed  in  this 
sentiment,  and  discouraged  any  perseverance. 
Notwithstanding  Mr.  Whitefield's  opinion 
thus  freely  expressed,  and  his  deportment  to 
me  corresponding  with  it,  my  mind  hankered 
greatly  after  some  smatterings  of  Latin  and 
Greek ;  partly  that  the  want  of  it  might  be 
no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  my  ordination,  and 
partly  to  cut  off  objections  against  my  mi- 
nistry from  them  who  are  apt  to  think  it  a 
sine  qua  non  for  a  preacher.  But  I  had  much 
temptation  to  relax  my  exertion,  my  memory 
being  very  bad,  my  nerves  weak,  and  my 
genius  small.  Yet  sensible  of  the  value  of 
a  good  education,  I  have  never  neglected  an 
effort  after  a  portion  of  it.  Considering 
the  weakness  of  my  capacity,  and  that  for 
many  years  I  had  no  settled  place  of  abode, 
nor  any  person  to  assist  me  ;  that  I  have  been 
constantly  employed  in  preaching  the  word 
almost  every  night  in  the  week  to  different 
congregations,  and  twice  or  thrice  every 
sabbath  through  the  year,  I  have  cause  to  be 
thankful  for  the  little   I  have  acquired. 


What  a  story  I  have  got  into :  it  swells,  and 
I  fear  will  become  tedious.  If  you  had  not 
pressed  me  to  give  it  you,  I  would  not  have 
imposed  it  upon  you.  One  circumstance  is 
an  introduction  to  another,  in  the  review  of 
which  I  am  affected  with  humiliation  and 
thankfulness.  How  far  you  may  be  gratified 
I  cannot  say.  It  is  a  story  that  in  the  sequel 
connects  with  the  Lord's  dealings  with  you. 
That  he  may  deal  bountifully  with  you  to 
the  end  of  your  days,  as  he  has  in  the  begin- 
ning of  them,  is  the  prayer  of,  my  very 
dear  friend,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  VIII.  • 

My  very  dear  friend, — Did  it  ever 
strike  you  that  I  am  of  a  timid  turn  of  mind ! 
I  had  a  great  deal  more  of  it  in  my  youth 
than  I  had  at  the  time  you  first  knew  me,  or 
than  I  now  have.  As  though  the  late  Mr. 
Winter  were  the  principal  person  in  the 
world  I  had  occasion  to  fear,  I  was  in  perpe- 
tual dread  of  him.  He  was  a  great  enemy 
to  the  gospel,  very  keen  to  observe  what  was 
amiss  in  its  professors,  and  very  high  in  his 
religious  principles.  Some  circumstances 
in  my  early  connexion  with  Mr.  Whitefield, 
had  he  been  permitted  to  have  known  them, 
would  have  been  remarked  with  just  severity. 
When  it  was  reported  to  him  that  I  preached 
at  the  Tabernacle,  he  disbelieved  it,  say- 
ing, "Whitefield  would  not  let  ■  such  a  fool 
stand  up  in  his  place ;"  but  finding  it  true,  he 
said  "  he  \vbuld  suffer  a  chimney-sweeper 
to  preach  to  save  himself."  Of  all  reflec- 
tions ever  cast  upon  Mr.  Whitefield,  this 
should  have  been  the  last,  for  self-sparing 
was  no  part  of  his  character.  He  attempted 
to  gratify  his  curiosity  several  times  by  hear- 
ing me,  but  was  disappointed.  In  coming 
one  time,  he  heard  Mr.  Middleton,  who  was 
the  most  methodical  preacher  in  the  Taber- 
nacle at  that  time.  He  was  treating  upon 
the  Lord's  supper.  He  gained  Mr.  Winter's 
attention,  who  then  for  the  first  time,  thought 
any  thing  offered  at  the  Tabernacle  worthy 
of  regard.  He  came  afterwards  with  inten- 
tion to  hear  Mr.  Whitefield  seriously,  whom 
he  had  often  heard  in  ridicule,  and  it  pleased 
God  to  make  the  word  efficacious.  The 
effect  was  blessed  indeed.  His  family  had 
the  comfort  of  it,  and  it  was  visible  to  all 
who  knew  him. 

Instantly  upon  the  removal  of  his  preju- 
dices he  sent  for  me  to  come  to  his  house, 
took  opportunity  to  lament  that  his  deport- 
ment had  been  very  unsuitable  to  me,  assured 
me  he  had  nothing  against  me,  and  wished 
me  to  overlook  all  that  was  wrong.  He  be- 
came a  communicant  at  the  Tabernacle,  and 
though  he  afterwards  dropped  into  some  of 
his  former  life,  and  was  staggered  by  the 
bad  conduct  of  some  professors,  from  the  re- 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


85 


port  I  had  of  his  dying  moments  by  a  good 
man  not  liable  to  be  imposed  upon,  I  hope 
all  ended  well.  Though  I  had  freemen t  in- 
tercourse with  him,  and  a  close  correspond- 
ence, and  he  went  some  of  my  journies  with 
me,  yet  I  never  could  be  truly  open  and  fa- 
miliar with  him. 

I  am  afraid  to  say  every  thing  which  might 
be  brought  upon  the  tapis  lor  three  years.— 
Perhaps  it  would  be  putting  the  picture  of  so 
valuable  a  man  as  Mr.  Whitefield  was,  into 
too  deep  a  shade,  to  say  that  he  was  not  a  tit 
person  for  a  young  man  in  humble  circum- 
stances to  be  connected  with.  He  was  not 
satisfied  with  deficient  abilities,  but  he  did 
not  sufficiently  encourage  the  use  of  the 
lamp  for  their  improvement.  The  attention 
of  a  youth  designed  for  the  ministry,  was  too 
much  diverted  from  the  main  object,  and  de- 
voted too  much  to  objects  comparatively  tri- 
fling. I  was  considered  as  much  the  steward 
of  his  house  as  his  assistant  in  the  ministry. 
While  I  was  kept  in  bay  and  at  anchor, 
many  piloted  by  him,  set  sail,  and  I  at  last 
knew  not  whether  I  were  to  indulge  a  hope 
for  America  or  not.  My  fidelity  being 
proved,  I  became  one  of  the  family,  slept  in 
the  room  of  my  honoured  patron,  and  had  the 
privilege  to  sit  at  his  table.  I  judged  I  was 
where  I  should  be ;  and  was  determined 
never  to  flinch  from  the  path  of  duty,  nor  in- 
tentionally to  grieve  the  man  whom  I  knew 
had  many  burdens  upon  him,  and  for  whom  I 
could  have  laid  down  my  life.  But  I  was 
unequal  to  my  sphere,  and  sunk  under  my 
burden.  It  pleased  the  Lord  thrice  in  the 
year  to  lay  me  upon  a  bed  of  sickness.  In 
a  letter  from  Mr.  Whitefield  to  Mr.  Adams, 
dated  October  12,  1767,  stands  this  sentence, 
"  Heaven  is  the  believer's  only  resting  place. 
There  we  shall  not  be  disturbed ;  I  do  not 
know  but  Mr.  Winter  will  get  there  soon ; 
at  present  he  is  very  ill."  The  faculty  who 
attended  me,  said  my  life  was  precarious, 
and  advised  my  being  sent  into  the  country. 
Their  advice  opened  a  way  for  my  first 
journey  to  Bristol,  where  I  was  eight  months, 
preaching  and  meeting  the  society  every 
night  in  the  week,  and  preaching  three  times 
on  a  Sabbath-day,  except  now  and  then,  when 
a  minister  came  through  the  city.  At  my 
first  going,  few  could  hear  me  speak ;  but 
the  Lord  strengthened  body  and  voice  to- 
gether, and  attended  his  word  with  his  bless- 
ing. 

On  my  return,  I  found  Mr.  Whitefield  had 
been  busy  and  successful  in  getting  one  and 
another  ordained  for  the  colonies,  but  he 
made  no  motion  for  me ;  this  I  thought  hard, 
though  I  concealed  the  feeling  of  my  disap- 
pointment. I  now  and  then  signified  to  Mr. 
Whitefield,  that  my  inclination  for  America 
was  as  strong  as  ever.  Imprudences  in  some 
of  the  missionaries,  and  the  unbecoming 
manner  in  which  others  applied  to  the  society 
D  3 


for  propagating  the  gospel,  fbr  admission  into 
their  service,  made  my  application  for  ordeTS 
much  more  difficult  than  it  would  formerly 
have  been.    While  on  a  second  visit  to  Bris- 
tol, which  held  four  months,  Mr.  Whitefield 
wrote  mo  a  letter,  informing  me  that  a  Mr. 
Wrigiit  who  was  a  very  principal  person 
with"  him,  had  agreed  with  his  relations  to 
go  to  Georgia,  to  put  the  Orphan-house  upon 
a  new  plan,  and  proposed  to  me  whether  I 
should  like  to  go  with  them,  there  prosecute 
my  studies,  and  be  considered  as  domestic 
chaplain.    I  returned   him  answer,  after 
making  his  motion  matter  of  prayer,  that  I 
did  not  find  freedom  to  go  without  ordination. 
This  answer  was  of  the  Lord,  for  I  was  after- 
wards convinced  that  my  going  then  and  un- 
der the  circumstances  proposed,  would  have 
involved  me  in  many  difficulties.  When  Mr. 
Wright  embarked  for  Georgia,  I  was  sent  for 
to  London ;  and  to  other  different  capacities, 
in  which  I  acted,  an  additional  one  was  to 
read  prayers,  and  bury  the  dead  at  Totten- 
ham-court chapel ;  an  employment  that  I  en- 
tered upon  only  to  oblige  my  most  highly  es- 
teemed patron;  for  I  knew,  besides  other 
inconveniences  it  would  subject  me  to,  it 
would  make  the  probability  of  ordination  at 
a  greater  distance  than  ever,  if  it  came  to 
the  bishop's  ear.    For  more  than  twelve 
months  I  performed  the  office  of  a  curate. 
Having  at  seasonable  opportunities  continued 
still  to  express  my  inclination  to  go  to  Ame- 
rica, Mr.  Whitefield  one  day  asked  me,  if  I 
should  have  any  objection  to  take  the  charge 
of  a  number  of  negroes  1  He  informed  me  at 
the  same  time  he  had  received  a  letter  from 
some  gentlemen,*  requesting  him  to  send 
them  over  a  proper  person  for  such  a  charge, 
and  observed,  that  after  entering  upon  it,  and 
being  recommended  home  for  ordination  for 
the  service,  there  was  no  doubt  but  I  should 
succeed.    This  had  great  weight  with  me, 
and  though  I  thought  it  a  tedious  method,  I 
was  in  hopes  it  would  answer  a  good  end  at 
last.    I  told  Mr.  Whitefield  I  would  give 
myself  to  his  disposal,  and  hoped  by  him  to 
discover  the  will  of  God.    Several  months 
past  after  this,  no  farther  notice  was  taken 
of  the  business,  though  letters  had  passed 
between  him  and  the  gentlemen  upon  it. 
The  reason  appeared  plain  to  me :  Mr.  White- 
field  had  made  me  very  useful  to  himself, 
eould  repose   confidence  in  me,  and  was 
unwilling  to  part  with   me.    He  had  so 
delayed  the  business,  that  by  the  time  I  had 
arrived  at  Georgia,  the  gentlemen  had  given 
over  all  thoughts  of  my  coming.    He  at  last 
came  to  a  determination  that  if  I  would  go,  I 
should  go  with  him,  and  when  the  time  of 
my  departure  was  at  hand,  I  went  out  not 

*  Those  were  the  executors  of  Mr.  Zububuhler,  late 
rector  of  Savannah  :  who  by  his  will  had  provided  for 
the  support  of  a  minister  to  instruct  his  negroes,  but 
enjoining  that  the  person  employed  should  be  a  clergy, 
man. 


26  MEMOIRS  OF 

knowing  whither  I  went,  nor  upon  what  con- 
dition. I  only  knew  that  I  was  bound  for 
Georgia,  and  that  I  was  going  to  teach  the 
negroes  the  way  of  salvation.  The  neces- 
sary preparations  for  the  voyage  so  engrossed 
my  attention  that  I  had  little  time  to  take  a 
formal  leave  of  my  friends,  nor  did  I  want 
it,  but  for  the  sake  of  a  select  few.  I  had  no 
inclination  to  preach  a  farewell  sermon,  but 
got  off  as  quietly  as  I  could  on  Friday,  Sep- 
tember 2d,  1769,  with  a  party  of  friends  in  a 
Gravesend  boat,  to  go  to  our  vessel  laying  at 
Gravesend.  Mr.  Whitefield  came  the  next 
day  with  a  very  large  party,  in  coaches  and 
chaises,  and  the  next  day  preached  two  ser- 
mons, one  in  the  morning  in  the  little  place 
called  the  Tabernacle,  for  the  use  of  the 
church  was  denied  him,  and  in  the  evening 
in  the  Market-place.  I  preached  in  the  af- 
ternoon. Several  of  the  company  breakfasted 
with  us  on  board  the  vessel,  on  Monday  morn- 
ing previous  to  the  final  leave,  which  they 
took  immediately  after. 

By  this  time  I  had  fully  found  out  dear 
Mr.  Whitefield's  complexion,  and  indeed 
long  before.  Not  doubting  but  that  by  Pro- 
vidence I  was  introduced  to  him,  highly  re- 
vering his  character,  and  affectionately  loving 
his  person,  I  was  determined  to  be  like  Dio- 
genes, who  would  rather  sustain  the  blows 
of  the  stick  of  his  master  Antisthenes,  than 
be  deprived  of  the  advantage  of  his  school. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  promiscuous 
traits  of  his  more  private  character,  and  I 
presume  this  is  no  improper  place  in  which 
to  give  them.  He  used  too  much  severity  to 
young  people,  and  required  too  much  from 
them.  He  connected  circumstances  too  hu- 
miliating with  public  services,  in  a  young 
man  with  whom  he  could  take  liberty :  urging 
that  it  was  necessary  as  a  curb  to  the  vanity 
of  human  nature,  and  referred  to  the  young 
Roman  orators,  who  after  being  exalted  by 
applauses,  were  sent  upon  the  most  trifling 
errands.  His  maxim  was,  if  you  love  me 
you  will  serve  me  disinterestedly ;  hence  he 
settled  no  certain  income,  or  a  very  slender 
one  upon  his  dependents,  many  of  whom 
were  sycophants,  and  while  they  professed 
to  serve  him,  under-handedly  served  them- 
selves effectually.  Under  this  defect  his  cha- 
rity in  Georgia  was  materially  injured,  owing 
to  the  wrong  conduct  of  some  who  insinuated 
themselves  into  his  favour  by  humouring  his 
weakness,  and  letting  him  act  and  speak 
without  contradiction.  He  was  impatient 
of  contradiction;  but  this  is  a  fault  to  be 
charged  upon  almost  all  great  people.  I 
could  mention  some.  He  was  not  happy  in 
his  wife,  but  I  fear  some,  who  had  not  all  the 
religion  they  professed,  contributed  to  his  in- 
felicity. He  did  not  intentionally  make  his 
wife  unhappy.  He  always  preserved  great 
decency  and  decorum  in  his  conduct  towards 
her.  Her  death  set  his  mind  much  at  liberty. 


C.  WINTER 

She  certainly  did  not  behave  in  all  respects 
as  she  ought.  She  could  be  under  no  tempt- 
ation from  his  conduct  towards  the  sex,  for 
he  was  a  very  pure  man,  a  strict  example  of 
the  chastity  he  inculcated  upon  others.  No 
time  was  to  be  wasted ;  and  his  expectations 
generally  went  before  the  ability  of  his  ser- 
vants to  perform  his  commands.  He  was 
very  exact  to  the  time  appointed  for  his  stated 
meals ;  a  few  minutes  delay  would  be  con- 
sidered a  great  fault  He  was  irritable,  but 
soon  appeased.  Not  patient  enough  one  day 
to  receive  a  reason  for  his  being  disappointed 
under  a  particular  occurrence,  he  hurt  the 
mind  of  one  who  was  studious  to  please ;  he 
discovered  it  by  the  tears  it  occasioned,  and 
on  reflection,  he  himself  burst  into  tears, 
saying,  "  I  shall  live  to  be  a  poor  peevish 
old  man,  and  every  body  will  be  tired  of  me." 
He  frequently  broke  the  force  of  his  passion 
by  saying,  "  How  could  you  do  so  1  I  would 
not  have  served  you  so."  He  never  com- 
manded haughtily,  and  always  took  care  to 
applaud  when  a  person  did  right.  He  never  in- 
dulged parties  at  his  table ;  a  select  few  might 
now  and  then  breakfast  with  him,  dine  with 
him  on  a  Sunday,  or  sup  with  him  on  a  Wed- 
nesday night.  In  the  latter  indulgence  he 
was  scrupulously  exact  to  break  up  in  time. 
In  the  height  of  a  conversation  I  have  known 
him  abruptly  say,  "  But  we  forget  ourselves," 
and  rising  from  his  seat,  and  advancing  to 
the  door,  add,  "  Come,  gentlemen,  it  is  time 
for  all  good  folks  to  be  at  home."  Whether 
only  by  himself,  or  having  but  his  second,  a 
table  must  have  been  spread  elegantly, 
though  it  produced  but  a  loaf  and  a  cheese. 
He  was  unjustly  charged  with  being  given 
to  appetite.  His  table  was  never  spread 
with  variety.  A  cow-heel  was  his  favourite 
dish,  and  I  have  known  him  cheerfully  say, 
"  How  surprised  would  the  world  be,  if  they 
were  to  peep  upon  Doctor  Squintum,  and  see 
a  cow-heel  only  upon  his  table."  He  was 
neat  to  the  extreme  in  his  person  and  every 
thing  about  him.  Not  a  paper  must  have 
been  out  of  place,  or  put  up  irregularly. 
Each  part  of  the  furniture  must  have  been 
likewise  in  its  place  before  we  retreated  to 
rest.  He  said  he  did  not  think  he  should 
die  easy,  if  he  thought  his  gloves  were  out 
of  their  place.  There  was  no  rest  after  four 
in  the  morning,  nor  sitting  up  after  ten  in 
the  evening.  He  never  made  a  purchase 
but  he  paid  the  money  immediately ;  for  small 
articles  the  money  was  taken  in  the  hand. 
He  was  truly  generous,  and  seldom  denied 
relief  More  was  expected  from  him  than 
was  meet.  He  was  tenacious  in  his  friend- 
ship, and  when  the  transition  of  Providence 
moved  from  prosperity  to  adversity,  he  moved 
witli  it  to  abide  by  his  friend.  He  felt  sen- 
sibly when  he  was  deserted,  and  would  re- 
mark, "The  world  and  the  church  ring 
changes."    Disappointed  by  many,  he  had 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


as 


not  sufficient  confidence  in  mankind ;  and 
from  hence  I  believe  it  was,  lie  dreaded  the 
thought  of  outliving  his  usefulness.  He  often 
dined  among  his  friends;  usually  connected 
a  comprehensive  prayer  with  his  thanks- 
giving when  the  table  was  dismissed,  in 
which  he  noticed  particular  cases  relative 
to  the  family ;  and  never  protracted  his  visit 
long  after  dinner.  He  appeared  often  tired 
of  popularity ;  and  said,  he  almost  envied  the 
man  who  could  take  his  choice  of  food  at  an 
eating-house,  and  pass  unnoticed.  He  appre- 
hended he  should  not  glorify  God  in  his  death 
by  any  remarkable  testimony,  and  was  desirous 
to  die  suddenly. 

Thus,  my  dear  friend,  I  have  aimed  to 
gather  up  the  fragments  of  a  character  truly 
excellent,  that  nothing  may  be  lost.  It  is  the 
character  of  a  man  who  had  his  infirmities, 
but  whose  excellencies  bore  a  far  greater 
proportion.  He  knew  himself,  and  lived  under 
a  measure  of  self-abhorrence,  but  he  knew  he 
was  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  and  extolled 
that  name  by  which  he  was  called.  Not  to 
detract,  but  justly  to  represent,  is  my  object 
in  what  I  have  written  concerning  him.  I  had 
no  claim  upon  him  when  he  took  me  into  his 
house.  I  was  abundantly  indebted  to  him  for 
his  kindness,  and  his  memory  will  be  dear  to 
me  while  witli  my  hand  1  can  subscribe  my- 
self, yours,  very  affectionately,  in  our  dear 
Lord  Jesus. 


LETTER  IX. 

My  very  dear  friend, — By  taking  notice 
of  the  history  of  the  first  Methodists,  you  may 
perceive  they  abounded  in  letter-writing.  I 
have  condemned  myself  for  indulging  corres- 
pondence, from  conviction  I  should  have  been 
otherwise  employed ;  but  I  have  felt  the  conso- 
lation arising  from  the  receipt  of  a  letter  to  be 
inexpressibly  great;  and  have  highly  gratified 
a  friend  by  the  writing  of  one.  Advice  is  often 
conveyed  by  correspondence,  that  proves  a 
guide  to  our  conduct ;  and  remarks,  applied  to 
our  own  case,  sometimes  prevent  hasty  steps, 
of  which,  on  reflection,  we  might  have  cause 
to  repent.  In  my  situation,  hitherto  described, 
letters  with  which  I  was  favoured  from  dear 
Mr.  Berridge,  were  of  great  use  indeed ;  an 
extract  I  will  here  insert  from  two  of  them. 

"Pray  frequently,  and  wait  quietly,  and 
the  Lord  will  make  your  way  plain. — Jesus 
trains  up  all  his  servants  to  waiting,  and  if 
you  are  called  to  the  ministry,  he  will  exer- 
cise your  soul  beforehand  with  sharp  conflicts. 
Joseph  must  be  cast  first  into  a  pit  by  his  own 
brethren,  then  into  a  prison  by  his  master,  be- 
fore he  rules  the  kingdom ;  and  David  must 
be  hunted  as  a  flea  upon  the  mountains,  before 
he  gets  the  sceptre.  How  can  you  tell  what 
others  feel,  unless  you  have  felt  the  same 
yourself?    How  can  you  sympathize  with  a 


prisoner,  unless  your  own  feet  have  been  fast 
in  the  stocks  ]  How  can  you  comfort  those 
who  are  cast  down,  unless  you  have  been 
often  at  your  wit's  end  !  Expect  nothing  but 
conflicts,  day  after  day,  to  humble  and  prove 
you,  and  teach  you  to  speak  a  word  in  season 
to  every  one  that  is  weary.  This  is  indeed 
the  high  road  to  the  kingdom  for  all,  yet  a 
minister's  path  is  not  only  narrow  and  stony 
like  others,  but  covered  also  with  bushes  and 
brakes ;  and  if  you  labour  to  remove  them  by 
your  own  hands,  they  will  quickly  tear  your 
flesh,  and  fill  your  fingers  with  thorns.  Let 
your  master  remove  them  at  your  request; 
and  remember  it  is  always  his  work,  as  it  is 
ever  his  delight,  to  clear  our  way  and  lead 
us  on  till  sin  and  death  are  trodden  down. 
Undertake  nothing  without  first  seeking  di- 
rection from  the  Lord,  and  when  any  thing 
offers,  that  is  plausible  and  inviting,  beg  of 
God  to  disappoint  you  if  it  be  not  according 
to  his  mind.  You  cannot  safely  rely  on  your 
own  judgment,  after  God  has  told  you,  '  He 
that  trusteth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool.'  This 
advice  relates  to  all  important  changes  in  life. 
Go  nowhere,  settle  nowhere,  marry  nowhere, 
without  frequent  usage  of  this  prayer." 

"  I  find  your  heart  is  yet  looking  towards 
America ;  this  inclines  me  to  think  God  will 
some  time  send  you  thither;  in  the  mean 
while  be  thankful  you  have  a  pulpit  in  Eng- 
land to  preach  Jesus  Christ  in,  and  health  to 
preach  him.  Be  not  in  a  hurry  to  go,  lest  you 
go  without  your  passport,  and  then  you  go  on 
a  fool's  errand.  Do  not  wish  to  be  any  where 
but  where  you  are,  nor  any  thing  but  what 
you  are.  It  is  want  of  communion  with  God 
that  makes  our  thoughts  run  a  gadding. 
Daily  beseech  the  Lord  to  make  your  way 
plain,  then  leave  it  to  him  to  direct  your 
steps.  Wish  not  to  do  good  in  America  next 
summer,  but  to  do  good  in  England  every  day 
you  continue  here."  Oh  that  I  had  never 
swerved  from  the  good  advice  of  this  truly 
apostolic  man.  My  aim  has  been  to  have  my 
conversation  in  the  world  according  to  it. 

I  have  diverted  your  attention  from  the 
Friendship,  Captain  Ball,  on  board  of  which, 
Mr.  Whitefield,  Mr.  Smith,  who  filled  up  Mr. 
Wright's  place,  and  myself,  were  left  by  the 
company  who  had  made  the  most  they  could 
of  Mr.  Whitefield.  I  had  nothing  to  do  but 
to  forget  my  own  people — I  had  no  father's 
house  to  forget — and  to  commit  myself  unto 
the  Lord.  We  spent  the  former  part  of  the 
day  in  looking  over  our  stores,  setting  things 
in  order,  and  securing  them  from  injury  as 
well  as  we  were  able.  As  I  dropped  into 
leisure,  I  began  to  reflect  upon  the  steps  I 
had  taken,  and  the  leadings  of  divine  Provi- 
dence by  which  I  was  induced  to  take  them. 
They  all  seemed  satisfactory,  and  though  I 
compared  myself  to  a  sparrow  alone  upon  the 
house-top,  I  had  a  conviction  that  I  was  not 
alone.    T  he  Father  of  my  mercies  had  been. 


28 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


was  then,  and  blessed  be  his  holy  name,  has 
been  ever  since  with  me. 

Mr.  Whitefield  began  to  familiarize  him- 
self to  his  naval  situation,  to  acquaint  himself 
with  the  crew  and  passengers,  and  proposed 
to  render  them  all  the  kindness  in  his  power. 
Had  the  captain  embraced  the  former  day's 
wind,  we  had  probably  been  favoured  with  a 
speedy  and  prosperous  passage ;  hut  by  losing 
that  opportunity  we  were  greatly  retarded. 
Against  wind  we  went  with  the  tide  down 
the  Pool,  and  were  several  days  getting  to 
the  Downs.  Now  I  first  began  to  know  what 
sea  sickness  was,  and  supposed  by  my  reco- 
vering when  we  anchored  at  the  Downs,  it 
was  all  over,  but  as  we  attempted  to  advance 
I  found  I  was  much  mistaken.  Here  we  were 
wind-bound  three  weeks,  opposite  Deal.  Dr. 
Gibbons  came  on  board  during  our  stay  to  see 
Mr.  Whitefield.  His  business  was  to  ordain 
one  of  his  pupils  to  a  dissenting  church  of  an- 
cient standing  in  that  town.  The  same  day 
the  young  gentleman  to  be  ordained,  and  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Bradbury,  of  Ramsgate,  came  on 
board,  and  after  many  pressing  solicitations, 
prevailed  upon  Mr.  Whitefield,  contrary  to 
his  intention,  to  come  on  shore,  to  attend  the 
ordination  and  preach  in  the  evening.  This 
was  very  agreeable  to  my  inclination,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  never  forget  the  solemnities  of 
that  day.  The  wind  being  settled  against  us, 
and  the  captain  giving  us  leave,  upon  Mr. 
Bradbury's  repeated  and  urgent  request,  Mr. 
Whitefield  was  prevailed  upon  to  go  to  Rams- 
gate. He  preached  there  twice,  and  was  to 
have  staid  over  the  Sabbath-day,  but  not  be- 
ing able  to  overcome  the  uneasiness  of  his 
spirits,  occasioned  by  a  fear  that  we  might 
stay  too  long,  we  took  a  chaise,  and  returned 
to  our  vessel,  on  board  which,  we  had  not  been 
many  hours,  before  the  captain  weighed  an- 
chor, and  in  the  distant  prospect  of  a  favour- 
able gale  attempted  to  sail;  but  it  only  proved 
a  conflict  with  the  wind,  to  my  no  small  mor- 
tification, for  I  was  rendered  incapable  of 
every  thing  by  the  sea  sickness. 

After  a  second  obstinate  attempt,  in  which 
we  were  beating  about  Dungeness  for  a  whole 
week  without  getting  three  leagues,  and  in 
which  time  I  was  not  able  to  hold  up  my 
head,  Providence  was  gracious,  the  wind  was 
propitious,  and  we  soon  lost  sight  of  land.  It 
was  a  long  while  before  I  recovered ;  I  plyed 
my  book,  and  by  the  care  that  jointly  fell 
upon  me  and  my  fellow  passenger,  Mr.  Smith, 
who  was  Mr.  Whitefield's  companion  and  at- 
tendant to  the  last,  I  had  a  diversity  of  exer- 
cise. Mr.  Whitefield  spent  his  time  in  largely 
reading  the  History  of  England,  composing 
sermons,  writing  letters,  &c.  and  sometimes 
discovered  such  remarkable  lowness  and  lan- 
guor, as  proved  him  not  very  fit  to  encounter 
the  difficulties  of  a  voyage  to  sea.  He  had 
great  civilities  and  respect  shown  him,  and 
was  as  constant  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties 


of  his  function  as  the  weather  would  admit. 
Some  circumstances  however  turned  up  to 
mar  our  happiness,  particularly  two  bad  men 
we  had  on  board,  one  of  whom  I  believe  fled 
from  England  to  save  his  life,  the  other  by 
his  conduct  in  Georgia,  proved  that  he  made 
no  scruple  to  hazard  his. 

After  the  usual  difficulties  which  attend 
the  seas,  we  came  near  Charleston  bar,  and 
by  reason  of  the  lightness  of  our  vessel,  for  it 
was  deficient  in  ballast,  we  were  detained  in 
what  is  called  Five-fathom-hole,  a  situation 
not  very  agreeable.  When  we  got  over  the 
bar  we  were  released  from  our  ship  by  a  pilot- 
boat,  on  the  30th  of  November,  and  on  that 
evening,  by  the  good  hand  of  our  God  upon 
us,  we  set  our  feet  upon  the  American  shore. 
My  endeavour  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
passage  was  to  give  myself  up  to  the  Lord, 
and  to  keep  from  such  an  elatement  of  mind, 
as  imaginary  painted  prospects  often  occa- 
sion to  the  no  small  after  disappointment.  In 
the  course  of  conversation,  Mr.  Whitefield 
had  dropped  such  a  hint,  as  convinced  me  I 
might  look  rather  for  great  crosses  than  trreat 
honours.  He  told  me  what  lie  had  concealed 
while  on  the  English  shore,  that  if  I  had  as 
many  to  preach  to  as  his  bed-cabin  would  hold, 
I  might  think  myself  well  off,  and  that  I  might 
expect  to  be  whipped  off  the  plantation  when 
I  had  done. 

My  reception  at  Charleston  was  kind  and 
hospitable;  I  supposed  it  to  have  been  be- 
cause I  was  Mr.  Whitefield's  friend.  Mr. 
Whitefield's  preaching  in  the  cabin  at  sea 
had  great  energy  in  it,  but  it  was  with  addi- 
tional pleasure  I  once  more  heard  him  in  a 
large  congregation  on  the  Sabbath-day.  I 
was  particularly  affected  at  the  Lord's  table, 
where  a  considerable  number  of  devout  ne- 
groes were  present.  It  was  an  emblem  of 
heaven  indeed,  and  afforded  me  encourage- 
ment to  hope  I  should  have  the  honour  of 
gathering  some  from  among  the  black  tribes 
into  the  visible  church,  who  being  washed 
from  their  sins,  should  walk  with  Jesus  in 
white. 

We  staid  but  ten  days  in  Charleston. 
Curiosity  was  excited  in  many  to  know  who 
and  what  I  was.  When  known,  it  was  de- 
sired that  I  would  give  a  lecture  to  a  serious 
company  in  a  large  school-room.  I  complied, 
and  the  word  was  kindly  received,  and  if  we 
had  not  left  Charleston  on  the  Sabbath 
afternoon,  I  was  to  have  preached  again.  We 
had  a  very  pleasant  passage  through  the 
Sounds,  and  frequently  went  on  shore  and 
regaled  ourselves  in  the  woods.  The  simpli- 
city of  the  negroes  who  rowed  us  was  very 
diverting,  whose  weariness  and  fatigue  served 
them  for  a  song.  I  was  much  affected  by  it. 
We  stopped  at  a  plantation  called  Port-royal, 
where  we  were  most  kindly  refreshed  and 
entertained,  and  safely  arrived  at  Savannah 
on  the  evening  of  December  the  fourteenth. 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


29 


Mr.  Whitefield  was  cheerful  and  easy;  he 
seemed  to  have  lost  a  weight  of  care.  A 
great  deal  of  his  usually  devotional  frame 
connected  with  his  cheerfulness.  It  surely 
became  me,  who  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land,  to  be  devotional,  and  to  give  myself 
wholly  unto  prayer.  1  bless  the  Lord  I  had 
no  fear  ;  I  had  some  faitli ;  and  faithful  was  lie 
who  had  called  me,  and  whose  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises  were  all  mine 
own.  Let  others  be  encouraged  by  me  to  put 
their  trust  in  the  Lord  ;  whoso  trusteth  in  him 
shall  never  be  confounded.  You,  with  me, 
my  dear  friend,  have  reason  to  speak  good  of 
his  name.  O  magnify  the  Lord  with-  me, 
and  let  us  exalt  his  name  together ! — I  am, 
yours,  very  affectionately,  &c. 


LETTER  X. 
My  very  de  ar  friend, — Continually  under 
the  divine  protection  we  may  enjoy  perfect 
peace,  and  being  devoted  to  the  will  of  God, 
he  will  take  possession  of  the  mind  and  keep 
it  What  is  now  the  matter  of  observation, 
was  the  matter  of  experience,  when  sitting 
for  a  little  while  alone  in  the  canoe,  where  I 
was  desired  to  remain,  at  the  bottom  of  Sa- 
vannah-bluff, the  guardian  of  our  property, 
while  Messrs.  Whitefield,  Wright,  and  Smith, 
ascended  to  the  town.  It  was  dark  before  I 
was  disengaged  and  escorted  to  Mr.  Haber- 
sham's house,  where  Mr.  Whitefield  had 
preceded  me.  Mr.  Habersham  met  me  at  the 
door,  embraced  me  in  his  arms,  saying,  "  I 
will  be  your  friend,  if  nobody  else  will."  It 
being  his  first  salute,  I  supposed  it  was  in 
consequence  of  something  previously  said  by 
the  company,  and  by  the  tenor  of  the  conver- 
sation which  went  forward,  I  understood  that 
I  was  but  an  unexpected  guest.  Mr.  Haber- 
sham clapping  me  upon  the  knee,  repeated, 
"  I  will  be  your  friend,  if  nobody  else  will ; 
I  will  stand  by  you :  you  shall  instruct  my 
negroes,  whoever  else  refuses  you."  This 
brought  to  my  recollection  instantly  what  Mr. 
Whitefield  said  on  board  ship,  viz.  "  That  I 
might  be  thankful  if  I  had  as  many  to  preach 
to  as  his  bed-cabin  would  hold,  and  must  not 
wonder,  if  for  attempting  to  instruct  the  ne- 
groes, I  were  whipped  off  the  plantation." 
However,  most  of  Mr.  Zububuhler's  execu- 
tors, the  gentlemen  into  whose  service  I  was 
entering,  saw  me,  and  all  except  two,  behaved 
to  me  in  a  very  respectful  manner.  The  first 
night  I  lodged  in  Mr.  Habersham's  house. 
The  next  day  I  was  fixed  at  a  Mr.  Bolton's, 
who  accommodated  strangers  with  lodgings. 
The  room  appointed  for  me  had  no  fire-place 
in  it,  and  the  weather  becoming  very  cold,  I 
was  put  to  much  inconvenience  ;  but  I  was 
determined  I  would  not  make  my  company 
cheap,  whatever  I  might  suffer  ;  and  that 
whatever  reserve  might  be  in  my  conduct,  it 
should  be  entirely  with  a  view  to  the  glory 

3* 


of  God.  It  was  well  in  the-  end  I  adopted  and 
maintained  this  resolution.  Previous  to  my 
settlement,  I  spent  some  days  witli  Mr. 
Whitefield  at  the  Orphan-house,  and  by  the 
time  I  returned  to  Savannah,  the  report  of 
my  design,  in  coming  into  the  province,  was 
noised  ahroad. — Some  of  the  more  sensible 
negroes  facetiously  said  they  were  too  wicked 
to  be  made  good  now.  A  few  had  their  ex- 
pectations raised  by  my  coming,  and  seemed 
pleased  with  my  errand.  The  white  people 
in  general  conceived  that  I  came  there  be- 
cause I  could  not  live  in  England,  and  I 
scarcely  stirred  out  without  hearing  one  and 
another  say  with  the  acoent  of  contempt, 
"  There  goes  the  negro  parson." 

Perceiving  that  Mr.  Bolton,  at  whose  house 
my  residence  was  fixed,  was  a  serious  man, 
I  told  him  I  longed  to  begin  my  mission  in 
some  way.    I  ottered  to  be  his  chaplain,  and 
asked  him  if  he  would  allow  me  to  open  a 
public  exposition  in  his  house.  He  generously 
consented,  and  notice  being  given  of  my  de- 
sign, numbers  both  of  white  and  black  came, 
ond  I  opened  with  Rom.  i.  15.    "I  am  ready 
to  preach  the  Gospel  to  you."    The  word 
was  well  received  by  the  serious  part  of  the 
audience,  and  perhaps  would  have  been  by 
the  others,  if  I  had  not  particularly  discovered 
myself  attached  to  the  more  sensible  negroes, 
and  given  them  to  understand  they  were  the 
subjects  of  my  ministry. — I  continued  to 
preach  in  Mr.  Bolton's  house,  to  white  and 
black  all  the  time  I  staid  in  Savannah,  once 
or  twice  a  week  as  it  was  most  convenient  to 
me,  and  on  the  Sabbath-day  evenings.  This 
gave  great  offence,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Zubly, 
the  Presbyterian  minister,  did  not  a  little  op- 
pose it.    I  applied  for  the  use  of  the  old  Lu- 
theran church  which  stood  unoccupied,  and 
offered  any  moderate  rent  the  proprietors 
should  require  for  the  use  of  it,  but  it  was 
refused  merely  because  I  preached  to,  and 
aimed  at  instructing  the  negroes.    All  were 
up  in  arms  against  me  ;  many  threatened  me 
if  I  presumed  to  come  into  their  plantation. 
A  motion  was  made  in  the  council  to  consider 
me  as  a  nuisance  to  the  province,  and  as  such 
to  silence  me ;  but  they  could  not  carry  the 
motion.    However  time  and  circumspection 
retrieved  my  reputation  in  some  degree.  The 
house  I  lodged  in  abounded  with  boarders, 
particularly  at  the  sitting  of  the  assembly.  I 
generally  endeavoured  to  be  affable,  but  not 
forward  ;  conversant,  butnot  loquacious ;  short 
in  my  sittings  after  meals,  and  constant  in  my 
study.    I  was  generally  indulged  with  much 
liberty  in  family  prayer,  mornings  and  even- 
ings, and  frequently  dropped  a  short  pertinent 
hint  from  one  or  a  few  verses  out  of  the  por- 
i  tion  I  read.    This  gained  attention,  and  by 
degrees  I  acquired  credit,  being  mostly  re- 
;  proached  by  persons  who  knew  least  of  me. 
.  The  conversation  of  which  I  was  the  subject, 
'  usually  concluded  to  this  effect  :  "  It  is  a  pity 


30 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


he  thinks  of  being  employed  in  a  work  that 
will  bring  him  so  little  credit,  while  he  has  a 
capacity  to  be  an  acceptable  minister  to  the 
white  people,  where  one  is  wanting." 

It  may  appear  that  this  representation  of 
myself  savours  of  pride,  but  I  can  appeal  to 
Him  who  alone  knoweth  the  heart,  that  I 
only  mention  it  to  his  praise.  If  I  review- 
any  part  of  my  outward  conduct  with  satis- 
faction, I  review  the  defects  of  all  my  duties 
before  God  with  shame.  However  I  might 
satisfy  others,  I  was  dissatisfied  enough  with 
myself.  Strict  morality  will  not  compensate 
the  want  of  spirituality,  and  of  this  I  found 
myself  deficient — may  not  the  deficiency  be 
laid  to  my  charge ! 

It  was  not  long  before  I  was  introduced  to 
my  immediate  charge,  that  is  the  negroes 
upon  the  late  Rev.  Sir.  Zububuhler's  planta- 
tion, among  whom  I  was  to  reside,  as  soon  as 
the  house  was  put  in  proper  condition  for  my 
residence.  The  greatest  number  of  these 
negroes  were  fresh  purchased.  They  had 
conceived  some  kind  of  idea  concerning  me, 
but  could  not  distinguish  between  their  mi- 
nister and  their  owner ;  therefore,  when  I  was 
first  introduced  among  them,  they  came  up 
in  a  body,  and  in  their  way  showed  me  the 
greatest  mark  of  their  respect ;  at  the  same 
time  they  made  very  heavy  complaints  that 
they  were  severely  beaten,  overburdened 
with  work,  kept  very  short  of  food,  and  that 
they  and  their  children  were  very  bare  of 
Clothes.  They  said  if  I  would  be  a  good 
master,  they  would  be  good  negroes.  I  gave 
them  to  understand  that  I  had  no  right  in 
them,  that  I  should  be  their  sincere  friend 
and  minister,  and  would  do  every  tiling  in 
my  power  to  make  them  happy. 

The  following  Lord's  day,  I  went  up  for 
the  first  time  to  introduce  divine  worship 
among  them ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  describe 
the  scene,  nor  can  any  person,  a  stranger  to 
it,  conceive  of  it.  Mr.  Bolton,  my  host,  bore 
me  company  to  give  me  countenance,  and  to 
assist  me  to  sing.  Two  or  three  overseers 
from  the  neighbouring  plantations,  with  the 
person  in  the  same  capacity  on  the  spot,  men 
of  a  similar  cast  with  the  Smithfield  drovers, 
were  all  the  white  people  I  had  present. 
Some  negroes  from  the  neighbouring  planta- 
tions came,  and  I  opened  with  as  plain  an  ex- 
hortation as  I  possibly  could,  but  felt  it  was 
like  shooting  darts  against  a  stone  wall.  I 
prayed,  read  the  lessons  for  the  day,  and  used 
a  very  small  part  of  the  liturgy,  namely,  the 
confession  of  the  Lord's  prayer  and  the 
creed,  but  the  greatest  part  of  my  poor  con- 
gregation were  either  asleep,  or  making 
some  of  their  figures  upon  the  wainscot,  or 
playing  with  their  fingers,  or  eating  potatoes, 
or  talking  with  each  other.  This  was  very 
discouraging,  but  I  thought  I  must  get  through 
it  as  well  as  I  could. — My  intended  plan  was, 
if  I  had  settled  with  them,  to  have  attempted 


to  make  them  rational  in  order  to  make  them 
capable  of  understanding  my  addresses,  and 
to  have  began  with  them  as  with  children, 
teaching  them  the  alphabet.  I  hoped  to  have 
succeeded ;  and  to  carry  my  point,  especially 
with  the  children,  and  that  I  might  expedite 
the  work,  I  intended  to  have  procured  ne- 
groes, by  qualifying  of  whom,  I  might  have 
been  assisted  in  promoting  general  instruc- 
tion. But  knowing  I  must  come  home  for 
ordination,  and  my  house  not  being  ready  for 
me,  I  could  only  design  the  plan  without  put- 
ting it  forward  till  after  my  return. 

There  were  several  in  Savannah,  whom  I 
had  learnt  to  read  a  little,  and  on  three  plant- 
ations beside  my  own,  I  taught  Dr.  Watts's 
first  catechism  and  psalmody  with  some  de- 
gree of  success.  My  black  congregations 
on  two  of  the  plantations  (Mr.  Jonathan  Bri- 
and,  being  a  dissenter  from  the  episcopal 
church,  objected  to  the  use  of  a  form  of  pray- 
er,) could  with  a  degree  of  readiness  repeat 
with  me  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  creed,  and 
the  magnificat. 

Once  a  week  I  preached  to  a  small  congre- 
gation, about  twelve  miles  from  Savannah; 
and  on  my  own  plantation  I  was  soon  joined 
by  ten  or  twelve  white  people,  to  whom  I  ac- 
commodated my  discourse,  after  I  had  done 
with  the  negroes.  But  so  strong  were  the 
prejudices  of  the  people  in  general  against 
me,  for  being  what  they  called  a  negro-parson, 
that  I  believe  if  I  had  been  an  angel  of  light, 
I  should  not  have  been  esteemed.* 

Upon  my  first  coming  into  the  province,  I 
was  informed  it  would  prove  to  my  advantage, 
if  I  could  be  on  good  terms  with  Mr.  Frink, 
the  rector  of  Savannah,  and  I  was  desired  to 
seek  intimacy  with  him,  though  he  should 
treat  me  roughly  and  even  repulse  me. 

I  therefore  paid  him  the  compliment  of 
asking  his  permission  to  speak  publicly  to  the 
negroes  in  town ;  he  gave  it  in  a  faint  man- 
ner ;  and  finding  that  a  recommendatory  let- 
ter from  him  to  the  bishop  would  be  requisite 
for  my  obtaining  ordination,  I  sought  such  an 
acquaintance  with  him,  as  my  friends  judged 
necessary. — On  New-year's  day,  I  sent  him 
a  very  neatly  bound  volume  of  Mr.  Hawies's 
sermons,  for  a  New-year's  gift,  with  a  letter, 
intimating  that  my  sentiments  might  be  ga- 
thered from  the  work,  and  that  it  contained 
a  just  plan  of  the  doctrines  I  intended  to 

*  What  a  view  is  here  incidentally  given  us  of  the 
degraded  and  despised  state  of  this  class  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  if  prejudice  and  pride  will  forsooth  allow  us 
to  call  them  so. — Torn  from  their  native  country — op- 
pressed by  merciless  exactions — treated  like  beasts  that 
perish — fed  and  valued  only  for  the  purposes  of  labour 
and  drudgery — a  man  turned  into  ridicule  ami  scorn 
for  wishing  to  teach  them  the  Gospel — their  possessors 
afraid  lest  one  ray  of  light  should  enter  their  minds, 
and  make  them  feel  they  were  men!— Who  can  hut 
lament  that  our  country  should  so  long  have  "  Traded 
in  the  persons  of  men." — Who  can  hut  rejoice  that  the 
voice  of  justice  and  humanity  was  at  last  heard— who 
can  but  be  grateful  to  those  who  "Through  evil  and 
good  report"  persevered  till  their  discouraged  efforts 
were  crowned  with  success? 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


81 


preach.  lie  received  them  politely,  gave  me 
access  to  him,  engaged  nic  to  bury  the  dead 
for  him  when  he  was  indisposed,  and  1  be- 
lieve would  have  been  glad  to  have  served 
me,  if  previous  to  my  embarkation  from  Eng- 
land, he  not  laid  the  foundation  of  my  disap- 
pointment, as  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

I  visited  the  Orphan-house  as  often  as  pos- 
sible, and  was  in  perfect  love  and  harmony 
with  the  family.    Death  made  a  sad  inroad 
among  them  in  a  very  little  time:  but  the 
affliction  was  completed  by  the  death  of  Mr. 
Whitefield.    He  had  left  Georgia  to  go  on 
his  northern  tour,  the  latter  end  of  April; 
and  while  his  return  was  anticipated  and  sup- 
posed to  be  near,  his  removal  was  announced. 
It  was  opened  to  me  by  Mr.  Habersham,  who 
was  much  affected  with  it.    It  may  be  sup- 
posed I  could  not  be  insensible.    As  soon  as  I 
heard  it,  I  retreated  to  pray,  and  pour  out  my 
soul  to  God.    I  can  truly  say  the  cause  of  God 
at  large  lay  near  my  heart,  and  I  had  a  per- 
suasion that  the  work  over  which  he  had  pre- 
sided would  not  die  with  him.    In  his  own 
mind  he  had  fully  settled  me ;  his  interview 
with  the  trustees  of  Mr.  Zububuhlcr  had  led 
to  some  remarks  respecting  the  encouragement 
of  the  laity  in  the  service  of  the  church,  which 
he  supposed  would  produce  effect.    He  made 
me  feel,  by  saying,  when  we  parted,  "Now 
I  cast  you  off,  sink  or  swim."    Though  his 
conversation  afterwards  was  to  me  a  convic- 
tion, he  would  have  been  glad  to  have  had 
me  again  in  his  boat    His  temper  had  been 
very  placid  ever  since  he  left  England;  at 
the  Orphan-house  he  seemed  quite  in  his  ele- 
ment.   He  conversed  freely  upon  the  future 
disposal  of  it.  I  told  him  I  thought  he  should 
resign  it  to  the  government  of  the  province, 
giving  it  as  my  reason,  that  though  lady 
Huntingdon  should  have  it  in  case  of  his 
death,  she  would  not  be  able  to  preserve  the 
life  of  religion  in  it,  as  he  supposed.    1  ob- 
served that  the  work  of  God  usually  goes  on 
in  a  way  contrary  to  the  order  prescribed  by 
man.    He  had  taken  such  steps  as  certainly 
raised  the  expectation  of  the  governor  and 
council.    They  had  reason  to  think  it  would 
be  an  institution  under  their  direction.  He 
was  much  too  sanguine  in  his  hopes  of  what 
was  to  arise  from  it. 

I  continued  in  one  steady  track,  desirous 
to  be  fully  qualified  for  my  office,  and  vigor- 
ously to  enter  upon  it  in  its  full  extent,  which 
I  could  not  without  episcopal  ordination.  I 
indulged  the  idea  of  a  speedy  return  to  Eng- 
land, and  consulted  Mr.  Habersham  upon 
the  expediency  of  it.  He  and  all  with  whom 
he  consulted  upon  the  subject,  saw  it  in  the 
same  light.  For  what  end  I  was  permitted 
to  go  to  America,  and  why  prevented  from 
settling  there,  is  among  the  secrets  of  the 
Almighty.  He  directs  our  ways  and  orders 
our  steps.  It  is  not  for  us  to  demand  the 
reason  of  his  conduct,  but  to  submit  to  his 


will.  May  we  ever  restrain  improper  in- 
quiries, and  submissively  yield  ourselves  up 
to  him,  as  instruments  to  be  used  or  to  be 
neglected  as  he  thinks  good.  I  rejoice  that 
your  feet  are  set  in  such  a  large  place,  and 
that  you  have  such  a  spacious  field  to  labour 
in.  That  you  may  bring  forth  an  abundance 
of  fruit  unto  God,  is  the  prayer  of,  my  very 
dear  friend,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  XI. 

My  very  dear  friend,— You  have  no 
conception  of  the  effect  of  Mr.  Whitefield's 
death  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the  province  of 
Georgia.    All  the  black  cloth  in  the  stores 
was  bought  up;  the  pulpit  and  desks  of  the 
church,  the  branches,  the  organ  loft,  the  pews 
of  the  governor  and  council  were  covered 
with  black.    The  governor  and  council  in 
deep  mourning  convened  at  the  state-house, 
and  went  in  procession  to  church,  and  were 
received  by  the  organ  playing  a  funeral  dirge. 
Two  funeral  sermons  were  preached,  one  by 
Mr.  Ellington,  which  I  was  desired  to  com- 
pose ;  the  other  was  preached  by  Mr.  Zubly. 
All  the  respect  showed  to  his  memory  at  his 
death,  kept  my  sensibility  alive.    Though  I 
was  now  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  I  had 
my  mercies;  I  gained  the  esteem  of  many 
who  wished  to  see  me  in  orders.  I  perceived 
I  was  in  the  land  of  mortality.  Many  by  the 
stroke  of  death  fell  on  my  right  hand  and  on 
my  left ;  I,  myself,  and  one  of  the  passengers 
who  came  over  with  us,  fell  sick  at  the  same 
time.    Mine  was  but  a  slight  sickness,  his 
terminated  in  death,  and  an  awful  death  it 
was;  it  discovered  him  to  be  a  bad  man  in 
every  respect :  and  what  made  it  the  more 
affecting,  his  wife  and  three  children  arrived 
from  England  just  time  enough  to  see  his 
corpse  before  it  was  put  into  the  grave.  To 
meet  her  at  the  vessel,  and  to  open  to  her 
the  circumstances  of  his  death,  as  well  as 
to  bury  him,  was  the  province  assigned  me. 

Though  I  saw  no  sign  of  longevity  either 
in  natives  or  foreigners,  my  heart  was  set 
upon  doing  the  best  I  could  for  the  poor  ne- 
groes, so  that  I  gave  no  hint  in  any  of  my 
letters,  of  the  badness  of  the  climate  for  an 
English  constitution.  Rather  I  laboured  hard 
to  get  a  dear  friend  to  partake  with  me  in 
the  comforts  and  crosses  of  my  situation.  1 
had  settled  it  in  my  own  mind  in  submission 
to  the  will  of  God,  that  I  would,  being  put 
into  a  capacity  for  usefulness,  live  and  die  in 
Georgia,  a  devoted  servant  of  servants.  When 
the  twelve  months  of  my  residence  were 
nearly  expired,  it  was  agreed  upon  by  Mr. 
Zububuhler's  executors,  that  I  should  return 
home  to  the  bishop  for  orders;  and  it  was 
judged  the  more  necessary  at  that  time,  as 
there  was  a  strong  suspicion  of  a  Spanish 
war  breaking  out,  which  would  make  the  pas- 


82 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


sage  to  England  to  be  attended  with  hazard 
and  difficulty. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  trustees  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  my  coming  home,  they  wrote  to  the 
different  persons  hereafter  named,  in  the  or- 
der and  manner  following : 

The  Executors  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Zububuh- 
ler's  Letter  to  Governor  Wright. 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency, — 
We,  the  subscribers,  executors,  and  trustees 
of  the  last  will  and  testament  of  the  late  Rev. 
Mr.  Zububuhler,  having,  agreeable  to  the 
6aid  will,  employed  Mr.  Cornelius  Winter  as 
a  catechist  to  instruct  the  negroes  on  the 
plantation  of  the  deceased,  for  a  year  past, 
and  he  having  given  us  entire  satisfaction,  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duty,  and  behaved  irre- 
proachably in  all  respects  in  his  religious  and 
moral  character,  beg  leave  to  recommend 
him  to  your  Excellency  as  a  person,  in  our 
opinion,  properly  qualified  to  receive  holy  or- 
ders ;  and  therefore  we  request  your  Excel- 
lency will  be  pleased  to  recommend  him  to 
the  lord  bishop  of  London  for  ordination,  that 
he  may  thereby  be  enabled  fully  to  comply 
with  the  intention  of  the  testator,  by  perform- 
ing the  ministerial  offices  required  by  his 
will.  We  are,  with  great  respect,  your  Ex- 
cellency's most  obedient  servants, 
"  FRANCIS  HARRIS, 

JAMES  READ, 

JOHN  SMITH, 

JOSEPH  CLAY, 

NOBLE  WILLIAM  JONES. 
"  Savannah,  Georgia,  Nov.  22, 1770." 


The  Executors  of  the  late  Rev.  Bartholo- 
mew Zububuhler  to  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Frink. 

"  Reverend  sra, — As  we  find  it  neces- 
sary, in  compliance  with  the  will  of  the  late 
Rev.  Mr.  Zububuhler,  your  worthy  predeces- 
sor, to  have  a  person  properly  qualified  to 
perform  ministerial  offices,  and  instruct  the 
negroes  on  the  deceased's  plantation,  in  the 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion,  as  esta- 
blished by  law  in  the  church  of  England ;  and 
as  we  have  employed  Mr.  Cornelius  Winter  as 
a  catechist  for  a  year  past  on  the  said  planta- 
tion, and  have  had  full  proof  of  his  abilities 
and  fidelity,  in  daily  discharging  his  duty ; 
and  as  we  also  suppose  you  cannot  be  unac- 
quainted with  his  religious  and  moral  charac- 
ter, which  we  apprehend  has  been  irreproach- 
able, we  can  make  no  doubt,  reverend  sir,  but 
you  will  readily  join  us  in  recommending 
Mr.  Winter  to  the  lord  bishop  of  London, 
for  holy  orders,  by  which  he  will  be  enabled 
fully  to  comply  with  the  intention  of  the  tes- 
tator's will. — We  are,  reverend  sir,  your 
humble  servants,  &c. 

"  Savannah,  Nov.  22, 1770." 


His  Excellency  the  governor,  and  Mr. 
Frink  the  rector,  received  me  very  politely 
upon  the  occasion,  and  assured  me  they 
would  write  in  my  behalf  to  the  bishop  of 
London ;  accordingly  they  both  wrote  by  me, 
but  I  was  a  stranger  to  the  contents  of  their 
letters.  To  strengthen  their  testimonial,  and 
prevent  every  obstacle,  President  Habersham 
wrote  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Broughton,  rector  of 
Allhallows,  Lombard-street,  and  secretary  to 
the  society  for  propagation  of  the  gospel  in 
foreign  parts,  as  follows,  in  hopes,  if  neces- 
sary, that  he  would  show  it  to  the  bishop: 

"  Reverend  sir, — Upwards  of  thirty-three 
years  ago,  when  you  were  minister  of  the 
church  in  the  Tower  of  London,  I  was  ho- 
noured with  your  acquaintance,  and,  as  I  sup- 
pose you  have  not  forgotten  me,  I  shall  make 
no  farther  apology  for  troubling  you  with 
this. — The  worthy  rector  of  this  parish,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Bartholomew  Zububuhler,  deceased, 
having,  by  will,  left  great  part  of  his  estate  in 
trust,  for  the  support  of  a  person  properly 
qualified  to  instruct  his  negroes,  on  his  plant- 
ation in  particular,  and  others  occasionally, 
in  the  principles  of  the  Christian  religion  as 
established  in  the  church  of  England  ;  and  the 
bearer,  Mr.  Cornelius  Winter,  having  been 
recommended  to  the  trustees  as  a  serious  and 
judicious  person,  and  every  way  fit  to  execute 
the  pious  intention  of  the  deceased,  they  have 
for  a  year  past  employed  him  in  this  service, 
in  which  he  hath  given  them  entire  satisfac- 
tion, having  conducted  himself  in  the  difficult 
undertaking  with  great  prudence,  assiduity, 
and  discretion  ;  not  only  with  respect  to  the 
people  under  his  charge,  but  wherever  he 
has  had  an  opportunity  of  giving  a  word  of 
advice  to  the  poor  blacks  on  other  planta- 
tions; and  I  thank  God  he  has  found  some 
persons  of  considerable  property,  who  have 
gladly  opened  their  houses  to  him,  thankfully 
accepted  and  countenanced  his  services,  by 
attending  themselves  on  the  very  sensible 
and  affectionate  exhortations  he  has  given 
their  numerous  slaves. 

"  It  is  to  me  unaccountable  that  any  peo- 
ple calling  themselves  Christians,  should  have 
any  objection  against  having  their  servants 
instructed,  unless  it  is  their  inattention  to, 
and  ignorance  of  the  eternal  importance  of  the 
Christian  revelation.  But  it  is  a  melancholy 
truth  that  there  are  too  many  such ;  and  for  this 
reason  as  well  as  many  others,  that  might  be 
mentioned,  it. is  necessary  that  the  person 
employed  in  this  service  should  be  ordained  ; 
because,  however  little  regard  some  people 
pay  to  the  pious  instructions  of  a  minister, 
there  are,  I  hope,  but  few,  if  any,  so  abandon- 
ed, as  not  to  show  some  respect  to  his  sacred 
character,  especially,  if  his  life  and  conversa- 
tion is  conformable  thereto. 

"  Mr.  Winter,  I  understand,  has  long  been 
desirous  of  being  useful  in  the  church,  and 


HIS  OWN 

has  taken  no  small  pains  to  qualify  himself  for 
that  purpose;  but  rinds  he  cannot  be  so  useful 
in  his  present  contracted  situation,  as  he  wishes 
to  be.  And  as  the  executors  and  trustees  of 
the  late  Mr.  Zububuhler's  will,  think,  by  the 
tenor  of  it,  and  I  am  of  their  opinion,  that  the 
person  who  should  instruct  his  negroes,  should 
be  a  minister  of  the  church  of  England,  and 
consequently  qualified  to  baptize,  and  perform 
other  holy  offices ;  they  have  requested  his 
Excellency  the  governor,  to  recommend 
him  to  the  lord  bishop  of  London  for  holy 
orders ;  and  I  am  informed  they  have  desired 
the  same  of  our  present  rector,  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Frink,  and  both  of  them  I  believe 
will  readily  do  it. — He  is  sufficiently  provided 
for,  and  will  want  no  farther  assistance,  be- 
ing by  the  executors  allowed  £12")  per  an- 
num, besides  his  board,  a  servant,  &c. 

"  I  have  had  opportunity  of  knowing  him 
in  his  private  conduct,  and  do  think  him  to 
be  a  truly  serious  man  ;  and  believe  he  has 
engaged  in  instructing  these  much  neglected 
and  benighted  people  with  an  honest  view  to 
promote  their  eternal  welfare,  and  the  glory 
of  God,  by  bringing  them  from  a  real  state 
of  heathenism  to  the  light  of  the  glorious 
gospel  of  the  Son  of  God.  I  have  long  wished 
that  some  good  man  would  undertake  this 
truly  charitable,  though  arduous  work,  and 
must  say,  that  I  think  Mr.  Winter  peculiarly 
qualified  for  it.  He  appears  to  be  very  con- 
descending and  patient,  is  of  a  remarkable 
humble  and  quiet  disposition,  and  from  my 
own  knowledge,  will  stoop  to  the  barren,  be- 
cause too  generally  unimproved  capacities  of 
these  poor  creatures;  I  say  unimproved  ca- 
pacities, as  some  ignorant  people  would  fool- 
ishly insinuate  that  they  are  scarcely  reason- 
able beings,  and  not  capable  of  being  instruct- 
ed in  the  divine  truths  of  Christianity,  an 
absurdity  too  obvious  to  deserve  any  refuta- 
tion ;  and  I  am  ashamed  to  have  occasion  to 
make  this  observation,  as  daily  experience 
evinces  that  there  are  many  ingenious  me- 
chanics among  them ;  and  as  far  as  they 
have  had  opportunity  of  being  instructed, 
have  discovered  as  good  abilities  as  usually 
are  found  among  people  of  our  own  colour ; 
but  making  them  good  tradesmen  is  imme- 
diately profitable,  and  the  reward  of  making 
them  good  Christians  is  at  a  distance.  1  have 
been  in  many  of  the  northern  provinces,  and 
have  with  great  pleasure  seen  many  serious 
negroes,  and  in  the  neighbouring  province  of 
South  Carolina,  I  have  known  several  who 
have  honoured  the  gospel,  perhaps  not  less 
than  their  owners;  and  we  have  had  some, 
though  but  few,  here,  who  are  baptized  and 
admitted  to  other  holy  ordinances,  whose  be- 
haviour is  the  most  irreproachable. — I  have 
heard  Mr.  Winter  speak  to  a  considerable 
number  of  negroes  in  this  town,  as  well  as 
at  my  own  plantation,  where  I  have  two  hun- 
dred men,  women,  and  children,  with  great 


ACCOUNT.  33 

judgment,  and  Christian  affection  ;  and  have 
seen  such  apparent  marks  of  decency  and 
attention  among  them,  that  had  you,  reverend 
sir,  been  present,  I  am  sure  you  could  not 
help  bearing  a  part  in  their  sensibility,  and 
of  thanking  God  for  so  useful  a  man;  and  if 
I  am  a  judge,  I  think  he  has  real  abilities, 
and  such  as  would  not  be  despised  in  any 
congregation. 

"  I  hope,  therefore,  to  have  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  him  return  to  us  in  holy  orders,  by 
which  his  sphere  of  usefulness  will  be  more 
enlarged  ;  and  as  I  before  observed,  he  will 
by  that  means  be  more  acceptable  among  the 
white  people,  he  will  be  much  more  so  among 
the  blacks,  who  are  in  this  particular,  influ- 
enced by  example.  For  my  part,  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  say,  I  have  done,  and  will  do  all 
in  my  power  to  forward  and  promote  this  lau- 
dable design  ;  and  am  happy  in  the  prospect 
of  one  day  seeing  a  congregated  church  of 
Africans  rejoicing  in  their  being  brought 
from  a  land  of  darkness,  and  of  being  made 
partakers  of  our  common  salvation,  to  which 
both  bond  and  free  are  equally  entitled ;  and 
as  I  am  persuaded,  reverend  sir,  that  you  will 
rejoice  in  having  an  opportunity  to  promote 
the  welfare  of  the  meanest  of  our  fellow-be- 
ings, I  take  the  liberty  of  recommending 
the  deplorable  state  of  these  poor  neglected 
negroes  to  your  friendship,  as  well  as  the 
bearer,  who  is  desirous  of  serving  them ;  not 
doubting  but  he  will  be  countenanced  by  the 
reverend  fathers  of  our  church,  and  duly 
qualified  to  proceed  in  his  good  undertaking, 
which  had  been  so  warmly  and  affectionately 
recommended  by  them  in  their  annual  ser- 
mons preached  before  the  worthy  society  for 
the  propagation  of  the  gospel :  and  I  am  so 
convinced  of  the  uprightness  of  Mr.  Winter's 
intention,  that  I  am  persuaded  he  will  neither 
dishonour  you,  nor  reverend  and  dear  sir, 
your  affectionate  friend,  and  servant, 

"JAMES  HABERSHAM. 

"  Savannah,  Georgia,  Dec.  1, 1770." 

Another  letter,  equally  strong,  to  the 
same  purport,  was  written  to  John  Knox, 
Esq.  secretary  to  lord  Hillsborough,  and  a 
fourth,  as  follows,  to  the  bishop  of  London  : 

"  My  lord, — The  Rev.  Bartholomew  Zu- 
bubuhler,  deceased,  the  late  worthy  rector  of 
this  parish,  having  by  his  will  left  the  chief 
part  of  his  estate  in  trust  to  us,  his  trustees 
and  executors,  for  pious  uses,  and  in  particu- 
lar for  the  support  of  a  person  properly  quali- 
fied to  instruct  his  negroes  on  his  plantation, 
in  the  principles  of  the  Christian  religion,  as 
by  law  established  in  the  church  of  England, 
we  have,  for  about  a  year  past,  employed  the 
bearer,  Mr.  Cornelius  Winter,  in  this  service ; 
which,  as  far  as  his  present  limited  capacity 
permitted,  he  hath  faithfully  executed  with 
prudence  and  discretion.    But  as  it  appears 


31 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


by  the  general  design  of  the  deceased,  that  the 
testator  intended  such  a  person  should  be  a 
minister,  and  thereby  qualified  to  baptize  and 
perforin  all  other  holy  offices,  agreeable  to  the 
rubrick  of  the  church  of  England ;  and  the 
bearer  having  manifested  a  hearty  disposition 
to  propagate  the  gospel  among  these  poor  ig- 
norant people  in  particular,  and  we  can  from 
our  own  knowledge  confide  in  him  to  execute 
this  trust,  we  humbly  beg  leave  to  recom- 
mend him  to  your  lordship  for  holy  orders, 
not  doubting  but  he  will  give  your  lordship 
and  us  full  satisfaction  by  his  diligence  and 
fidelity  in  executing  the  (not  to  every  one,) 
acceptable  service. 

"  Mr.  Winter,  who  we  presume  does  not 
want  abilities,  we  understand  has  been  long 
desirous  of  devoting  his  service  to  promote 
the  interests  of  religion,  as  well  among  bond 
as  free,  in  the  established  church,  and  to  en- 
courage him  to  proceed  in  so  benevolent  and 
charitable  a  work,  we  suppose  we  have 
sufficiently  provided  for  him,  having  had 
hitherto  a  stipend  of  £125  sterling,  per  an- 
num, besides  his  board,  a  servant,  and  other 
conveniences,  which  we  shall  continue  to 
him.  We  have  taken  the  liberty  to  request 
his  excellency  the  governor,  as  also  our  pre- 
sent rector,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Frink,  to  re- 
commend Mr.  Winter  to  your  lordship  for 
ordination.  The  latter,  in  particular,  has 
been  acquainted  with  his  behaviour  here, 
which  we  believe  has  been  unblameable,  and 
we  make  no  doubt  but  his  future  conduct  will 
recommend  him  to  your  lordship's  counte- 
nance and  protection. 

"  That  your  lordship  may  long  live  to  pro- 
mote the  interest  of  our  excellent  church,  es- 
pecially in  this  province,  at  present  so  deplo- 
rably destitute  of  ministers  of  God's  holy 
word  and  sacraments,  and,  after  a  life  full  of 
days,  that  you  may  receive  your  reward  from 
the  great  Shepherd  of  souls,  is  the  hearty 
prayer  of,  your  lordship's  dutiful  and  most 
obedient  servants,  &c. 

"  Savannah,  in  Georgia,  Nov.  22,  1770." 

Thus  laden  with  recommendations,  I  pre- 
pared to  embark  for  England.  I  cannot  say 
I  was  frothed  with  expectation  of  success, 
having  been  informed  by  a  busy  man,  from 
whom  I  sought  no  information,  though  he 
often  gave  it,  that  Mr.  Frink  had  written 
largely  about  me  to  the  society  for  propaga- 
ting the  gospel,  through  the  medium  of  which 
all  business  pertaining  to  religion  was  at  that 
time  usually  transacted  in  America.  After 
visiting  the  different  places,  and  people  who 
partook  of  my  labours,  and  with  whom  it  was 
supposed  my  intimacy  was  to  be  continued,  I 
embarked  on  board  the  Georgia  packet,  Cap- 
tain Anderson,  about  the  middle  of  December. 
Several  of  the  negroes  seemed  much  affected 
at  my  leaving  them,  as  did  also  the  white 
people,  particularly  thu  family  of  Mr.  Bolton 


with  whom  I  lodged ;  and  at  parting  I  found, 

notwithstanding  all  the  opposition  I  had  met 
with,  Georgia  had  its  attractions.  The  pas- 
sengers came  on  board  the  packet  on  the 
Friday,  and  we  set  sail  on  the  Lord's-day. 
I  offered  to  be  chaplain  to  the  packet,  the  offer 
was  accepted,  but  being  seized  with  sea  sick- 
ness it  was  some  days  before  I  could  engage  in 
devotional  exercises.  As  soon  as  it  was  in  my 
power  I  kept  up  the  exercise  of  morning  and 
evening  prayer  as  regularly  as  the  weather 
would  admit,  and  preached  or  read  a  sermon 
on  the  Lord's-day. 

For  a  considerable  time  I  was  a  restraint 
upon  the  company.    Many  efforts  were  used 
to  break  it ;  and  when  the  poor  captain  had 
disguised  himself  in  liquor,  he  discovered  a 
manifest  prejudice  against  me.    To  prevent 
mischief  1  retreated  to  my  cabin  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  26th  of  December,  when  the  wea- 
ther became  very  foul,  and  the  night  tremen- 
dous.   I  do  not  pretend  to  give  an  exact  ma- 
rine description  of  it,  neither  do  I  mention  it 
to  give  this  narrative  great  consequence. 
Every  sailor  expected  it  would  have  been  a 
fatal  night.    The  captain  said  he  never  was 
in  such  a  storm  before ;  and  he  attributed  our 
salvation  to  the  soundness  and  good  condition 
of  the  vessel.    That  which  added  to  our  dis- 
tress was,  there  were  very  few  working  hands 
on  board.    Some  had  deserted  her  at  Savan- 
nah, others  had  died  there,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  any  fresh  ones  could  be  engaged  in 
the  service,  owing  to  the  rumour  of  a  Spanish 
war  having  broken  out.    Not  only  was  the 
vessel  three  men  short  of  her  usual  comple- 
ment, but  some  of  the  crew  fell  sick  after  we 
had  sailed,  of  which  number  was  the  mate. 
Knowing  that  it  was  imprudent  to  be  alarmed 
upon  every  occasion,  I  went  to  bed  about  ten 
o'clock,  as  did  the  rest  of  the  passengers,  and 
the  captain,  who  was  drunk.    My  cabin  being 
in  the  gangway,  a  situation  I  chose  for  the 
advantage  of  air,  and  more  convenient  retire- 
ment, I  was  awakened  by  the  sea  breaking 
over  the  vessel,  and  coming  into  the  cabin.  I 
had  resolved  to  compose  myself,  and  lay  some 
time  in  prayer,  till  finding  no  body  move  be- 
low, and  hearing  the  language  of  distress 
above,  I  repeatedly,  though  unheard,  called 
to  somebody  to  put  up  the  dead  lights,  sus- 
pecting that  the  sea  would  break  through  the 
cabin  windows.    Having  been  obliged  to  rise, 
through  the  repeated  breaking  of  the  sea,  I 
went  into  the  cabin,  and  found  all  fast  asleep 
but  a  woman,  who  was  lying  in  the  greatest 
agony.    I  had  not  much  difficulty  to  rouse 
them,  and  being  soon  sensible  of  their  situa- 
tion, they  were  roused  indeed.    The  captain 
was  filled  with  rage  that  he  was  not  called 
before,  and  speedily  went  to  work.  The  sails 
were  no  more  to  the  wind  than  a  sheet  of 
paper ;  they  were  torn  to  pieces  before  they 
could  be  furled.    The  steward  came  down 
and  put  up  the  dead  lights,  and  said  there 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


was  little  hope  of  our  surviving  long.  By 
the  lightning,  I  saw  the  masts  bend,  and 
heard  the  men  repeatedly  say  they  would 
be  carried  away.  By  the  good  hand  of  God, 
the  men  were  all  preserved  on  board,  though 
a  great  part  of  our  live  stock  was  washed 
away. 

Not  knowing  but  the  hour  of  my  departure 
was  at  hand,  I  threw  myself  upon  my  bed,  and 
endeavoured  to  compose  myself  into  a  frame 
for  examination  and  prayer.  The  situation 
was  truly  awful.  My  nature  shuddered  ;  but 
amidst  all,  I  found  my  religious  views  profit- 
able, and  I  could  bless  God  for  Jesus  Christ, 
and  an  humble  hope  of  interest  in  him.  My 
chief  concern  was  that  I  had  Mr.  Whitefield's 
will,  and  I  felt  sorry,  that,  by  my  bemg  lost, 
his  executors  should  be  kept  in  suspense. 
However,  on  reflection,  I  thought  it  behoved 
me  to  have  the  more  important  object,  eter- 
nity, uppermost ;  and  I  endeavoured  to  divert 
my  mind  from  every  thing  else.  Two  of  my 
fellow-passengers  came  to  me  crying,  and  la- 
menting their  irreligious  lives.  They  desired 
I  would  go  to  prayer,  and  one  of  them  said  if 
he  survived  this  danger  he  would  lead  a  dif- 
ferent life  to  what  he  had  done.  The  other 
was  fearful  of  death,  but  did  not  discover  any 
remarkable  religious  impression.  My  mouth 
was  open  to  speak  to  them.  Among  other 
remarks,  one  I  made  was — that  if  we  should 
be  spared,  they  would  equally  want  that 
mercy  for  which  they  then  cried.  I  reminded 
them  what  is  the  only  way  and  method  of  sal- 
vation, expatiated  from  their  present  feelings, 
upon  the  necessity  of  a  religion  that  trans- 
forms the  heart,  and  prepares  us  for  all 
events.  They  were  attentive  hearers,  and  I 
believe,  for  once,  heartily  joined  with  me  in 
prayer. 

When  all  was  done  that  was  possible,  the 
captain  said  we  had  but  one  chance,  which 
was  from  the  soundness  of  the  bottom,  and 
that  we  must  now  be  left  to  the  mercy  of  the 
sea.  Poor  man,  he  was  ignorant  of  God  who 
governed  it.  We  prayed  a  second  time  to- 
gether by  joint  consent,  and  the  storm  by  de- 
grees abated;  with  this  our  fears  subsided, 
and  our  hopes  revived.  A  very  great  swell 
continued  for  two  days,  in  which  time  we 
could  neither  sail  by  the  compass,  nor  get 
observation.  By  contrary  winds  we  were 
kept  out  at  sea  much  longer  than  the  time  in 
which  the  captain  usually  made  his  passage 
home.  Hence  he  lost  all  his  patience,  and 
became  very  troublesome.  The  weather  was 
frequently  very  bad,  and  he  as  frequently 
said,  it  was  well  we  had  sea  room.  So  we 
found  it  when  we  came  to  land,  being  in- 
formed that  great  havock  had  been  made 
among  the  shipping,  at  that  time  in  the 
channel.  I  knew  not  at  least  whether  I  was 
more  tired  of  my  situation  or  my  company ; 
both  were  bad  enough.  By  our  loss  of  stock, 
our  provision  ran  very  short,  and  what  re- 


mained was  very  poor.  We  made  land  the 
80th  of  January  1771,  with  hopes  of  setting 
foot  on  shore  in  a  little  time. 

As  the  prospect  of  distress  in  the  late  tem- 
pest wore  away,  my  fellow-passengers  lost 
their  religious  qualms,  and  broke  out  into  ex- 
pressions of  impiety  I  had  not  heard  before. 
When  I  found  them  deaf  to  reason  I  judged 
it  my  duty  to  be  silent,  and  endeavoured  in 
patience  to  possess  my  soul.  I  did  not  go  to 
bed  all  the  last  night  I  was  on  board.  I  spent 
part  of  it  in  writing  a  letter  to  my  thought- 
less fellow-passengers.  In  it  I  frankly  re- 
minded them  of  our  many  mercies,  of  our 
great  deliverance,  and  of  their  abuse  of  both. 
I  reminded  them  of  the  uncertainty  of  life  in 
the  securest  circumstances,  and  exhorted 
them  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

On  the  2d  day  of  February,  a  boat  came 
alongside  the  packet.  I  was  the  only  one  of 
the  crew  that  went  with  her  to  the  shore. 
As  soon  as  I  could  get  discharged  from  the 
custom-house,  I  retired  to  an  inn,  where  I  at- 
tempted to  present  my  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments to  the  God  of  my  salvation,  made  a 
resignation  of  myself  to  his  gracious  disposal, 
and  indulged  myself  in  meditation.  In  the 
evening  I  attended  preaching  in  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's room,  and  found  it  good  to  be  there  ;  af- 
terwards I  retired  to  bed,  and  enjoyed  a 
sweet  sleep.  When  last  at  Dover,  I  was  a 
forlorn  character  with  no  prospects  before  me, 
barely  clad,  and  merely  capable  of  getting 
conveyed  from  place  to  place.  I  now  had  the 
means  of  traveling  comfortably.  I  vented 
my  soul  in  a  line  to  Mr.  Peronet,  of  Canter- 
bury, whose  former  kindness  intitled  him  to 
the  expression  of  my  gratitude. — It  is  good  to 
recall  the  history  of  life  to  mind,  that  we  may 
be  quickened  to  bless  the  Lord:  I  find  plea- 
sure in  the  review,  and  I  feel  this  effect  re- 
sulting from  it.  I  bless  God  I  have  no  dispo- 
sition to  deny  his  mercies,  or  to  conceal  his 
lovingkindness.  May  my  heart  never  be 
the  grave  of  forgetfulness,  but  the  altar  of 
praise.  From  thence  may  grateful  incense 
rise  in  abundance  !  I  give  glory  to  God 
while  I  recite  his  goodness  to  you,  who  pos- 
sess a  great  share  of  that  affection,  that  makes 
it  pleasant  for  me  to  subscribe  myself,  my 
very  dear  friend,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  XII. 

My  very  dear  friend, — It  is  a  part  of 
the  Christian's  wisdom  to  enjoy  his  mercies, 
but  to  be  cautious  that  he  is  not  impeded  by 
them  in  his  progress.  A  voyage,  or  a  jour- 
ney, is  an  emblem  of  life,  the  end  of  which  is 
to  be  regarded  while  we  use  the  refresh- 
ments of  the  passage.  I  alighted  at  Dover, 
but  was  not  to  be  detained  a  second  day,  since 
I  had  an  opportunity  to  set  oft'the  next  morn- 
ing for  London,  whither  I  arrived  safe  in  the 
evening.    The  first  house  I  held  myself 


36 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


bound  to  go  to,  was  Mr.  Keen's,  woollen- 
draper,  in  the  Minories,  a  principal  friend  of 
Mr.  Whitefield's,  and  one  of  his  executors. 
He  gave  me  a  most  kind  reception.  Alter 
the  first  salutation,  he  said,  he,  and  Mr. 
Hardy,  and  Mr.  West,  the  other  managers  of 
Mr.  Whitefield's  concerns,  had  been  but  once 
sorry  they  let  me  go,  and  that  had  been  ever 
since.  Having  delivered  Mr.  Whitefield's 
will  to  him,  and  spent  some  hours,  he  said  he 
hoped  I  should  make  the  Tabernacle-house 
my  home.  I  signified  it  had  the  preference 
of  all  other  places.  The  next  day  I  had  the 
pleasure  to  see  my  relations,  now  lovers  and 
followers  of  that  gospel  they  once  despised. 
The  letters  I  had  received  from  them  while 
abroad,  prepared  me  for  this  agreeable  sight, 
and  our  meeting  was  an  emblem  of  that 
which  I  trust  we  shall  have  on  the  other  side 
of  Jordan,  notwithstanding  the  strong  efforts 
used  by  the  enemy  of  souls  to  prevent  it. 

I  knew  my  business  required  despatch, 
and  I  was  desirous  to  know  the  issue.  I 
therefore  proceeded  immediately  upon  it, 
and  a  very  few  days  ended  it.  When  my 
friends  saw  how  well  recommended  I  came 
home,  they  all  seemed  positive  that  I  should 
succeed.  Mr.  Broughton,  on  reading  Mr. 
Habersham's  letter,  made  no  doubt  of  it.  He 
seemed  pleased  exceedingly  with  my  recom- 
mendations, but  want  of  courage  in  a  good 
cause,  and  the  pevalence  of  the  fear  of  man, 
suffered  him  to  subvert  the  design  of  his  let- 
ter, for  he  never  showed  it  to  the  bishop, 
though  he  was  present  at  the  society  at  Bow 
church,  when  my  case  was  canvassed.  I 
wish  to  make  no  reflection  upon  Mr.  Brough- 
ton's  pusillanimity.  Providence  saw  lit,  no 
doubt  for  wise  ends,  to  frustrate  my  intention 
in  America,  by  shutting  up  the  bishop's  heart 
against  me,  as  will  appear  by  a  letter  I  wrote 
to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Zububuhler's  executors,  giv- 
ing them  an  account  of  the  whole  process  of 
the  affair  after  my  arrival,  which  was  as  fol- 
lows : 

"Gentlemen, — "While  I  possess  much 
satisfaction  upon  a  recollection  of  the  pru- 
dence with  which  I  have  conducted  myself 
since  I  arrived  in  England,  and  have  com- 
menced candidate  for  holy  orders,  it  gives  me 
pain  on  many  accounts  that  I  am  obliged  to 
inform  you,  that  neither  your  strong  recom- 
mendations, nor  the  use  I  have  made  of  them, 
have  been  productive  of  their  desired  effect. 
There  is  a  first  cause  for  all  the  disappoint- 
ments we  meet  with  in  life,  and  we  should 
be  reconciled  to  them. — One  would  have 
thought  the  great  pains  you  have  been  put  to, 
the  character  you  have  so  kindly  given  me, 
the  generosity  you  have  shown  me,  together 
with  the  additional  favour  of  his  excellency's 
and  Mr.  Frink's  recommendation  to  his  lord- 
ship of  London,  for  my  admission  into  the  es- 
tablishment, were  sure  indications  of  success. 
— But  all  these  have  availed  me  nothing. 


"  That  I  may  not  leave  you  in  the  dark 
about  the  matter,  I  think  it  my  duty  to  state 
the  whole  case  to  you  as  justly  as  possible, 
and  then  you  will  judge  of  the  propriety  of 
the  conduct  of  the  society,  and  of  the  bishop. 

"At  my  arrival  I  waited  upon  Mr.  Knox, 
who,  after  perusing  Mr.  Habersham's  letter, 
was  pleased  to  express  his  great  approbation, 
and  he  directed  me  to  Dr.  Burton,  to  whom 
he  desired  I  would  signify  the  letter  he  had 
received,  and  ask  directions  how  I  should  pro- 
ceed. The  doctor  read  that  part  of  Mr.  Zu- 
bubuhler's will,  that  respects  the  instruction 
of  negroes;  he  observed  it  was  plain  Mr. 
Zububuhler  designed  the  gentleman  employed 
should  be  in  orders,  but  gave  it  as  his  ad- 
vice, that  as  I  wanted  nothing  from  the  so- 
ciety, I  should  immediately  go  to  the  bishop 
of  London  with  the  letters  directed  to  him. 

"  The  next  morning  I  waited  upon  his  lord- 
ship, who,  after  reading  the  testimonials,  sent 
for  me  into  his  room.  He  said,  '  You  have 
been  over  to  America  as  a  preacher  ?'  I 
answered,  '  No,  as  a  catechist.'  '  But,'  said 
his  lordship,  '  You  have  preached !'  I  replied, 
'  I  have  attempted  to  explain  the  Scriptures 
to  the  negroes,  and  some  people's  curiosity 
have  excited  them  to  hear;'  to  which  he 
answered,  '  It  was  illegal ;  you  had  no  right 
to  do  so.'  As  I  stood  before  his  lordship  as  a 
candidate,  and  not  as  a  causist  to  defend  my 
conduct,  I  judged  it  prudent  upon  this,  and 
some  other  remarks  not  very  material,  to  be 
silent. 

"  The  next  question  was,  where  was  I  edu- 
cated ?  I  answered,  '  My  lord,  I  have  had  no 
education,  but  what  I  have  acquired  by  dint 
of  industry.'  His  lordship  proceeded  to  in- 
quire where  I  was  born,  and  to  what  I  was 
brought  up?  I  replied,  I  was  born  in  London, 
served  seven  years'  apprenticeship  to  a  me- 
chanic, and  as  soon  as  possible  afterwards  ap- 
plied myself  to  the  study  of  divinity.  His 
lordship  asked,  'Then  how  came  you  to  go 
over  to  America  V  To  which  I  answered,  '  On 
purpose  to  see  if  I  could  be  of  any  service  to 
the  negroes.'  '  Then,'  said  his  lordship,  '  you 
went  over  with  Mr.  Whitefield  ?'  I  replied, 
'  Yes,  my  lord.'  He  added,  '  Then  I  suppose 
you  have  been  connected  with  him  V  I  re- 
plied, '  My  lord,  I  cannot  with  propriety  say, 
I  have  been  connected  with  any  body  else.' 
His  lordship  was  pleased  to  commend  me,  in 
being,  as  he  termed  it,  honest  to  him,  in  not 
leaving  him  in  the  dark,  and  directly  added, 
'  Then  to  be  sure  you  have  drank  deep  into 
his  sentiments?'  To  which  I  replied,  'I  hope, 
my  lord,  I  shall  be  enabled  to  give  a  degree 
of  satisfaction  upon  examination.'  He  said, 
'I  hope  you  have  not  baptized  children?'  I 
replied,  'By  no  means;  Mr.  Frink  promised 
me  his  assistance  in  the  discharge  of  that 
office,  till  I  should  be  authorized.'  He  then 
inquired  if  I  had  read  Burnet  upon  the  Arti- 
cles.   I  replied  I  had,  with  other  authors  for 


HIS  OWN 

my  instruction  and  information. — This  was 
the  purport  of  our  conference,  and  I  can  make 
.no  very  considerable  mistake,  as  I  minuted  it 
down  the  very  moment  I  left  his  lordship.  He 
said  he  should  do  nothing  tor  me  of  himself, 
that  it  was  always  usual  tor  missionaries  to 
apply  to  him  through  the  society,  that  they 
should  meet  at  Bow  church,  on  the  15th 
instant,  where  I  should  be  examined,  and  he 
should  ordain  the  next  week. 

"  From  the  maimer  in  which  his  lordship 
dismissed  me,  though  there  was  nothing  kind 
in  his  deportment,  for  his  look  was  severe, 
there  was  no  softness  in  his  manner,  and  he 
suffered  me  to  stand  all  the  time  I  was  with 
him,  I  formed  some  expectation  of  success,  and 
was  in  hopes  I  should  meet  with  no  impedi- 
ment. But  to  my  surprise,  after  waiting  in 
Bow  church  till  the  society  was  nearly  broken 
up,  Dr.  Burton  sent  for  me  into  the  vestry,  and 
informed  me,  my  business  had  been  laid  before 
the  society,  who  agreed  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it,  as  there  were  no  letters  directed  to 
them  ;  neither  could  they  recommend  me  to 
the  bishop  of  London,  as  I  wanted  no  assistance 
from  them.  I  attempted  a  reply,  but  was  fre- 
quently interrupted,  being  informed  they 
could  do  nothing  for  me,  and  that  it  was  con- 
cluded on,  that  Mr.  Zububuhler's  will  did  not 
require  that  the  person  employed  on  the  estate 
should  be  a  clergyman.  How  foreign  was 
this  both  to  the  bishop's  and  doctor's  former 
sentiment.  Mr.  Broughton,  who  had  been 
present,  waited  for  my  coming  out,  and  gave 
me  some  account  both  of  his  excellency's,  and 
Mr.  Frink's  letter,  each  of  which  were  ex- 
pressive of  my  moral  conduct.  He  also  in- 
formed me,  that  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury with  others,  made  some  remarks  which 
turned  in  the  negative.  However  all  agreed 
if  his  lordship  of  London  were  disposed  to 
ordain  me,  they  had  no  objection ;  but  his 
lordship  replied,  he  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  American  business  but  through  the 
society ;  and  he  added,  that  he  was  afraid  the 
young  gentleman  had  drank  deep  into  Mr. 
Whitefield's  doctrine. 

"  I  was  very  much  concerned  that  Mr.  Knox 
was  not  present  at  Bow  church,  till  I  waited 
upon  him  in  the  evening,  when  he  gave  for 
reason,  that  he  knew  it  would  be  of  no  pur- 
pose, having  met  the  committee  the  evening 
before,  which  consisted  of  the  same  body — that 
Dr.  Young,  bishop  of  Norwich,  and  several 
others,  refused  to  see  Mr.  Habersham's  letter, 
or  to  attend  to  the  subject.  Somebody  inform- 
ed them  that  the  executors  had  spoken  very 
disrespectful  things  of  the  society  and  their 
missionaries;  and  it  was  farther  observed,  the 
executors  had  no  right  to  employ  any  person 
without  the  consent  of  the  society.  These,  in 
general,  are  the  things  Mr.  Knox  related  to 
me.  I  advised  with  him  whether,  as  his  lord- 
ship had  not  put  a  negative  upon  me  person- 
ally, I  should  not  wait  upon  him.  Mr.  Knox 
4 


ACCOUNT.  37 

thought  I  should;  and  that  I  should  write 
something,  and  send  it  to  his  lordship  first, 
lest  by  sharpness  of  speech,  he  should  pre- 
vent me  from  speaking  my  mind  to  him ;  ac- 
cordingly, I  retired  to  a  friend's  house,  and 
wrote  the  following  letter: 

'  My  lord, — It  has  given  me  inexpressible 
pain  to  think  that  any  misconduct  or  mistake, 
either  in  myself  or  the  gentlemen  intrusted 
with  the  affairs  of  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  Zubu- 
buhler,  should  prevent  your  approbation.  My 
being  ignorant  of  the  assigned  means  to  ob- 
tain so  desirable  an  end,  I  hope  will  be  an 
excuse  in  my  favour,  as  it  is  strictly  true,  nor 
can  I  in  any  other  way  apologize  for  the 
honourable  and  worthy  gentlemen  in  whose 
service  I  am  embarked.  I  should  rejoice  in 
an  opportunity  to  give  your  lordship  the 
strongest  proof  of  the  uprightness  and  sin- 
cerity of  my  heart,  actuated  by  no  motive  in- 
ferior to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  very 
miserable  and  benighted  condition  of  those 
slaves,  for  whom  no  man  can  labour  with  a 
view  to  their  spiritual  interest,  without  suf- 
fering reproach.  It  is  true  when  I  first  en- 
gaged in  the  undertaking,  I  was  under  no  ap- 
prehension that  this  would  be  the  concomitant 
of  such  an  enterprise  ;  but  I  have  since  learn- 
ed by  experience,  that  it  is  one  mark  among 
many  given  by  the  colonists,  of  their  disap- 
probation of  the  instruction  of  their  slaves.  I 
would  beg  leave  to  observe  to  your  lordship, 
that  the  26th  of  last  December  was  a  day  of 
so  great  distress  as  to  render  the  annual  re- 
turn of  it  memorable  to  me,  while  memory 
will  help  me  to  recollect  the  works  of  the 
Lord,  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep.  From 
the  gloomy  prospect  then  before  my  eyes,  and 
the  imminent  danger  the  most  skilful  mariner 
on  board  our  ship  acknowledged  we  were  in, 
there  was  little  room  to  hope  I  should  have 
had  occasion  to  solicit  your  lordship's  sanc- 
tion. I  am  persuaded,  if  your  lordship  were 
acquainted  with  my  principles,  they  would 
afford  you  all  possible  satisfaction ;  as  I  have, 
through  divine  mercy,  derived  them  from  that 
fountain  from  whence  no  impure  stream  can 
proceed,  neither  can  vicious  sentiments  be 
found  there. 

'Encouraged  by  your  lordship's  patronage, 
I  am  once  more  willing  to  leave  my  dear 
country  and  friends,  and  venture  across  the 
Atlantic,  suffer  inclement  weathers,  and,  as 
must  be  the  case  to  be  of  real  service  to  the 
negroes,  many  disagreeable  inconveniences 
and  much  weariness,  if  by  any  means  I  may 
be  instrumental  of  turning  some  of  them  from 
darkness  to  light.  But,  if  I  am  denied  what 
is  the  only  apparent  means  to  give  me  accept- 
ance, I  shall  consider  it  the  voice  of  Provi- 
dence, directing  me  to  take  up  my  residence 
again  in  my  native  land,  till  I  shall  be  called 
to  enter  the  rest  remaining  for  the  people  of 
God.  I  shall  esteem  it  a  very  singular  honour 
done  me,  to  be  favoured  with  your  lordship's 


38  MEMOIRS  OF 

countenance;  and  even  though  I  should  he 
denied,  shall  think  myself  under  equal  obliga- 
tion to  pray  for  your  lordship's  long  life  and 
increasing  usefulness  in  the  church,  while  I 
can  subscribe  myself,  witli  submission,  my 
lord,  your  lordship's  most  dutiful  son,  and 
obedient  servant,  &c.' 

"  After  his  lordship  had  perused  the  above 
letter,  he  sent  for  me  into  him,  and  said,  '  I 
suppose  you  have  heard  what  the  society  have 
concluded  on  }'  I  replied,  '  My  lord,  I  have ; 
and  as  it  is  a  matter  entirely  left  to  your  lord- 
ship, I  hope  you  will  determine  it  in  my  fa- 
vour.' But  though  I  urged  the  necessity  by 
repeated  arguments,  the  only  reply  he  made 
was,  '  I  can  do  nothing  in  it'  He  observed, 
coincident  with  the  society,  the  will  did  not 
require  me  to  be  ordained ;  and  when  I  told 
him  I  could  not  think  of  returning  in  my  pre- 
sent circumstances,  he  said,  '  I  must  do  as  I 
please,'  and  withal  added,  '  Now  Mr.  White- 
field  is  dead,  you  want  to  throw  yourself  un- 
der our  wing.'  He  said,  they  had  an  objec- 
tion against  ordaining  any  person  brought  up 
to  business ;  and  frequently  repeated,  that 
'  Every  body  might  say  they  have  a  call  to 
preach ;'  and  that '  I  had  been  a  preacher  with 
Mr.  Whitefield,  which  was  illegal.'  To  each 
of  these  I  made  a  reply  in  submission  to  his 
lordship's  judgment,  but  did  not  dwell  upon 
them,  remembering  the  circumstances  in 
which  I  stood.  At  last  he  began  to  reflect 
very  severely  upon  the  executors,  for  sending 
to  Mr.  Whitefield  for  a  missionary,  in  a  man- 
ner that  is  not  worth  while  to  trouble  you 
with  a  narration  of,  saying,  '  The  society  has 
been  used  ill ;'  and  concluded  with  these  words, 
'  To  be  plain  with  you,  Mr.  Winter,  we  had 
information  from  America  of  your  going  over, 
long  before  you  embarked  from  England,  and 
had  warning,  even  though  you  should  return 
home,  not  to  ordain  you.' 

"I  think  I  have  been  as  just  and  circum- 
stantial in  my  account  as  I  can.  I  wish  the 
prolixity  of  it  may  not  tire  your  patience.  The 
most  disagreeable  part  I  have  to  act,  in  con- 
sequence of  my  disappointment,  is  the  resign- 
ation of  my  poor  charge  according  to  my  in- 
tention, which  I  hinted  when  I  was  favoured 
with  a  meeting  among  you :  for  though  I  have 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  negroes  much  at 
heart,  yet  I  could  not  think  my  labours  would 
be  employed  solely  among  them ;  and  the  im- 
portunities of  my  numerous  friends  to  stay  at 
home,  give  me  to  know  how  much  more  ac- 
ceptable I  shall  be  among  them,  than  among 
the  very  few  in  the  province  of  Georgia,  who 
will  not  dispense  with  my  want  of  ordination. 

"  I  bear  upon  my  heart  a  very  grateful 
sense  of  your  generosity  and  kindness,  in 
making  me  so  exceedingly  comfortable  in  my 
outward  circumstances,  and  am  sorry  that  by 
the  necessity  I  am  under  to  resign  my  charge, 
it  lias  proved  so  fruitless  an  expence.  I  hope 


C.  WINTER. 

the  Almighty  of  his  infinite  mercy,  will  raise 
up  some  person  more  capable  of,  and  success- 
ful in  the  important  work,  than  it  has  been  in . 
my  power  to  be.  Whoever  have  been  my 
liinderance  I  freely  forgive  them,  and  pray  God 
it  may  not  be  laid  to  their  charge.  There 
will  be  a  day  wherein  all  the  upright  in  heart 
shall  glory,  and  in  that  day,  my  motive  for 
coming  to  Georgia  will  appear  such  as  I  shall 
not  be  ashamed  of ;  nor  will  it  then  appear 
less  evident,  that  my  resignation  is  not  the 
effect  of  a  fickle  and  unstable  mind. — Since 
my  rejection,  I  have  waited  upon  every 
gentleman  who  I  judged  had  any  interest, 
and  among  the  rest,  upon  Dr.  Franklin,  who 
has  engaged  to  use  his  exertions  on  my  be- 
half with  the  associates  of  Dr.  Bray,  of  which 
society  he  is  a  member.  In  about  a  month  I 
shall  be  able  to  judge  of  his  success,  and  shall 
be  glad  to  convince  the  executors  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Zububuhler,  of  my  good  will  to  continue 
in  their  service,  and  in  the  interim  I  beg  leave 
to  subscribe  myself,  gentlemen,  your  very 
humble  and  obedient  servant,  &c. 
"  London,  February  26,  1771."  • 

Just  as  I  shut  the  door  on  leaving  'the 
bishop,  he  called  to  me,  which  led  me  to  think 
the  scale  was  turned,  but  he  only  said,  "  When 
you  return  to  America  let  me  know:"  to  which 
I  replied,  "  My  lord,  I  cannot  think  of  return- 
ing without  ordination :"  bowing  his  head,  he 
said,  "Very  well;  and  thus  we  parted  till 
the  judgment  day. — The  thread  of  the  nar- 
ration requires  that  I  should  introduce  Mr. 
Clay's  answer  to  the  above  letter,  which  runs 
thus : 

"  Dear  sir, — Your  much  esteemed  favour 
of  the  26th  of  February  last,  I  have  now  he- 
fore  me  for  reply.  I  should  have  answered  it 
sooner,  but  waited  the  arrival  of  Captain 
Anderson,  who,  I  had  some  hopes,  might 
probably  have  brought  us  some  better  news 
in  regard  to  the  success  of  your  endeavours 
to  obtain  ordination,  but  I  find  to  no  purpose — 
God's  will  be  done ;  he  knows  what  is  best 
for  us,  and  will  do  it  in  that  way  that  seem- 
eth  him  best.  Were  I  to  say  I  am  not  ex- 
tremely sorry  for  your  disappointment  on  your 
own  account,  I  should  say  a  great  untruth.  I 
should  have  been  very  happy  to  have  seen 
you  in  this  land  again,  could  you  have  come 
in  a  proper  manner,  I  mean  in  orders :  but  as 
a  friend  I  could  not  as  matters  have  turned 
out,  advise  your  returning  here.  There  are 
many,  very  many,  considering  the  number  of 
our  inhabitants,  and  some  of  those  in  authori- 
ty, who  rejoice  exceedingly  at  your  disap- 
pointment; and  perhaps,  if  in  their  power, 
would  render  you  all  the  ill  offices  they  could. 
Indeed  some  of  them,  I  am  pretty  sure,  have 
been  as  industrious  as  possible  already,  to 
prejudice  you  all  they  could  on  this  side,  and 
glory  in  it.  All  this  I  know  would  be  nothing 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


39 


to  you,  if  you  could  have  any  prospect  before 
you  of  doing  good  to  souls. 

"  As  I  before  observed,  I  am  really  sorry 
for  your  disappointment — but  I  must  be  free 
to  s;iy  it  does  not  give  me  half  so  much  un- 
easiness on  your  own  account,  as  to  see  that  a 
door  is  so  shut  against  us.  Unless  God  in 
his  infinite  mercy  and  goodness,  uses  some 
extra  means  in  our  favour,  this  land,  I  may 
6ay  land  of  darkness  and  ignorance,  (more 
particularly  if  applied  relative  to  the  people 
in  the  back  woods,  many  of  whom  I  dare  say 
never  saw  a  Bible  in  their  lives,  or  ever  heard 
a  gospel  sermon,  and  most  of  whom  can 
neither  write  nor  read,)  must  be  left  without 
teachers  at  least  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ, 
the  true  and  only  Saviour  of  sinners,  unless 
we  encourage  those  who  are  dissenters  from 
the  established  church,  which  for  my  part  I 
have  not  the  least  objection  to,  provided  we 
cannot  get  others.  But  I  must  say  that  I 
think,  if  two  men  equally  qualified  for  the 
ministry,  the  one  of  the  established  church, 
and  the  other  a  dissenter  from  the  church, 
that  the  former  would  be  more  favourably  re- 
ceived, I  mean  in  this  country ;  and  for  which 
reason,  I  would  rather  wish  to  see  episcopal 
ministers  among  us. 

"  What  can  our  dignitaries  think,  or  really 
one  would  rather  ask,  do  they  think  at  all ! 
One  would  imagine,  if  we  were  to  judge  on 
this  side  from  those  they  generally  send 
among  us  as  ministers,  that  their  only  care 
was  to  see  that  they  were  not  religious  men. 
— It  is  surprising  that  there  is  not  one  among 
them,  who  would  venture  to  ordain  such  per- 
sons- as  they  should  have  reason  to  think 
would  prove  faithful  teachers.  This  is,  as  I 
presume,  for  fear  of  the  scoffs  of  their  bre- 
thren. Much  might  be  said  upon  this  head, 
but  perhaps  it  may  be  more  prudent  to  be 
silent.  A  great  part  of  your  opposition  at 
home,  I  am  sure  has  been  owing  to  letters 
from  Mr.  Frink,  particularly  so  far  as  relates 
to  the  society.  I  remember  at  one  of  our 
meetings,  after  that  we  had  received  a  letter 
from  poor  Mr.  Whitefield,  acquainting  us,  he 
had  no  prospect  of  getting  a  person  in  orders 
for  Mr.  Zububuhler's  estate,  some  of  the 
gentlemen  said  that  Mr.  Frink  said,  if  we 
would  give  him  leave,  he  would  write  to  the 
society,  and  get  us  a  proper  person  out  im- 
mediately; to  which  reply  was  made,  that 
we  had  specimens  enough  of  ministers  of 
their  sending  out,  and  that  they  (the  society) 
would  be  the  last  people  we  should  think  of 
writing  to ;  and  I  believe  added,  that  a  per- 
son with  no  other  qualification  than  Mr. 
Frink  himself,  could  by  no  means  suit  us:  all 
this  I  dare  say  was  immediately  carried  to 
him,  and  was  what  I  suppose  the  society 
meant  by  our  speaking  ill  of  them.  I  un- 
derstand they  think  they  have  a  right  to  be 
consulted  in  regard  to  a  catechist,  for  the 
parson's  estate.    They  may  think  so,  but  it 


is  a  right  we  shall  never  allow  them,  nor 
shall  we  ever  trouble  them  in  any  matter 
relative  to  it." 

This  was  dated  from  Savannah,  the  30th 
of  June  1771,  accompanied  with  one  from  Mr. 
Habersham,  from  which  the  following  is  an 
extract : 

"  Perhaps  few  of  your  friends  think  them- 
selves more  interested  in  your  success,  in 
getting  ordination  than  myself,  and  I  think  I 
may  also  truly  say,  that  few,  if  any,  of  your 
friends,  have  a  higher  esteem,  or  more  real 
friendship  for  your  person  than  I  have,  and 
therefore  your  disappointment  has  given  me 
much  concern,  and  I  cannot  help  viewing  it 
as  a  frown  of  divine  Providence. 

"  I  had  raised  my  expectation  of  seeing  a 
church  of  Africans,  and  had  fixed  on  you  as 
the  instrument,  under  God,  to  bring  it  about, 
and  hoped  that  you  would  have  been  the 
happy  man,  to  have  presented  many  of  them 
to  your  Father,  and  to  their  Father,  with  a 
'  Here  am  I,  and  the  children  whom  thou 
hast  given  me.'  You  know  there  are  a  few, 
and  of  no  inconsiderable  property,  who  would 
be  glad  to  have  their  black  servants  become 
fellow-heirs  with  them,  and  partakers  of  the 
inheritance  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away.  Is  it  then  possible  that  the  guardians 
and  fathers  of  our  excellent  church  should 
refuse  orders  to  a  man  every  way  qualified, 
amply  provided  for,  unexceptionable  in  bis 
moral  character,  and  heartily  desirous  from 
the  best  motive,  the  love  of  God,  to  engage 
in  and  promote  so  arduous,  so  painful,  and 
difficult  a  work,  as  the  conversion  of  those 
neglected  and  benighted  people  from,  what 
shall  I  call  it,  prejudice  or  mistake  1  I  could 
say  more  but  I  forbear,  not  doubting  but  God 
will  vindicate  his  own  cause.  I  have  by  this 
conveyance  written  to  good  lady  Hunting- 
don, and  have  desired  her  to  have  some  con- 
versation with  you  on  this  subject,  as  you  are 
circumstantially  acquainted  with  the  state 
and  provision  made  for  the  mission  here  ;  and 
in  case  you  do  not  see  your  way  clear  to  re- 
turn to  us,  a  kind  Providence  may  possibly 
point  out  some  person  properly  qualified, 
agreeable  to  the  will  of  the  donor  to  succeed 
you,  who  I  may  venture  to  say,  will  be 
heartily  received  by  those  intrusted  with  the 
execution  of  it." 

The  review  of  these  letters  may  seem  tedi- 
ous; but  to  any  one  who  may  think  it  worth 
while  to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  me- 
moirs of  a  person  who  feels  himself  insignifi- 
cant, it  is  presumed  they  will  not  appear 
altogether  needless.  As  transcribed  by  my 
own  pen,  they  may  appear  to  savour  of  self- 
applause,  but  they  are  really  inserted  with 
no  other  view  than  to  set  forth  a  naked  truth, 
as  it  relates  to  the  ineftectualness  of  the 
methods  pursued  for  my  obtaining  orders  in 
the  church.  At  this  distance  of  time,  in 
which  I  review  the  whole  affair,  not  less  than 


40 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


a  period  of  twenty-eight  years,  no  other  re- 
flection should  be  indulged  than  what  tends 
to  excite  a  disposition  to  give  glory  to  God. 
If  we  should  not  ascribe  too  much  to  men  in 
a  way  of  applause,  as  though  they  acted  in- 
dependent of  God,  neither  should  we  be  too 
severe  in  our  censures,  as  though  in  that  part 
of  their  conduct  which  seems  reprehensible, 
they  conducted  themselves  by  their  own 
power  or  wisdom.  As  the  hearts  of  kings,  so 
of  other  men  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord. 
Of  promotion,  it  is  observed  that  it  cometh 
neither  from  the  east,  nor  from  the  west,  nor 
from  the  south,  but  God  is  the  judge.  Though 
we  may  be  disappointed,  he  is  not  defeated; 
all  things  are  ordered  according  to  the  coun- 
sel of  his  own  will.  To  the  frustration  of 
my  hope,  my  venerable  and  dear  friend,  Mr. 
Berridge,  refers  in  his  letters,  with  a  few 
sentences  of  which  I  cannot  help  making  the 
conclusion  of  this.  I  give  you  also,  though 
it  relates  not  to  my  concern,  his  idea  of  the 
defeat  of  Mr.  VVhitefield's  design,  because  of 
the  singularity  of  the  style  and  sentiment. 

"It  excites  in  me  no  surprise  that  the 
Orphan-house  is  burnt  down.  It  was  origi- 
nally intended  for  orphans,  and  as  such  was 
a  laudable  design ;  but  has  ceased  to  be  an 
Orphan-house,  in  order  to  become  a  lumber- 
house  for  human  learning,  and  God  has  cast 
a  brand  of  his  displeasure  upon  it ;  but  how 
gracious  the  Lord  has  been  to  Mr.  White- 
field,  in  preserving  it  during  his  lifetime. 
We  all  love  to  lay  plans,  and  you  laid  a  very 
fair  one  last  winter,  but  your  Master  has 
shown  you  he  will  not  employ  you  as  his 
counsellor. 

"  As  to  ordination,  I  can  only  say,  pray  and 
wait  for  a  clear  discovery  of  the  Lord's  mind. 
If  you  find  an  eagerness  for  it,  suspect  that 
eagerness  as  the  produce  of  your  own  will ; 
but  if  you  are  backward,  and  yet  disposed  to 
comply  if  it  be  the  Lord's  will,  it  looks  well. 
Whatever  I  have  undertaken  with  eagerness, 
has  always  miscarried  ;  and  what  I  have  at- 
tempted with  trembling,  and  some  little  re- 
luctance, has  generally  succeeded. 

"  You  had  an  eager  desire  to  go  to  America, 
and  it  was  a  well-meant  desire,  but  it  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  the  Lord's  mind.  At 
length  you  had  a  passage  to  America,  and  it 
seemed  a  providential  one,  and  you  went 
with  joy,  but  returned  with  sorrow  and  dis- 
appointment." 

Perhaps  good  was  done  by  going  to  Ame- 
rica, of  which  I  am  not  acquainted.  With 
this  conjecture  I  conclude  this  letter,  and  re- 
main, my  very  dear  friend,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  XIII. 
My  very  dear  friend, — Goodness  and 
mercy  were  exercised  towards  me  in  that 
very  event,  which  appeared  to  be  unfavour- 
able.   While  I  wae  in  America,  there  was 


continual  murmuring  at  the  conduct  of  the 

British  ministry.  Yet  little  did  I  think  a 
continental  war  was  so  near.  I  scarcely  got 
my  foot  upon  the  English  shore,  before  1 
found  the  resistance  of  the  Americans  to 
taxes  the  general  topic ;  and  had  I  succeeded 
in  my  endeavours,  I  must  have  experienced 
soon  the  horrors  of  war.  But  not  immedi- 
ately apprised  of  this,  you  may  suppose  the 
disappointment  I  met  with  was  attended 
with  a  little  shock.  Though  it  produced 
some  uneasy  feelings,  they  were  very  incon- 
siderable, and  over-balanced  by  the  testimony 
of  my  conscience.  I  had  used  no  shifts  nor 
evasions  to  insinuate  myself  into  his  lord- 
ship's favour,  judging  them  to  be  beneath  the 
Christian.  Some  of  my  brethren .  have  re- 
flected upon  me  for  trying,  as  they  supposed, 
the  whole  bench  to  obtain  ordination;  but  I 
never  applied  to  any  beside  the  bishop  of  St 
Asaph,  after  the  bishop  of  London  refused 
me.  The  interview  with  the  former  was 
short,  but  favourable ;  he  told  me  he  would 
be  my  friend  under  the  rose,  but  I  did  not 
wait  upon  him  the  second  time.  Some  of 
the  clergy  in  Dr.  Bray's  association,  re- 
quired, in  order  to  my  having  their  interest, 
that  I  should  renounce  my  present  senti- 
ments; but  Dr.  Franklin,  properly  said  he 
was  persuaded  I  had  too  much  honesty  to  do 
so;  when  he  mentioned  it  to  me,  I  told  him  I 
had  no  sentiment  to  renounce.  A  circum- 
stance not  unworthy  of  notice,  is,  that  on 
going  out,  I  landed  in  Charleston  with  two 
guineas  in  my  pocket;  and  by  making  Mr. 
Whitefield  a  gratuitous  present  of  half-a-dozen 
bottles  of  port  wine,  I  was  reduced  to  one 
pound  four  shillings.  I  acquitted  myself 
properly  in  Georgia,  and  had  some  occasions 
to  exercise  humanity,  and  brought  home 
twelve  guineas. 

Mr.  Keen,  who  received  me  so  cordially  at 
my  arrival  home,  was  ever  anxious  to  know 
the  event  of  my  applications  to  the  bishops, 
and  discovered  a  degree  of  pleasure  when  he 
found  my  prospect  shut  up.  He  frequently 
said  in  a  way  of  pleasantry,  "  We  will  ordain 
you :  you  had  better  go  down  to  Bristol  and 
bury  yourself  for  a  month,  and  then  return  to 
your  old  office  of  reading  prayers  at  the 
chapel."  I  replied,  I  knew  I  was  called  to 
preach  the  gospel,  but  did  not  know  I  was 
called  to  read  prayers.  He  said  they  could 
have  preachers  enough.  He  asked  me  what 
I  intended  to  do,  I  said,  preach  the  gospel, 
"Where?"  "In  the  whole  world  if  called  to 
it."  The  favour  of  kindness  before  this  had 
abated.  I  gave  offence  by  using  a  sheet  of 
writing  paper,  and  the  paper  case  was  locked 
up;  and  being  asked  if  I  could  not  get  a 
lodging  at  my  relation's,  I  took  the  question 
as  an  ejectment,  and  left  my  quarters. 

In  the  order  of  divine  Providence,  there  is 
a  strange  combination  of  circumstances,  by 
which  what  is  appointed  is  brought  to  pass. — 


HIS  OWN 

In  the  6amc  year,  died  Mr.  Whitefield,  Mr. 
Howel  Davies,  the  head  of  Calvinistical  me- 
thodism  in  Pembrokeshire,  and  Mr.  Adams, 
of  Rodborough,  the  leader  of  the  same  cause 
in  Gloucestershire  and  Wilts.  Though  the 
Tabernacle  at  Bristol  was  under  Mr.  White- 
field's  auspices,  yet  strange  to  say,  in  his 
will  he  made  not  the  least  mention  of  it. 
The  trustees  in  London  offered  to  befriend 
it ;  but  would  not  accept  it  as  part  of  their 
charge.  All  was  confusion  there.  The  two 
considerable  men  then  depended  upon,  were 
Messrs.  Collet  and  Ireland.  Preachers  in 
that  department  were  very  scarce  indeed. 
Mr.  Croom,  of  Rodborough,  much  against  his 
will,  had  been  detained  at  Bristol  twelve 
months.  Pressing  letters  were  sent  to  me, 
particularly  by  Mr.  Ireland  and  Mr.  Hogg, 
who  also  was  a  leading  man  in  the  Bristol 
and  Gloucestershire  cause,  and  by  the  death 
of  Mr.  Adams,  became  senior  preacher  in  the 
connexion.  A  very  earnest  letter  from  the 
latter,  which  would  be  proper  to  insert  here 
if  I  could  recover  it,  was  the  means  of  di- 
verting my  attention  from  the  bishop  of  St. 
Asaph. — Judging  that  in  that  letter,  the  voice 
of  Providence  was  to  be  heard  very  loudly, 
I  released  myself  from  the  inconveniences 
of  my  London  situation,  and  re-entered  upon 
my  ministerial  labours  at  Bristol.  I  was  kindly 
received  by  all.  I  endeavoured  to  act  the  part 
of  a  moderator,  in  which  I  happily  succeed- 
ed. But  it  proved  I  had  here  a  cup  to  drink, 
not  the  most  agreeable  to  flesh  and  blood. 
After  I  had  indefatigably  served  the  con- 
gregation for  more  than  six  months,  upon 
terms  very  different  from  those  of  the  gen- 
tlemen who  now  serve  it,  I  was  dismissed 
under  many  marks  of  unkindness. 

A  variety  of  occurrences  turning  up  at 
this  time,  crowd  in  upon  my  mind. — It  was 
the  8th  of  April  1771,  that  I  went  to  Bristol, 
and  in  about  three  weeks  after,  my  very 
happy  acquaintance  commenced  with  my 
dear  and  most  highly  esteemed  friend,  Mr. 
Rowland  Hill.  This  has  been  one  of  the 
greatest  mercies  of  my  life.  It  is  now  more 
than  twenty-eight  years  that  I  have  enjoyed 
it  If  the  same  degree  of  honesty  and  ho- 
nour, had  been  in  some  pretended  friendships, 
that  I  have  proved  in  him,  there  had  not, 
been  such  diversity  in  these  memoirs.  From 
the  Sabbath  on  which  1  had  the  pleasure  to 
introduce  him  into  the  Tabernacle  pulpit,  has 
religion  been  reviving  through  his  instru- 
mentality, and  the  flame  has  burned  strong 
ever  since.  Other  instruments  may  have 
helped  it,  but  it  began  with  him.  May  his 
dear  and  valuable  life  be  continued  long 
after  the  hand  that  writes  these  lines  is  mo- 
tionless. 

He  had  come  from  the  north,  and  it  was 
practicable  to  detain  him.    Ho  was  then 
under  the  frowns  of  his  family ;  by  his  de- 
voted, and  invariable  attachment  to  the  gos- 
F  4* 


ACCOUNT.  41 

pel,  a  distressed  gentleman.  I  felt  a  peculiar 
attachment  to  him,  and  but  from  my  con- 
straint to  the  ministry,  which  I  found  I  dare 
not  relinquish,  should,  pro  tempore,  have 
made  a  voluntary  offer  of  my  humble  services 
to  him  as  an  attendant.  At  this  time  also  I 
became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Joseph  Ship- 
man,  who  was  one  of  the  six  students  ex- 
pelled from  Oxford.  My  acquaintance  with 
him  commenced  from  a  very  affecting  letter 
he  wrote  the  Bristol  society,  who  had  partook 
of  his  short  labours  in  the  decline  of  life.  1 
spent  much  time  with  him,  and  found  it  very 
profitable.  He  wanted  services  I  was  ena- 
bled to  render  him,  and  I  found  my  being 
with  him  opened  a  door  of  many  mercies  to 
me.  One  anecdote  I  cannot  omit  to  commu- 
nicate. I  had  no  more  at  this  time  than, 
literally,  daily  bread.  Not  returning  to 
America,  I  had  no  farther  claim  upon  the 
plantation.  My  twelve  guineas  which  I 
Drought  home  were  exhausted.  My  dying 
friend  used  to  remind  me,  that  I  wanted  a 
new  suit  of  clothes :  I  replied,  when  I  could 
pay  for  them  I  would  have  them.  Neglect- 
ed by  the  Tabernacle  connexions,  I  was  at 
liberty  for  any  opening  Providence  might 
make  to  me.  Itineracy  seemed  to  be  my  lot; 
but  I  was  neither  equipped  for  such  a  life, 
nor  had  I  ability  to  equip  myself.  Mr.  Ship- 
man,  remarking  that  I  wanted  a  horse,  I 
said,  if  I  run  in  debt  for  any  thing,  it  must  be 
for  that.  I  had  occasionally  hired  one,  for 
which  I  was  disposed  to  bargain ;  but  when 
the  bargain  was  made,  I  signified  I  had  not 
money  to  pay  for  it,  and  thus  became  a  debtor 
of  ten  pounds  for  a  horse,  which  carried  me 
more  than  six  years.  A  party  of  gentry 
which  was  at  Clifton,  had  heard  of  the  pleas- 
ing frame  of  Mr.  Shipman's  mind,  and  was 
desirous  of  seeing  and  conversing  with  him. 
Captain,  now  Sir  Charles  Middleton,*  was 
one  of  them,  to  whom  I  dedicated  Mr.  Ship- 
man's  funeral  sermon ;  he  came  to  the  Taber- 
nacle to  hear  me,  repeatedly  invited  me  to 
dine  with  the  party,  and  the  last  time,  pre- 
vious to  my  going  away,  surprised  me  with  a 
present  of  ten  guineas.  This  I  note  as  a  kind 
interposition  of  divine  Providence,  though 
not  the  only  one  by  very  many  since,  where- 
by my  wants  have  been  supplied. — At  this 
juncture  it  was,  that  my  honoured  and  wor- 
thy friends,  Mr.  Powis,  and  Mr.  Hill,  now 
Sir  Richard,  gave  me  the  honour  of  their 
friendship.  My  introduction  was  by  Mr. 
Rowland  Hill.  By  several  annual  visits  to 
them,  and  intermediate  interviews,  my  ex- 
hausted cruise  was  supplied.  I  always  found 
in  Mr.  Powis's  family,  I  was  out  of  my  sphere ; 
but  studied  to  make  myself  as  agreeable  as 
possible :  and  though  my  ministerial  labours 
there,  were  attended  with  some  peculiar  dif- 
ficulties to  myself,  they  were  in  general  use- 
ful to  others.  I  visited  the  amiable  widow 
+  Now  lord  Barham. 


42 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


of  Mr.  Powis,  repeatedly  after  his  death,  and 
always  found  a  kind  reception.  I  frequently 
paid  a  visit  to  Everton  and  its  environs,  and 
found  the  venerable  vicar  ever  disposed  to  be 
kind  and  affectionate.  The  late  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton, who  refused  to  give  me  any  help  in  pro- 
curing orders,  and  reflected  upon  my  having 
engaged  in  the  curate's  place,  at  Tottenham- 
court,  became  my  warm  and  steady  friend. 
He  always  promoted  my  exertions  in  the 
cause  of  God,  was  pleased  at  intelligence  1 
could  give  him,  and  was  free  to  communicate 
any  that  he  thought  I  could  use  to  advantage. 
He  would  sometimes  invite  me  to  London, 
and  require  from  me  the  office  of  chaplain. 
By  his  munificence  my  wants  have  often 
been  supplied,  and  I  have  also  been  enabled 
to  relieve  the  wants  of  others. 

In  the  spring  of  1772,  I  first  visited  the 
society  of  Haverfordwest,  and  repeated  my 
visits  to  that  and  the  neighbouring  congrega- 
tions thrice,  making  a  considerable  stay  each 
time.  The  requisite  labours  were  hard,  but 
they  were  amply  rewarded  by  the  influences 
attending  them,  and  from  the  liberal  disposi- 
tion of  the  people ;  for  spiritual  things  sown, 
ministers  reaped  carnal  things  in  an  abund- 
ance. Strange  that  some  ministers  should 
have  returned  from  their  Welch  tour  to  talk 
about  their  crosses,  the  greatest  of  which 
must  have  been  an  intrusion  upon  their  time ; 
they  could  not  have  had  a  defect  in  their  bed 
or  board.  In  the  years  1774  and  1775,  I  paid 
two  visits  to  a  destitute  congregation  at  Lan- 
caster. I  introduced  the  gospel  at  Garstang, 
where  I  believe  it  continues  established  unto 
this  day.  Here  I  met  with  Mr.  Winton,  who 
has  been  many  years,  and  is  now,  the  minis- 
ter of  Exmouth,  a  Scotch  youth,  in  humble 
life ;  I  brought  him  off  with  me,  and  by  one 
way  and  another,  provided  for  him,  and  taught 
him.  He  was  strictly  an  itinerant  student.  I 
took  him  a  long  circuit,  brought  him  round  to 
Lancaster  again,  and  finding  it  inconvenient 

•  IT 

to  continue  him  my  companion  m  travel,  1 
placed  him  under  Mr.  Titus  Knight,  of  Hali- 
fax, from  whence  he  was  placed  under  lady 
Glenorchy's  patronage.  It  was  a  bold,  some 
would  call  it  a  presumptuous  undertaking, 
but  the  Lord  put  an  honour  upon  it.  From 
Lancaster  I  proceeded  to  revisit  Yorkshire, 
where  I  had  laboured  in  1768,  particularly  at 
Leeds  and  Halifax.  I  paid  occasional  visits 
to  London,  and  was  admitted  to  the  Taber- 
nacle pulpit.  In  Tottenham-court  chapel  I 
preached  but  once  for  many  years,  and  was 
surprised  at  the  largeness  of  the  congrega- 
tion. Mr.  Keen,  displeased  at  my  rejection 
of  his  motion  when  the  bishop  refused  me, 
carried  his  resentment,  and  some  say — a  per- 
son by  me  least  suspected,  heightened  it,  so 
that  I  was  become  an  alien  to  my  mother's 
children.  My  interference  in  a  very  critical 
business  at  Bristol,  wherein  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  credit  of  religion  was  very  nearly 


concerned,  created  me  a  deal  of  expense  and 
trouble,  and  exposed  me  to  reflection.  This 
respected  a  person  held  in  the  highest  esteem 
by  the  religious  and  profane ;  a  man  who, 
though  not  in  affluence,  was  allowed  to  rank 
with  the  polite,  and  was  considered  a  gentle- 
man. The  circle  of  ministers,  and  Mr.  White- 
field,  Mr.  Adams,  and  Mr.  Kinsman  particu- 
larly, never  thought  themselves  happier  in 
Bristol  than  when  they  were  with  him.  He 
might  be  called  the  secretary  of  the  Taber- 
nacle, for  he  kept  all  the  accounts.  Not  a 
flaw  was  in  his  character  till  the  event  re- 
ferred to  was  discovered.  He  concealed  it 
as  long  as  he  could — he  divulged  it  to  me, 
and  I  thought  all  to  whom  I  mentioned  it, 
would  applaud  my  conduct,  and  with  me  fly 
to  his  help ;  but  they  left  me  under  the  bur- 
den I  had  adventurously  taken,  and  forsook 
the  man  in  his  distress,  they  had  honoured  in 
his  prosperity.  To  this  conduct,  Messrs. 
Roquet,  Hill,  and  Grove,  are  exceptions. 
They  stood  forth,  they  eventually  rescued; 
and  their  attention  to  the  same  person  proved, 
that  it  was  not  imprudent  in  me  to  sympathise 
with  a  character  who,  if  he  had  possessed  an 
overgrown  fortune,  would  have  shone  with  it. 

Gloucestershire  and  Wilts  were  the  circle 
in  which  I  more  commonly  moved.  Wotton- 
underedge  and  Frampton,  were,  by  Mr.  Hill's 
instrumentality,  added  to  the  cause. — No  sti- 
pend was  connected  with  my  labours,  and  the 
occasional  gratuities  I  received,  were  too  in- 
considerable to  admit  of  my  commanding  a 
purse.  I  felt  the  importance  of  a  place  to  re- 
tire in,  and  groaned  under  the  want  of  im- 
provement. My  efforts  were  frequently  dis- 
covered, and  as  frequently  reproached  by  the 
enemies  of  literature ;  and  our  connexions 
abounded  with  too  many,  who  made  little  dis- 
crimination between  study  and  sin.  I  furnish- 
ed a  room  in  the  cottage  at  Christian-malford, 
in  Wilts,  adjoining  a  malt-house  which  had 
been  converted  into  a  preaching  place,  of 
which  I  was  extremely  fond,  and  where  I  had 
an  inclination  to  live  and  die.  For  this  room 
I  paid  rent;  here  I  collected  my  little  library 
and  papers,  resorted  to  it  as  often,  and  staid 
as  long  as  I  could,  but  as  I  paid  for  all  I  had, 
and  my  purse  contained  shillings  rather  than 
guineas,  I  could  not  continue  there  long  at  a 
time.  It  being  unto  me  whenever  I  could 
get  there,  an  heaven  upon  earth ;  it  may  be 
supposed  I  left  it  with  reluctance.  I  used  to 
tell  my  honoured  friends  in  Shropshire,  that 
if  in  a  day's  time  I  could  be  transported  from 
their  mansion  to  that  cot,  I  should  not,  with 
the  common  fare  of  a  small  piece  of  bacon,  in 
a  large  dish  of  greens,  miss  the  elegancies  of 
the  preceding  day's  table. 

Every  now  and  then  my  inclination  to  be 
ordained  revived ;  hints  given  me  in  Shrop- 
shire, encouraged  it.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Stilling- 
fleet's  influence,  and  his  disposition  towards 
me,  for  I  occasionally  preached  in  his  house. 


HIS  OWN 

prompted  it ;  but  I  doubted  if  it  wero  my  duty 
to  be  silent,  and  by  that  time  I  had  accident- 
ally laid  hold  of  Dr.  Wilton  upon  Subscrip- 
tion, and  Toogood's  Answer  to  White ;  both 
of  which,  with  other  writers  upon  the  subject, 
I  read  with  attention,  and  my  attention  by 
these  authors  was  directed  to  things  which  I 
never  saw  before.  An  instance  of  the  force 
of  episcopal  prejudice  I  must  not  omit  here. 
I  went  to  breakfast  with  Mr.  Hitchen,  one 
morning  after  my  return  from  America.  In 
the  course  of  conversation,  he  asked  me  what 
1  intended  to  do.  I  told  him  to  get  orders,  if 
I  could.  He  said,  "  I  love  a  clergyman  to  my 
heart,  and  have  had  a  great  desire  to  go  into 
the  church ;  but,  (stretching  out  his  hand,  and 
laying  hold  of  a  flat  volume  which  contained 
the  Canons  and  Articles,)  these  always  pre- 
vent me."  He  referred  to  some  particulars, 
and  made  his  remarks ;  when  I  left  him,  the 
conflict  between  prejudice  and  conviction 
was  so  powerful,  that  it  made  me  ill;  and, 
though  so  early  in  the  day,  I  was  obliged  to 
retire  to  bed.  Better  informed  upon  the  sub- 
ject now,  than  I  had  formerly  been,  my  mind 
became  settled ;  and  I  determined  if  once  I 
received  ordination  among  the  Dissenters  of 
any  description,  never  to  invalidate  it  by  sub- 
mitting to  any  other.  Though  to  be  the  pas- 
tor of  a  particular  flock,  was  congenial  to  my 
turn  of  mind,  yet  the  strength  of  affection  to 
my  methodistical  circle  would  not  admit  of 
my  deserting  it.  I  wanted  to  be  more  effect- 
ually useful  among  them.  The  want  of  the 
ordinances  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's-supper, 
being  regularly  administered,  was  a  manifest 
disadvantage  to  the  work.  Mr.  Hill  saw  it 
and  lamented  it,  and  proposed  my  receiving 
ordination.  I  was  to  be  ordained  to  the  three 
societies  of  Castle-combe,  Christian-malford, 
and  Chippenham,  in  Wilts.  Though  these  were 
to  be  my  more  immediate  charge,  it  was  de- 
signed that  I  should  continue  my  visits  to  the 
congregations  in  Gloucestershire,  in  connex- 
ion witli  my  brethren,  Messrs.  Hill,  Hogg, 
Croom,  and  Vines.  The  motion  was  ac- 
cepted. It  may  serve  as  a  sufficient  apology 
for  my  having  been  a  pluralist,  that  I  had  no 
stipend,  but  lived  upon  Providence,  and  was 
ignorant  from  what  quarter  my  resources 
were  to  come.  The  poverty  of  the  people 
not  only  prevented  them  from  helping  me, 
but  rendered  it  necessary,  that  I,  out  of  my 
uncertain  quota,  should  help  them. — The  day 
set  apart  for  the  solemnity  of  ordination,  was 
October  the  2d,  1777.  The  persons  engaging 
in  the  work  of  the  day,  were  Mr.  Joss,  of 
London ;  Mr.  Williams,  of  Stevancy,  in  Mon- 
mouthshire ;  and  Mr.  Clark,  of  Trowbridge. 
It  was  performed  at  my  little  Bethel,  at 
Christian-malford,  and  it  proved  a  blessed 
day.  It  was  honoured  by  the  conversion  of  a 
whole  family  ;  the  parents  died  in  faith,  and 
the  children  are  now  walking  in  the  truth. 


ACCOUNT.  43 

Mr.  Clark  opened  with  an  exposition  of  the 
34th  of  Ezekiel,  from  the  first  to  the  eleventh 
verse,  and  1  Peter  v.  from  the  first  to  the 
fourth  verse.  He  asked  me  such  questions 
as  were  suitable,  and  required  me  to  give  the 
confession  of  my  faith.  After  prefacing  with 
such  observations  and  apology,  as  circum- 
stances rendered  necessary,  I  delivered  it. 
The  three  ministers  satisfied  with  it,  then 
proceeded  with  prayer  and  imposition  of 
hands  to  set  me  apart ;  the  prayer  was  offered 
up  by  Mr.  Williams,  who  afterwards  pro- 
ceeded to  deliver  the  charge  from  2  Tim.  ii. 
1.  This  was  followed  by  a  sermon  from  Mr. 
Joss  to  the  people,  from  1  Thess.  v.  12.  The 
whole  service  continued  five  hours ;  but  was 
so  far  from  being  thought  tedious  by  the  con- 
gregation, that  numbers  acknowledged  they 
were  strangers  to  every  unpleasant  feeling. 
My  own  soul  was  truly  solemn,  and  I  was  so 
affected  when  I  engaged  in  my  part,  that  my 
speech  was  sometimes  interrupted,  and  often 
broken.  I  engaged  to  take  part  of  all  the 
trials  as  well  as  all  the  comforts  of  the  people, 
I  then  was  devoted  to  serve  more  immediately. 

It  was  attended  by  a  very  considerable 
number  of  people.  I  suspected  that  many 
of  the  neighbours  would  have  scoffed  through 
prejudice ;  but  on  the  contrary,  all  behaved 
with  the  strictest  decency,  and  numbers 
were  in  tears.  I  was  suspicious  some  of  my 
church  friends  would  have  been  offended, 
but  met  with  no  instance  of  reflection :  on 
the  contrary,  several  expressed  their  appro- 
bation. One  in  a  note,  said,  "I  can  only 
attend  in  spirit,  and  by  prayer  at  the  throne 
of  grace;  and  hope  the  Lord  will  manifest 
his  gracious  presence  in  a  powerful  manner 
to  the  hearts  of  those  that  attend,  and  renew 
your  mission  to  a  lost  world." 

One  of  the  most  regular  clergymen  sent 
me  the  following  short  letter,  which  I  re- 
ceived the  very  morning  I  was  ordained. 

"  My  dear  friend, — Our  friends  at  Trow- 
bridge have  informed  us  that  you  are  upon 
the  point  of  receiving  ordination  as  a  Dis- 
senting minister.  I  trust  you  will  experience 
the  blessing  and  presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  great  bishop  of  our  souls,  on  this 
and  every  other  occasion,  and  that  you  will 
find  this  sanction  useful  to  you  in  your  mi- 
nisterial employment.  An  external  designa- 
tion, though  not  necessary  to  the  being  of  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel,  is,  where  it  may  be 
had,  ordinarily  expedient  to  the  regular  mi- 
nistration of  the  church  of  Christ.  May  we 
be  enabled  to  preserve  in  all  things,  the  happy 
medium  between  resting  in  outward  things, 
and  despising  those  institutions,  which  the 
church  of  Christ  has  ever  approved." 

None  ever  approved  more  of  the  order,  the 
gospel  requires  than,  my  very  dear  friend, 
yours,  &c. 


44 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


LETTER  XIV. 

My  dear  friend, — It  might  be  supposed 
that  my  ordination  had  been  the  consequence 
of  a  disposition  in  the  people  to  meet  my 
wishes ;  and  that  they  intended  to  assist  me 
with  what  was  necessary  for  the  supply  of 
my  wants,  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  serve 
them  as  faithfully,  as  I  was  disposed  to  serve 
them  affectionately.  But  it  was  rather  sub- 
servient to  the  advantage  of  others  than  ma- 
terially useful  to  those,  for  whose  benefit  it 
was  primarily  designed.  The  issue  of  it,  and 
the  subsequent  providence  of  God  towards 
me,  which  has  been  wise  and  good,  comes  to 
be  opened  to  you. 

I  was  allowed  to  bear  all  the  expense  of 
the  ordination  myself.  The  day  after  the 
service,  I  found  my  spirits  much  fatigued  and 
very  languid.  After  my  friends  left  me,  I 
betook  myself  to  solemn  retirement,  which  I 
spent  in  recollection  and  examination.  The 
retirement  was  as  heaven  to  me,  as  much  as 
earth  would  admit  of;  the  pleasures  of  it 
were  only  damped  by  a  conviction  it  must 
often  be  interrupted ;  for  supposing  I  could 
have  kept  in  the  circuit,  the  accommodations 
of  the  other  two  places,  Chippenham  and 
Castle-combe,  were  not  equally  comfortable, 
as  they  were  unfavourable  to  the  share  of 
solitude  I  required  for  study.  I  might  have 
been  discouraged  with  the  thought,  that  my 
purse  did  not  produce  subsistence  for  a  month. 
But  I  made  the  best  of  the  hour,  and  set  my 
mind  to  such  meditation  as  was  suited  to  the 
ensuing  Sabbath.  Philippians  iv.  1.  opened 
readily  and  widely  to  me,  and  I  went  into 
the  pulpit  with  the  words  in  my  mouth,  and 
with  the  weight  and  importance  of  them  in 
my  heart.  Wherever  I  cast  my  eye,  I  thought 
I  saw  my  brother,  my  sister,  and  my  mother. 
The  ordinance  of  the  sacred  supper,  which  I 
afterwards  administered,  was  attended  with 
some  favourable  tokens,  that  he,  who  gra- 
ciously appointed  it,  was  present.  I  pro- 
ceeded to  move  conscientiously  in  the  cir- 
cuit, and  to  divide  to  each  department  of  the 
household  of  faith,  their  portion  of  meat  in 
due  season.  A  proper  regard  was  paid  to  the 
favourite  object,  itineracy,  which  I  had  been 
given  to  understand,  must  on  no  consideration 
be  dropped,  and  that  the  brethren  in  Glouces- 
tershire might  come  into  my  district,  I  readily 
went  into  theirs.  But  I  soon  found  the  ordi- 
nation had  given  umbrage;  and  though  I  en- 
deavoured to  explain  the  design  of  it  to  be  as 
a  fence  against  intrusion  into  the  ministry,  as 
of  long  establishment,  in  the  christian  church, 
attended  with  evident  marks  of  divine  appro- 
bation, and  suited  to  the  well  organization 
of  christian  society ;  it  was  considered  in  a 
different  light,  rather  subversive  of  the  spirit 
of  godliness,  than  conducive  to  real  good. 
One  of  the  preachers  was  a  Baptist,  and  he 
had  privately  diffused  his  notions,  with  some 


success;  a  consequence  was,  that  my  bap- 
tizing infants,  though  I  performed  the  ordin- 
ance with  great  tenderness  to  those  of  oppo- 
site sentiment,  gave  offence,  and  the  offended 
absconded  from  my  ministry.  Without  as- 
signing the  reason,  they  first  deserted  the 
ordinance  of  the  Lord's-supper,  and  after- 
wards the  preaching.  How  many  are  there, 
who,  over-heated  with  party-zeal,  omit  to 
cultivate  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of 
Christ,  and  deny  to  others  the  claim  they 
make  for  themselves — the  claim  of  private 
judgment;  and  instead  of  living  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  christian  charity,  are  cherishing 
animosity.  Such  persons  read  their  Bible 
with  a  blind  partiality,  and  they  are  not  to 
be  won  by  the  most  courteous  deportment. 
It  gives  them  a  kind  of  diabolical  pleasure 
to  know,  that  they  grieve  the  spirit  of  the 
man  against  whom  they  set  themselves. — In 
hopes  that  I  might  see  better  days,  I  con- 
tinued to  bear  with  their  weakness  who  were 
reprehensible,  giving  place  to  the  services  of 
my  brethren,  to  whom  my  opponents  were 
more  partial. 

At  Castle-combe  and  Chippenham,  I  met 
with  more  civility;  but  little  disposition  to 
render  my  life  comfortable,  or  to  conform  to 
the  order  I  endeavoured  to  establish  among 
them.  At  Rodborough,  Dursley,  Wotton-nn- 
deredge,  and  Frampton,  in  Gloucestershire, 
my  visits  were  acceptable  and  useful.  Every 
one  of  these  places  was  a  field  for  much  ac- 
tion. In  each  place,  I  administered  the  ordi- 
nance of  the  Lord's-supper,  as  often  as  the 
several  societies  judged  it  necessary,  or  found 
it  convenient  to  receive  it.  I  grasped  at  re- 
tirement as  I  could  catch  it ;  but  was  often 
intruded  upon,  and  the  nature  of  my  studies 
being  discovered,  subjected  me  to  much  re- 
flection. I  should  have  been  much  more  ac- 
ceptable to  some  descriptions  of  our  friends, 
if,  instead  of  endeavouring  to  acquaint  my- 
self with  science  and  language,  I  had  in- 
dulged long  conversation  upon  what  amount- 
ed to  nothing;  and  instead  of  spending  a  few 
minutes  had  wasted  many  hours.  I  now  and 
then,  but  seldom,  saw  London;  and  always 
had  access  to  the  Tabernacle  pulpit  when 
there ;  nor  was  the  Tabernacle  pulpit  at  Bris- 
tol shut  against  me,  but  no  invitations  were 
given  to  me,  as  to  others,  to  supply  it.  As 
often  as  possible  I  returned  to  my  little  apart- 
ment, at  Christian-malford,  but  while,  not- 
withstanding the  hard  measures  I  received 
from  some  of  its  leading  members,  I  enjoyed 
it  in  preference  to  every  place  upon  the 
globe,  it  was  not  possible,  for  want  of  subsist- 
ence, that  I  should  continue  there  more  than 
a  few  days  at  a  time,  and  then  my  hours  were 
divided  between  the  other  two  congregations. 
The  malcontents  continued  to  stand  aloof, 
and  I  felt  it  very  unpleasant  to  labour  under 
the  disesteem  of  a  people  who  had  received 
the  fullest  proof  of  my  attachment  to  them. 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


45 


Though  I  had  been  often  grieved,  and  was 
much  neglected  by  several  of  the  leading  peo- 
ple in  the  Methodist  congregations,  my  af- 
fections were  far  from  being  alienated.  My 
method  of  preaching  was  found  fault  with,  as 
too  orderly  and  exact ;  yet  it  always  was  at- 
tended by  audiences  respectable  for  number. 
Could  I  have  moved  regularly,  and  have  com- 
manded necessary  retirement,  I  might  have 
put  up  with  a  variety  of  inconveniences ;  but 
I  often  took  very  long  and  unnecessary  jour- 
neys ;  and  the  plans,  usually  settled  at  Rod- 
borough,  on  the  first  Wednesday  in  the  month, 
were  often  innovated.  I  was  now  entered 
into  the  thirty-fourth  year  of  my  age,  and 
while  on  a  review  of  the  last  twelve  years,  I 
had  reason  to  be  thankful  for  an  evidence  of 
God's  gracious  acceptance  of  my  very  imper- 
fect services,  and  for  the  instances  I  met  with 
of  their  having  been  useful,  I  had  cause  to  be 
humble,  and  could  not  help  feeling  myself 
shocked  on  conviction,  that  I  had,  though  un- 
avoidably, neglected  necessary  pursuits.  I 
considered  that  I  was  now  in  the  meridian 
of  life.  My  confidence  in  my  present  con- 
nexions began  to  weaken,  and  I  felt  much 
inclined,  if  Providence  should  admit,  to  be- 
come a  resident  minister. 

On  conversing  with  Mr.  Sloper,  of  Devizes, 
with  whom  I  had  commenced  a  very  steady 
friendship,  which  had  stood  with  increasing 
affection,  for  more  than  three  years,  he  re- 
ferred me  to  Marlborough,  and  encouraged 
me  to  make  it  an  object  of  attention.  I  was 
struck  with  it,  as  being  contiguous  to  my 
friends,  witli  whom,  notwithstanding  hard 
measures  received,  I  wished  to  continue  in 
the  bonds  of  friendship,  and  judged  it  would 
be  a  situation  favourable  to  frequent  inter- 
views. Accordingly  I  made  myself  acquaint- 
ed with  the  people,  preached  probationary 
sermons,  and  being  accepted  by  the  universal 
consent  of  the  people,  I  commenced  the  rela- 
tion of  pastor  to  the  church,  which  had  been 
organized  by  the  judicious  direction  of  one 
of  the  senior  professors,  who  had  seen  reli- 
gion in  that  town  pass  under  various  revolu- 
tions. 

As  soon  as  I  could  see  the  probability  .of 
my  being  connected  with  the  congregation 
at  Marlborough,  I  communicated  my  inten- 
tion of  withdrawing  from  Cliristian-malford, 
and  its  connexions — the  several  congrega- 
tions in  Gloucestershire.  The  intelligence 
was  not  very  pleasing.  I  observed  it  was  a 
resolution  from  necessity,  and  for  convenience; 
and  that  it  was  my  wish  to  testify  the  conti- 
nuance of  my  affection,  by  visiting  them  as 
often  as  I  could,  and  by  making  an  exchange 
with  their  ministers,  as  opportunity  ottered. 
My  most  highly  esteemed  friend,  Mr.  Hill, 
was  not  pleased  by  the  event,  but  I  presume 
he  saw  the  propriety  of  it.  He  introduced 
me  to  my  new  charge,  February  the  2d,  1778, 
expressing  himself  very  warmly  in  my  favour, 


and  the  next  morning  he  left  mc  to  prove  the 
justice  of  all  he  had  said. 

As  soon  as  he  departed,  my  soul  was  filled 
with  much  distress,  and  an  unusual  gloom 
overspread  me.  I  began  to  suspect  the  pro- 
priety of  my  conduct,  and  to  be  apprehensive 
that  I  had  stepped  out  of  the  path  of  Provi- 
dence. I  retired  to  prostrate  myself  before 
the  Lord,  and  entreated  him  not  to  forsake 
me.  In  the  exercise  of  prayer  I  found  relief; 
had  a  token  for  good  from  whence  I  could 
conclude,  I  should  not  be  left  in  my  new  situ- 
ation comfortless,  nor  useless.  Hitherto  the 
Lord  had  brought  me,  and  it  was  unavoidable 
but  that  I  must  continue  dependent  upon  him. 
I  had  laid  up  nothing  in  store,  and  excepting 
a  little  furniture  and  linen,  and  my  little  li- 
brary, had  nothing  to  bring  with  me  to  Marl- 
borough. As  I  had  engaged  to  serve  the 
people  for  £30  per  annum,  I  was  under  the 
necessity  to  set  out  parsimoniously.  Mr. 
Whitefield's  hints  often  occurred  to  me,  and 
as  I  had  previously  to  my  settling  at  Marlbo- 
rough, adopted  them,  so  in  the  early  part  of 
my  residence  there  especially,  they  were  of 
great  advantage  to  me.  It  was  well  I  had 
learned  to  be  contented  with  a  little,  and  to 
habituate  myself  to  frugality. 

By  an  exhibition  obtained  from  the  inde- 
pendent board,  and  now  and  then  a  present 
obtained  from  my  much  honoured  friend  Mr. 
Thornton,  I  was  enabled  to  render  a  little 
assistance  to  the  poor,  as  well  as  to  defray  my 
own  expenses. 

I  now  more  than  ever  found  the  want  of  a 
greater  share  of  literature.  Marlborough  is 
a  high  church  neighbourhood  and  full  of  pre- 
judice against  methodism,  for  under  that  ap- 
pellation I  was  considered,  and  many  of  its 
inhabitants  are  men  of  letters:  therefore,  that 
I  might  not  disgrace  my  profession  through 
ignorance,  any  more  than  by  making  an  osten- 
tatious parade  of  learning,  I  entered  sparingly 
into  company,  conversed  with  caution,  and 
improved  my  time  to  the  best  advantage.  I 
had  no  notion  of  studying  merely  for  the  sake 
of"  making  myself  an  acceptable  companion ; 
indeed,  to  go  on  with  my  design,  it  was  ne- 
cessary that  I  should  preclude  company.  I 
still  kept  the  important  object  of  an  active 
ministry  in  view,  which  engrossed  all  my 
time.  I  preached  thrice  on  the  Lord's-day, 
met  a  society  on  the  Monday  evening,  statedly 
preached  a  lecture  on  the  Thursday  evening, 
preached  in  the  country  on  Tuesday,  or  on 
Wednesday,  or  on  Friday,  and  very  often  had 
engagements  on  each  day  in  the  evening,  and 
on  Saturday  held  a  reading  and  prayer  meet- 
ing. From  this  rule  I  seldom  deviated,  and 
at, the  same  time  held  a  correspondence,  of 
which  I  have  before  remarked  that  it  took  up 
too  much  of  my  time,  and  diverted  me  from 
more  important  pursuits  in  my  younger  years; 
latterly  it  has  become  indispensable. 

Our  congregations  grew,  and  some  good 


40 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


was  done,  ut  the  prejudice  of  the  neighbour- 
hood was  very  powerful,  and  the  young  peo- 
ple, as  is  usually  the  case,  imbibed  it.  Some 
indiscretions  previous  to  my  settlement  had 
created  disgust,  nor  were  they  entirely  re- 
moved at  my  coming.    I  found  as  I  gained 
knowledge  of  my  flock,  that  I  had  need  of 
patience,  while  I  had  cause  for  thankfulness. 
I  was  not  a  stranger  to  the  divine  presence, 
neither  in  my  retired  moments  nor  in  my 
public  work.  Always  weakly,  I  felt  the  weight 
of  my  office.    I  never  gave  myself  to  intense 
thinking,  but  with  disadvantage  to  my  health; 
nor  was  it  without  a  considerable  degree  of 
languor,  that  I  passed  through  the  exercises 
of  the  study,  or  the  pulpit.   The  closeness  of 
the  country-houses  in  which  I  preached,  and 
the  different  changes  I  passed  from  heat  to 
cold,  had  a  hazardous  effect  upon  my  frame, 
which  though  often  shocked,  has  not  been 
suffered  yet  to  fall.  It  has  been  matter  of  sur- 
prise to  me  that  I  have  been  so  little  disabled, 
amidst  such  sensible  weakness  as  I  have  ex- 
perienced.    Many  great  men  have  fallen 
while  I  have  continued  to  stand.  Sturdy  oaks 
have  been  torn  up  by  the  roots,  while  I,  a 
shrub,  have  only  been  bent  by  the  strength 
of  the  wind.    Why  this  difference,  is  best 
known  to  Him  who  suffers  nothing  to  occur 
by  chance.    Our  times  are  in  his  hands  who 
hath  given  us  our  work,  and  till  our  work  is 
done,  our  day  will  not  close.   Every  star  has 
its  fixed  period  for  rising  and  setting.  It  has 
its  hemisphere  appointed  to  it,  yea,  and  its 
orbit  also.    We  move  arranged  in  our  places 
and  do  the  work  for  which  we  are  appoint- 
ed :  one  shall  not  do  the  work  of  another, 
but  every  man  in  his  own  order.   It  becomes 
us  to  watch  the  appointments  of  Providence, 
to  walk  in  his  paths,  to  take  care  we  do  not 
clash  with  each  other,  neither  to  envy  nor 
despise  one  another;  but  in  our  respective 
stations  to  act  as  the  different  builders  in  the 
same  house,  who,  by  taking  their  respective 
parts  in  the  same  edifice,  aim  jointly  to  bring 
the  fabric  to  its  perfection.    You,  my  very 
dear  friend,  are  an  exact,  may  you  be  a  very 
successful  workman,  in  his  hands,  in  whom 
I  am,  yours,  affectionately. 


LETTER  XV. 

My  very  dear  friend, — I  take  it  for 
granted,  in  what  I  have  remarked  on  the  di- 
vine conduct  with  me,  you  conceived  that  I 
have  rather  been  stating  facts,  than  complain- 
ing of  difficulties.  Nothing  occurred  which 
was  insupportable ;  no  disadvantage  was 
thrown  in  my  way  but  was  remediable.  My 
first  settlement  at  Marlborough  had  many 
inconveniences  attending  it,  which  a  more 
liberal  subsistence  might  have  prevented, 
and  after  a  while,  I  judged  they  were  only  to 
be  relieved  by  matrimony.    I  supposed  there 


would  be  a  delicacy  in  addressing  a  person  of 
property,  myself  being  destitute ;  and  I  con- 
ceived I  should  gain  no  relief  by  forming  a 
connexion  with  one  in  circumstances  equally 
narrow  as  my  own.  I  considered  my  advance 
unsuitable  to  the  commencement  of  family 
cares,  especially  as  I  had  no  prospect  of  be- 
coming considerable  in  circumstances.  1 
made  it  matter  of  prayer,  that  I  might  be  di- 
rected to  a  suitable  object  by  the  good  hand 
of  Providence,  which  had  hilherto  enabled  me 
to  steer  my  course  prudently.  A  friend,  who 
well  knew  my  sentiments  upon  this  head, 
and  conceived  them  proper,  encouraged  my 
indulging  attention  to  Miss  Brown,  well 
known  to  the  neighbourhood,  whose  respecta- 
ble character  and  conduct  procured  her  uni- 
versal esteem.  He  introduced  me  to  her. 
She  was  supposed  to  be  very  affluent,  from 
the  great  liberality  she  exercised  to  the  poor, 
for  which  she  was  enabled,  rather  from  indus- 
try and  economy,  than  from  patrimony,  or 
from  the  considerable  profits  she  gained  by  a 
small  farm,  which,  in  conjunction  with  her 
youngest  sister,  she  rented  and  superintended. 
When  I  had  been  repeatedly  in  her  company, 
and  was  satisfied  with  her  genuine  piety,  I 
addressed  a  plain  letter  to  her. 

After  some  little  hesitation  and  objection, 
raised  only  from  the  opposition  my  offer  was 
like  to  meet  with  from  a  numerous  family,  I 
found  I  had  firm  ground  upon  which  to  ad- 
vance. The  opposition  arose  from  my  reli- 
gion, and  the  idea  that  I  was  devoid  of  inte- 
grity, and  an  honest  design.  This  idea  no 
encomium  in  my  favour  could  remove.  Some 
little  stratagem  was  used  to  prevent  our 
union,  but  I  went  forward  with  a  fixed  deter- 
mination to  enjoy  my  object,  not  doubting 
that  time  would  produce  a  conviction  which 
testimony  could  not,  and  that  I  should  be  a 
gainer  in  the  end.  Therefore  on  the  20th  of 
April  1779,  we  entered  into  wedlock.  We 
had  previously  considered  that  our  joint  in- 
come, being  about  j£55  per  annum,  would 
not  admit  of  our  living  in  splendour,  and  we 
had  laid  our  plan  answerable  to  our  pittance. 
By  this  we  regulated  our  life,  and  experienced 
the  blessing  of  the  Lord  upon  it.  We  erected 
our  altar  for  sacrifice  as  soon  as  we  came 
from  church,  upon  which  we  then  presented 
our  joint  offering.  We  have  continued  regu- 
larly and  statedly  in  the  presentation,  and 
though  it  has  been  attended  with  all  that 
imperfection  which  has  rendered  it  unworthy 
of  the  notice  of  an  holy  God,  yet,  for  the 
sake  of  his  ever  blessed  Son,  we  have  rea- 
son to  conclude  it  has  met  with  acceptance. 

I  supposed  now,  that  I  had  before  me  my 
only  work  in  which  I  should  be  engaged,  the , 
work  of  the  ministry,  which  I  determined,  in 
the  strength  of  divine  grace,  diligently  to  at- 
tend, and  I  did  not  suppose  my  family  would 
consist  of  a  third  person.  But  God's  thoughts 
and  purposes  were  different  to  my  thoughts 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


■17 


and  expectations,  and  events  occurred  that  set 
me  at  the  head  of  a  large  family  in  a  very 
little  time. 

In  the  days  of  my  itineracy,  I  had  often 
said,  that  if  I  were  ever  settled,  I  would  give 
some  poor  child  a  common  education.  Re- 
collecting my  resolution,  I  fixed  upon  the 
eldest  child  of  our  deacon,  Mr.  John  Sim- 
mons, a  poor,  but  deserving  man ;  I  taught 
him  from  his  alphabet,  till  he  was  made  fit 
for  business,  into  which  I  was  instrumental 
of  introducing  him,  and  in  which  I  believe 
he  is  now  going  on  very  prosperously. 

In  the  first  year  of  my  marriage,  I  had  oc- 
casion to  go  to  Bristol,  and  among  others  I 
called  upon  Mrs.  Higgs,  one  of  my  first  ac- 
quaintance in  the  city.  She  said,  "  I  have 
long  wished  you  settled  for  the  sake  of 
Tommy,"  who  was  the  youngest  of  her  two 
surviving  children,  then  little  more  than  ten 
years  old ;  "I  expect,"  said  she,  "you  will 
now  take  him,"  adding,  "  I  care  not  what 
you  do  with  him,  if  you  will  but  take  him." 
lie  was  a  sweet  amiable  child,  who  had 
enough  in  him  to  attract  my  affection.  I  sig- 
nified my  attachment  to  him,  and  that  I  had 
not  the  least  objection  to  receive  him,  but 
that  I  was  not  sure  Mrs.  Winter  would  ac- 
cept the  offer ;  however,  I  proposed  to  take 
him  upon  a  Christinas  visit,  with  a  design  to 
return  him  again,  if  Mrs.  Winter  would  not 
consent  to  keep  him.  The  dear  little  fellow 
accompanied  me  with  all  readiness.  On  our 
parting,  Mrs.  Higgs  said,  "  I  give  him  to 
you."  I  replied,  "  I  accept  the  gift,"  little 
thinking  what  was  to  be  the  event.  His  en- 
gaging and  open  conversation  every  step  of 
the  way  home,  in  which  he  gave  strong  indi- 
cation of  a  mind  under  some  pious  influence, 
riveted  him  to  me.  Every  friend  I  called 
upon  was  fond  of  him,  and  when  we  came 
home  he  was  universally  noticed  with  es- 
teem. His  pious  disposition,  which  I  certainly 
cherished,  was  improperly  ascribed  to  my 
care  of  him.  This  induced  Mrs.  Turner,  of 
Trowbridge,  to  press  a  favourite  nephew 
upon  me,  whom  I  very  reluctantly  accepted, 
not  because  he  was  unworthy  of  my  esteem, 
but  because  I  feared  to  have  more  of  a  tutor's 
business  in  hand  than  I  was  equal  to.  Mrs. 
Turner  conceived  after  a  while,  her  nephew 
had  caught  the  flame  of  piety  from  my  lamp, 
and  reported  such  high  things  concerning  me 
as  impressed  a  gentleman  of  Bath ;  and  by 
this  I  was  drawn  into  an  extreme  difficulty. 
I  used  every  method  consistent  with  prudence 
to  divert  his  attention  from  me.  We  were 
as  yet  a  little  happy  family  indeed.  The  chil- 
dren loved  our  worship,  had  been  used  to  my 
ministry,  could  be  taken  with  us  on  a  jour- 
ney ;  they  sat  and  sang  comfortably  with  us 
by  our  fire-side,  entertained  us  by  their  prat- 
tle, and  ran  upon  our  little  errands ;  but  by 
taking  the  sons  of  a  gentleman,  I  conceived 
I  should  lake  children  used  to  a  superior  line 


of  life,  rather  unfriendly  to  our  religious 
views,  and  in  other  respects  very  unsuitable 
to  me.  My  intimate  neighbours,  to  whom  I 
had  communicated  the  difficulty  I  was  under 
from  the  gentleman's  unwillingness  to  re- 
ceive my  refusal  of  his  sons,  pressed  me  very 
much  to  increase  my  number  to  six,  observ- 
ing I  should  find  my  account  in  it. 

Had  I  been  convinced  in  my  own  mind 
that  I  should  have  done  right  in  opening  a 
school,  I  could  easily  have  collected  scholars, 
and  by  providing  a  proper  assistant,  should 
have  made  the  business  easy ;  but,  from  the 
small  acquaintance  I  had  with  letters,  and 
the  little  confidence  I  was  inclined  to  place 
in  men,  I  could  not  be  convinced  I  did  right, 
nor  could  I  be  satisfied  that  it  was  prudent 
fully  to  state  the  reason  of  my  refusal.  Com- 
mitting the  event  to  God,  and  blowing  that 
I  designed  his  glory,  I  yielded  to  the  gentle- 
man's motion,  who  fixed  the  day  for  his  two 
sons  being  at  Marlborough.  They  came  ac- 
companied by  the  good  mother,  wfio  was  so 
disgusted  at  the  report  of  my  being-  a  Metho- 
dist, and  by  the  plainness  of  my  accommoda- 
tions, that  she  took  them  back  with  her  im- 
mediately to  Bath,  without  assigning  a  rea- 
son, or  giving  me  an  opportunity  to  exchange 
three  words  with  her.  This  affair  was  at- 
tended with  a  little  shock,  which,  owing  to 
the  shattered  state  of  my  nerves,  I  was  not 
able  to  bear,  and  it  occasioned  my  neighbours, 
who  were  all  out  of  their  doors,  to  conjecture 
the  cause.  But  I  was  soon  reduced  to  a  state 
of  composure,  and  concluded  it  was  the  way 
Providence  used  to  prevent  a  greater  trial. 
In  a  few  weeks  after,  however,  the  young- 
gentlemen  were  brought  back  by  the  good 
lady's  consent,  and  the  connexion  issues  in 
permanent  friendship  with  the  eldest  brother, 
who  hath  given  me  opportunity  to  show  my 
attachment  to  him  for  many  years ;  and  has 
proved  himself  worthy  of  my  most  cordial 
esteem  by  many  pledges  of  his  own  for  me. 
Accidentally  I  have  laid  my  hands  upon  a 
few  lines  accompanied  with  two  handsome 
volumes,  sent  me  by  the  above-mentioned 
young  gentleman,  soon  after  we  parted ; 
which  may  be  considered  as  the  beginning 
of  a  correspondence,  and  I  think  it  a  tri- 
bute of  respect  due  to  him  to  insert  it  here. 

"  Sir, — I  have  not  time  at  present  to  write 
a  letter,  but  only  a  line,  to  inform  you  that 
I  shall  never  forget  the  many  kindnesses  I 
received  while  under  your  care,  and  beg 
your  acceptance  of  the  enclosed  as  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  them." 

It  bears  date  September  1,  1783.  At  my 
request  he  was  then  removed,  but  returned 
to  me  again  by  his  own  earnest  desire.  He 
now  fills  a  benefice  in  the  establishment,  and 
may  he  long  continue  to  fill  it,  and  preach  that 
gospel,  the  truths  of  which  he  acknowledges 
to  have  received  while  at  Marlborough.  You 


48 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


may  conceive  of  his  continued  esteem  by  the 
following  extract  from  one  of  his  letters : 

"  After  a  long  interval  of  silence  but  not 
of  forgetfulness,  I  again  break  in  upon  you — 
forget  you  indeed  I  cannot ;  for  whenever  I 
enter  my  pulpit,  or  sit  down  in  my  study.  I 
find  myself  expressing  ideas  I  have  learned 
from  you,  and  which  bring  with  them  the 
remembrance  of  my  much  respected  friend." 
— Speaking  of  the  liberality  which  should 
subsist  between  the  church  and  the  Dis- 
senters, and  the  true  nature  of  worship,  he 
says,  "  You  know,  and  I  feel  this :  for  from 
you  I  learned  it,  and  now  I  am  often  happy  that 
I  have  passed  a  part  of  my  life  under  your 
roof,  as  it  has  prevented  me  from  imbibing 
many  illiberal  and  unjust  prejudices,  which 
several  both  in  and  out  of  the  establishment 
are  got  to  entertain."  "  I  have  just  atten- 
tively perused  your  letter  again.  Every 
kind  exhortation  that  comes  from  your  pen, 
has  its  full  weight  upon  me,  and  I  hope  God, 
of  his  infinite  goodness,  will  enable  me  to 
follow  it."  The  writer  of  the  above  was 
one  of  twelve,  whom  I  had  together  at  one 
time.  Of  all  of  them,  it  may  be  remarked 
they  were  fine  youths — they  engaged  the 
esteem  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  gained  me 
credit — they  were  as  my  own  children. 
They  enabled  me  to  keep  a  cut  loaf,  and  a 
running  tap  for  the  poor.  If  I  recollect  the 
fatigue,  I  recollect  also  the  pleasure  I  had 
with  them,  when  I  could  keep  them  to  busi- 
ness— when  I  was  witness  to  their  progress 
— when  their  voices  were  engaged  in  the 
praises  of  God — when  their  innocent  conver- 
sation at  the  table  gave  vivacity  to  my  spirits, 
particularly  after  a  third  public  service  on  the 
Lord's-day,  when  they  contributed  to  relieve 
me  from  the  sensibility  of  weariness,  and 
when  dismissing  them  to  their  rest,  I  received 
proof  of  their  affection,  and  embraced  them 
in  my  heart  while  I  pronounced  upon  them 
the  blessing  of  my  lips. 

Mr.  Higgs  was  my  primus.  I  had  la- 
boured to  make  him  useful  to  me,  and  he  was 
essentially  so.  He  grew  in  stature  and  in 
knowledge.  He  was  a  constant,  and  I  be- 
lieve a  willing  attendant  upon  the  means  of 
grace,  and  very  feelingly  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  the  sermons  he  heard.  I  encouraged 
his  views  of  the  ministry,  and  promoted  his 
preparation  for  it,  by  a  liberal  education ; 
consequently,  though  he  was  my  right  hand, 
as  soon  as  I  had  carried  my  exertions  to  the 
uttermost,  I  knew  it  was  my  duty  to  part 
with  him.  But  his  parents  were  not  equal 
to  the  expense,  and  by  the  advice  of  Mrs. 
Verbruggen,  the  lady  who  for  a  time  made 
one  of  our  family,  he  was  sent  to  Lingen,  in 
Westphalia,  from  the  mistaken  notion  that 
his  education  would  be  more  completely 
finished,  and  at  a  far  less  expense  than  at  one 
of  our  universities. 

I  went  with  him  to  London,  and  there  coin 


mended  him  to  God.  It  was  intended  that 
he  should  continue  at  Lingen  two  years ;  but 
after  the  absence  of  little  more  than  half  a 
year,  I  received  him  again.  This  was  owing 
partly  to  disapjxjintmcnt  to  what  was  our 
object ;  but  principally  to  his  own  extreme 
dissatisfaction,  founded  in  causes  of  moral 
and  religious  complaint,  both  in  the  semina- 
rium  and  the  university:  nothing  could  be 
more  licentious  than  the  habits  of  the  stu- 
dents, while  a  dreadful  dearth  of  every  thing 
good  prevailed.  Previously  to  his  return, 
which  was  October  the  30tb,  1786,  I  had 
been  diligent  in  securing  him  clerical  friend- 
ship, to  enable  him,  in  proper  tune,  to  enter 
the  establishment,  to  which  his  turn  of  mind 
led  him.  I  thought  I  could  do  him  service 
by  introducing  him  to  my  highly  respected 
friend,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Spencer,  of  Wingfield. 
He  kindly  acceded  to  my  motion,  and  made 
him  upon  very  easy  terms,  pro  tempore,  one 
of  his  family.  There,  and  at  Marlborough, 
he  spent  his  time  till  he  entered  Oxford, 
which  was  the  close  of  the  long  vacation, 
1787. 

How  wonderful  are  the  ways  of  Providence. 
That  all  the  mortal  part  of  the  dear  youth, 
with  whom  so  many  pains  had  been  taken, 
should  have  been  in  the  silent  grave  at  a 
time  when  we  expected  he  would  have  been 
in  the  full  vigour  of  life,  proclaiming  the 
truths  of  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God,  is 
one  among  the  many  mysterious  events  that 
call  for  submission.  It  is  with  peculiar  satis- 
faction I  reflect  that  you,  my  dear  friend,  are 
continued  a  blessing  to  a  part,  a  large  part 
of  the  church  of  Christ. — I  am,  yours,  &c. 


LETTER  XVI. 

My  very  dear  friend, — If  sloth  in  any 
department  of  life  be  a  blemish  to  a  character, 
it  must  be  a  very  dreadful  one  in  that  of  a 
minister ;  but  a  minister  may  be  free  from 
the  charge  of  sloth,  and  yet  not  perfectly 
busy.  To  spend  the  hours  and  days  in  com- 
posing a  few  sermons,  smooth  and  elegant  to 
the  ear,  which  should  be  employed  in  preach- 
ing many  with  energy  to  the  heart,  is  a 
waste  of  time.  Of  many  good  men  it  may  be 
said  they  are  "  laboriously  doing  nothing :" 
whereas  if  they  would  study  usefulness,  they 
would  give  many  of  these  moments  to  public 
labour,  that  are  now  devoted  to  unnecessary 
exactness.  The  thought  applies  to  country 
ministers  who  are  surrounded  with  villages, 
but  communicate  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of 
God  to  none  of  them.  When  there  are  real 
and  insurmountable  impediments  to  exertion, 
a  man  is  free  from  the  reflection ;  but  if  circum- 
stances and  situation  favour  diligence,  and  a 
man  is  not  diligent,  he  is  inattentive  to  the 
direction,  "  work  while  it  is  called  to-day." 
Village  preaching  is  of  importance  to  useful- 


HIS  OWN 

ness.  I  am  glad  such  powerful  efforts  are 
now  used  to  support  it.  To  carry  it  on,  was 
always  an  object  with  me.  1  diligently 
attended  to  it  while  I  was  at  Marlborough, 
but  my  attention  to  the  school,  and  the  studies 
to  which  I  was  obliged  to  turn  my  mind,  in 
order  to  discharge  my  duty  in  it,  relaxed  my 
attention  to  this  important  object.  I  there- 
fore wished  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  support  a 
young  man  of  pious  character,  and  of  improva- 
ble gifts,  who  might  receive  my  communica- 
tions, and  by  preaching  in  the  villages,  habitu- 
ate himself  to  free  speaking.  Though  the  idea 
of  such  a  person  was  in  my  mind,  I  knew 
not  where  to  look  for  him,  and  if  I  had  met 
with  him,  I  was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  I 
should  support  him. 

Mr.  Surman,  an  excellent  youth  in  humble 
life,  always  engaged  my  notice  when  I 
preached  at  Dursley  ;  and  I  seldom  left  the 
congregation  without  exchanging  a  word  with 
him  ;  but  as  I  hardly  ever  had  time  upon  my 
hand,  we  did  not  abound  in  conversation. 
Being  upon  a  visit  in  Gloucestershire,  in  the 
Midsummer  of  1782,  and  having  appointed  on 
a  Lord's-day  to  preach  at  Frampton,  entering 
the  court,  I  unexpectedly  saw  him.  Instant- 
ly I  had  an  impression  for  which  I  cannot  ac- 
count, that  I  must  take  him  to  impart  instruc- 
tion to  him,  and  to  introduce  him  into  the 
ministry.  I  desired  him  to  meet  me  in  my 
retirement ;  I  was  under  such  a  fever  that  I 
suspected  at  the  same  time  I  should  be  laid 
aside.  I  begged  him  to  read  the  Scriptures 
to  me,  by  which  I  found  his  deficiency.  I 
asked  him  if  ever  he  thought  of  the  ministry. 
He  replied,  he  had ;  but  could  not  indulge  it, 
as  he  concluded  there  was  no  opening  in  Pro- 
vidence. I  proposed  his  coming  to  me  under 
certain  terms,  which  he  approved  of,  if  he 
saw,  on  prayer  and  deliberate  consideration, 
it  was  the  Divine  will.  When  his  mind  was 
fully  satisfied,  he  acceded  to  my  motion,  set- 
tled his  alliiirs  with  great  integrity,  and  gave 
himself  first  to  the  Lord,  and  then  to  me. 
Surely  I  may  venture  to  call  that  an  act  of 
faith,  which  was  engaged  in  under  what  I 
conceive  to  have  been  a  divine  impression; 
and  for  the  prosecution  of  which  I  had  no 
prospect  of  support.  The  event  has  shown  it 
was  of  the  Lord.  Mr.  Surman  soon  proved  a 
very  acceptable  and  useful  minister,  and  a 
very  consistent  character.  For  the  sake  only 
of  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  learn  the 
world,  I  sent  him  upon  a  pleasurable  excur- 
sion to  London,  where  his  preaching  gained 
such  attention,  that  in  less  than  three  years 
after  he  came  to  me,  he  was  providentially 
taken  from  me,  and  yet  lives  a  blessing  to  the 
church  at  large,  and  to  a  particular  society, 
more  immediately,  at  Chesham  in  Bucks, 
over  which  he  was  ordained  pastor.  May 
his  life  and  usefulness  be  prolonged. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Surman  came  to  me,  Mr. 
Yockney,  of  Warminster,  signified  his  desire 
G  5 


ACCOUNT.  49 

to  retreat  from  secular  life,  to  devote  himself 
to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel.  He  was  al- 
ready blessed  with  rich  experience,  and  of  de- 
cent education.  Given  up  to  God,  and  fond 
of  retirement,  he  made  the  best  use  of  a  little 
time,  and  by  his  assiduity  in  my  absence,  I  was 
released  of  anxiety  about  the  school,  as  the  best 
care  was  taken  to  keep  my  little  folks  to  bu- 
siness, and  the  devotions  of  the  family,  by  these 
two  good  men,  and  Mr.  Higgs,  were  regularly 
carried  on.  As  Mr.  Yockney  purposed  paying 
for  his  board,  I  had  no  difficulty  about  accept- 
ing him.  He  was  happy  and  useful  with  me, 
till  removed  by  Providence,  and  soon  after 
obtained  a  settlement  at  Staines,  in  Middle- 
sex, where  abundant  honour  continues  to  be 
put  upon  his  ministry. 

It  was  at  this  time  our  services  were  requir- 
ed, and  freely  given  in  the  village  of  Tisbury, 
that  gave  you  birth.  Several  months  pre- 
viously to  the  2d  of  April,  1785,  my  eye  was 
upon  you,  my  dear  friend,  more  immediately 
than  upon  any  other  in  the  congregation,  and 
my  heart  knit  unaccountably  to  you.  Making 
inquiry  concerning  you  of  Mrs.  Turner,  she 
mentioned  your  name  with  the  anecdote  which 
distinguishes  you  in  her  life.  I  told  her  I  was 
impressed  with  an  idea  that  I  should  one  day 
have  you  under  my  roof.  You  having  perfect 
understanding  of  all  things  from  the  very  be- 
ginning, can  trace  the  occurrences  of  this 
period  respecting  yourself  You  recollect 
the  number  and  the  order  of  our  family,  and 
the  worthy  female  friends  which  made  part 
of  it.  How  applicable  to  the  description  of 
our  happiness  and  harmony  is  this  stanza : 

The  day  glides  swiftly  o'er  their  head 
Made  up  of  innocence  and  love  ; 

And  soft  and  silent  as  the  shade 
Their  nightly  minutes  gently  move. 

To  all  that  was  kind  and  amiable  in  you,  my 
dear  friend,  under  God,  we  were,  in  part,  in- 
debted for  that  happiness.  You  contributed 
your  quota  to  it,  and  had  your  share  in  return. 
— O  blessed  villages  which  were  favoured 
with  your  respective  ministerial  abilities.  O 
highly  favoured  Marlborough,  whose  streets 
were  then  occasionally  thronged  with  them, 
who  went  to  and  from  the  house  of  God,  and 
had  their  hearts  filled  with  joy  and  gladness. 
I  bless  the  Lord  for  all  that  he  since  has  done 
for  you,  and  by  you. 

Mr.  Spicer  must  not  be  forgotten.  He 
came  at  the  desire  of  his  uncle  into  our  fami- 
ly, and  is  worthy  to  be  had  in  remembrance, 
though  after  a  long  and  fair  trial  it  was  found, 
that  large  as  his  capacity  was,  his  want  of 
elocution  prevented  his  acceptance.  He 
stands  high  in  my  esteem,  and  is,  I  believe, 
the  beloved  of  the  Lord. 

The  editors  of  the  Evangelical  Magazine, 
Vol.  v.  page  47,  have  given  the  life  of  Mr. 
William  Griffin — a  truly  valuable  life,  and 
with  this  concise  and  general  testimony,  I 
refer  to  his  biography.    Besides  our  stated 


so 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


times  of  devotion,  our  breakfast  and  tea  read- 
ings were  considerable,  nor  were  we  want- 
ing in  recreative  conversation.  To  rise  early 
and  retire  early,  was  one  of  our  maxims.  Our 
partings  and  meetings  proved  we  were  in 
the  bonds  of  friendship.  The  Lord  made  us 
to  be  of  one  mind.  But  we  became  scattered 
in  time;  and  the  weight  of  the  school  resting 
entirely  upon  me,  from  a  necessary  regard 
to  my  health,  which  was  much  impaired,  I 
became  determined  to  break  it  up. 

About  this  time  my  affairs  began  to  wear  a 
different  aspect  to  what  they  had  done,  and  a 
variety  of  occurrences  disposed  me  to  think 
of  leaving  Marlborough.  I  soon  began  to 
feel  that  in  giving  up  my  school,  I  had  given 
up  such  a  measure  of  my  substance,  that  my 
circumstances  were  in  danger  of  being  in- 
volved. I  was  quite  at  a  loss  for  a  while  to 
determine  what  to  do.  I  had  devised  many 
things,  but  could  bring  none  of  them  to  bear. 
I  felt  reluctant  at  leaving  the  place  where  I 
had  laboured  hard.  The  neighbourhood  at 
this  time  was  reconciled  to  me,  but  not  to  my 
ministry.  My  sole  success  had  been  with  the 
poor.  A  most  dreadful  failure  had  turned 
out,  which  had  ruined  one  of  the  principal 
families  who  attended  my  preaching.  By  in- 
terfering to  prevent  a  marriage  which  I  con- 
ceived would  prove  injurious  to  the  parties,  I 
had  made  an  enemy  of  one  of  my  first  profess- 
ing friends;  and  a  circumstance  in  addition  to 
the  whole,  turned  up  to  convince  me  I  must 
remove.  The  meeting-house  was  the  private 
property  of  Mr.  H  k,  from  whom  I  re- 
ceived jEIO  out  of  the  <£30  per  annum,  for 
which  I  stipulated.  He  was  very  rapidly 
going  to  the  grave.  His  sons  were  by  no 
means  likeminded  with  him.  The  eldest  of 
them  continued  his  attendance  upon  the  word 
in  general.  Having  one  Sabbath-day  even- 
ing a  very  crowded  congregation,  as  I  usually 
had,  and  knowing  the  dissipated  state  and 
disposition  of  many  of  the  young  people,  I 
preached  a  very  plain,  faithful  sermon.  It 

was  certainly  all  applicable  to  Mr.  H  k ; 

but  I  did  not  think  of  him,  nor  did  I  know  he 
was  there.  However  he  considered  it  as  a 
personal  address  to  himself,  and  protested, 
when  he  went  out  he  would  never  hear  me 
again.  I  saw  that  I  must  soon  decamp,  or 
sink  into  a  most  uncomfortable  situation.  I 
had  an  attachment  to  Devizes,  and  supposed 
Mr.  Sloper,  who  knew  it,  would  have  been 
disposed  to  keep  me  in  Wilts,  the  state  of  his 
health  requiring  assistance,  for  which  his 
people  were  able  and  willing  to  provide.  I 
had  been  in  long  friendship  with  him,  had 
shown  him  sympathy,  and  rendered  him  help, 
under  many  of  his  domestic  and  church  trials. 
A  friend  from  Gloucester  had  been  with  me, 
to  whom  I  freely  communicated  my  difficul- 
ties. He  gave  me  encouragement  to  make 
an  offer  of  my  services  to  the  church  and 
congregation  at  Painswick,  in  the  county  of 


Gloucester.  This  was  a  county  to  which  I 
was  partial,  but  I  held  myself  bound  by  the 
fidelity  of  friendship  to  Mr.  Sloper,  not  to 
take  a  step  without  first  consulting  him.  He 
signified  he  could  not  advise  me  what  I  should 
do,  and  referred  me  to  the  leadings  of  Provi- 
dence. I  was  then  in  a  disabled  state,  under 
a  fit  of  the  gout.  I  wrote  to  my  friend  in 
Gloucester,  to  say  that  if  the  church  at  Tains- 
wick  were  disposed  to  give  me  encourage- 
ment, I  had  no  objection  to  put  myself  in  the 
way  of  their  notice.  I  had  given  warning 
to  quit  my  house,  without  knowing  whither 
I  was  to  go — at  that  juncture  of  time  the 
congregation  at  Painswick  were  so  disunited 
in  their  sentiments  of  a  gentleman  wfio  stood 
candidate  for  their  service,  that  he  withdrew 
his  motion,  and  on  the  mention  of  my  name, 
they  unanimously  agreed  to  accept  me.  An 
occurrence  of  Providence  that  much  impress- 
ed my  mind  was  this:  Mr.  Edwards,  of  Strat- 
ford-upon-Avon, being  about  to  leave  his  peo- 
ple, and  going  upon  a  probationary  visit  to 
Wilton,  pressed  me  to  pay  a  visit  to  Stratford. 
I  engaged,  on  my  return,  to  preach  at  Pains- 
wick, and  while  upon  my  journey  wrote  to 
Mr.  Hancock,  signifying  my  design  of  leav- 
ing Marlborough,  stating  my  reasons,  and 
appealing  to  him  for  the  propriety  of  my  con- 
duct. But  before  my  letters  could  reach  his 
house,  he  was  almost  suddenly  removed  into 
the  eternal  world.  This  information  reaching 
me  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Higgs,  threw  light  upon 
my  steps.  The  house,  which  during  my  resi- 
dence in  Marlborough  had  been  always  open 
to  me,  and  from  whence  many  favours  had 
been  communicated,  was  on  the  father's  death 
instantly  shut  against  me  by  the  heir ;  nor 
would  he  permit  me,  though  invited  by  the 
rest  of  the  family,  to  accompany  the  remains 
of  his  father  to  the  tomb. 

The  long  acquaintance  the  people  at  Pains- 
wick had  with  me,  and  my  preaching  being 
so  fully  known  by  them,  made  them  indiffer- 
ent to  a  probationary  visit:  though,  strange 
to  tell,  for  a  faithful  hint,  misunderstood  and 
misapplied  by  a  ruling  elder,  I  had  been  ex- 
cluded from  the  same  pulpit  seventeen  years ! 
The  good  old  man,  whose  authority  barred 
me  out,  has  ever  since  our  connexion  been  a 
staunch  friend,  and  we  have  lived  together 
in  the  strictest  amity.  He  had  long  held  the 
reins  of  government  in  the  church,  and  was 
strongly  prejudiced  against  Methodists,  of 
which  description  he  had  considered  me.  He 
had  been  mortified  by  contradiction;  but 
amidst  all  his  prejudice  was  of  too  great  in- 
tegrity to  indulge  war,  and  experience  has 
taught  me,  he  was  to  be  won  by  prudence 
and  patience. 

As  soon  and  as  quietly  as  I  could,  I  disen- 
gaged myself  from  Marlborough,  but  with 
vast  pain  of  mind  when  the  crisis  came.  I 
had  some  distress  on  Mrs.  Winter's  account, 
who  had  never  before  left  the  vicinity  of  her 


HIS  OWN  ACCOUNT. 


51 


birthplace,  and  by  the  change  of  her  situation, 
was  withdrawn  from  a  circle  of  affectionate 
relations,  particularly  from  her  sisters.  Yet 
I  had  reason  to  be  thankful  on  perceiving  her 
strive  so  magnanimously  against  her  feelings, 
and  on  her  complying  so  readily  witli  the 
motion  of  Providence.    On  balancing  my  ac- 
counts, I  found  myself  in  arrears,  and  my 
removal  was  attended  with  an  expense  consi- 
derably above  what  was  allowed  me.    A  de- 
plorable disaster  attended  my  goods  in  remo- 
val ;  but  the  combined  trials  were  attended 
with  a  combination  of  suitable  mercies,  on 
the  review  of  which  fresh  gratitude  arises  in 
my  mind.    A  disposition  to  trust  in  the  Lord 
was  granted  me  at  the  time,  and  I  knew  by 
experience  the  import  of  those  words,  "  Thou 
wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose  mind 
is  stayed  on  thee."    I  had  just  succeeded 
in  procuring  Mr.  Higgs  his  college  subsist- 
ence.   It  being  the  time  of  his  long  vacation, 
he  was  with  me,  and  was  very  useful  in  as- 
sisting our  removal.    By  visits  to  his  school- 
mate, Mr.  Horlick,  he  well  knew  Painswick; 
came  a  little  before  us  with  Mr.  Spicer;  and 
on  the  2d  of  August,  1788,  received  us  on  the 
spot  where  I  am  now  writing.    It  is  a  farm, 
the  property  of  Mr.  King,  to  whom  I  have 
above  referred.    It  is  beautiful  for  situation. 
It  is  half  a  mile  on  the  north  of  Painswick, 
and  six  miles  south-east  of  Gloucester.  It  was 
offered  me  as  a  temporary  accommodation ; 
but  I  told  my  friends  if  they  could  make  it 
convenient  to  let  me  dwell  by  them,  I  would 
seek  no  other.    In  an  habitation  at  one  end 
of  the  farm-house,  the  dimension  of  the  prin- 
cipal room  of  which  is  thirteen  feet  in  width, 
fifteen  in  breadth,  and  six  feet  eight  inches 
and  a  quarter  in  height,  I  lose  sight  and  sense 
of  every  inconvenience,  as  happy  as  I  can  be 
in  this  mortal  state,  in  the  advantage  of 
peace,  fresh  air,  and  retirement.   Mr.  Higgs 
says  to  his  brother,  in  a  letter  soon  after  our 
settlement,  "  I  am  charmed  with  the  solitude 
of  Mr.  Winter's  situation.  I  see  nobody  here 
but  the  family ;  I  have  no  companion  but  my 
books.  I  cannot  describe  how  happy  we  are." 
Little  did  he  think  he  was  to  be  gratified,  and 
that  so  soon,  when,  with  his  pencil,  he  wrote 
upon  the  wall  of  the  room  where  he  slept 
and  studied, 

"  Hie  ipso  tecum  consumerer  revo." 

I  perceived  no  indisposition  upon  him,  till  a 
little  before  he  returned  to  college.  The 
day  he  left  us  to  enter  upon  his  term,  he  was 
not  quite  well,  nor  alarmingly  ill.  I  have  no 
letter  by  me  that  I  can  find,  previous  to  the 
29th  of  October,  informing  me  of  the  increase 
of  his  indisposition;  but  in  consequence  of 

information  from  Miss  W  e,  his  elect, 

of  his  being  indisposed,  I  wrote  to  him. 

"  My  dear  Thomas, — It  has  given  us  no 
small  concern  to  hear,  by  letter  received  on 
Saturday  from  Miss  W  e,  of  your  in- 


disposition. It  would  have  less  surprised  me, 
if  I  had  not  previously  heard  on  Monday,  that 
the  disorder  in  the  head  and  eyes  prevails 
very  much.    Yet  that  does  not  alleviate  my 
fear  from  the  fits  returning  upon  you,  as  I 
find  you  have  had  them  more  than  once.  I 
have  been  led  to  account  for  it  from  some 
shock  you  received  in  Bristol,  from  your  fa- 
ther's situation,  and  other  family  occurrences. 
I  may  be  out  in  my  conjecture.   If  I  am  not, 
I  would  request  you  not  to  dispirit  yourself. 
It  would  hardly  be  right  to  desire  you  not  to 
feel  the  loss  of  a  parent,  supposing  I  could 
regulate  your  passions  :  but  any  little  disap- 
pointment that  may  attend,  of  a  pecuniary 
nature,  need  not  discourage  you,  as  no  doubt 
but  the  resources  which  close  at  home,  will 
open  abroad.    If  you  are  in  God's  way  he 
will  provide,  and  bring  you  through  the  dif- 
ficulties of  college  expenses.    While  you 
perform  the  part  of  a  faithful  steward  with  the 
pittance  you  have,  more  shall  be  given  you 
as  it  is  needful.    Let  us  know  as  soon  as  you 
can,  how  you  do,  and  write  freely  of  all  that 
is  upon  your  mind.    No  more  of  your  letters 
shall  transpire  than  may  be  necessary  to  give 
your  friends  pleasure ;  to  hear  from  you,  is 
gratifying  to  us  all  on  this  peaceful  spot.  I 
hope  by  this  time  you  are  restored  to  the  use 
of  your  sight,  as  well  as  to  your  former  de- 
gree of  strength.    It  is  a  loud  speaking  Pro- 
vidence to  be  so  afflicted,  and  I  am  persuaded 
you  are  disposed  to  improve  it.    Since  we 
hold  every  faculty  upon  such  uncertain  terms, 
how  careful  should  we  be  to  improve  them  to 
his  glory,  who  gives  them  freely,  and  can 
deprive  us  of  them  at  a  moment's  warning, 
or  even  without  warning  at  all.    Let  your 
attention  in  future  be  much  employed  in  the 
Scriptures.  Transcribe  them  from  the  leaves 
on  which  they  lie  open  to  the  eye,  into  the 
book  of  your  heart.  You  will  find  your  want 
of  them  for  your  own  personal  comfort,  and 
for  your  ministerial  furniture,  if  you  mean  to 
work  upon  your  own  stock ;  that  is,  if  by 
meditation,  and  not  by  plagiarism,  you  pre- 
pare for  the  pulpit." 

I  might  have  spared  my  advice  for  the  pul- 
pit employ.  He  was  worse  than  I  appre- 
hended. A  gentleman  of  his  hall  became  his 
amanuensis,  and  in  his  name  writes  thus,  in 
reply  to  the  last  extract : — "  Since  the  re- 
ception of  yours,  I  have  been  so  indisposed, 
as  not  only  to  be  unable  to  write,  but  even  to 
dictate  a  letter. — My  disorder  is  considerably 
increased. — On  Monday  last  I  had  four  epi- 
leptic fits,  which  have  left  behind  them  a  very 
nervous  affection.  I  sometimes  begin  to 
think  that  Providence  intends  to  cut  my 
work  short  here,  and  to  take  me  from  this 
world  of  misery.  Patience  must  have  its 
perfect  exercise,  and  I  desire  complete  resig- 
nation to  the  Divine  will.  It  certainly  is  a 
great  affliction  to  be  deprived  of  the  amuse- 
ment which  reading  affords.    Oh  that  I  had 


52 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


used  my  time  better  when  I  had  it  in  my 
power.  One  of  the  most  disagreeable  symp- 
toms of  my  disorder  is  a  palpitation  of  heart, 
from  which  I  am  scarcely  ever  free.  The 
happy  time  will  come  when  it  shall  cease  its 
th robbings.  As  soon  as  I  have  kept  my  term, 
which  will  be  next  Monday  week,  I  intend 
going  to  Bristol,  and  to  put  myself  under  the 

care  of  Dr.  Ludlow.    Miss  W  e  will 

accompany  me  to  Bristol,  and  if  I  recover  my 
strength,  we  intend  coming  together  into 
Gloucestershire." 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1789,  I  received 
the  last  letter  he  ever  dictated. 

"  Honoured  and  dear  sir,  You  will 

perceive  that  I  am  yet  unable  to  write,  and 
when  I  shall  be  able  is  very  uncertain  indeed. 
We  have  been  long  expecting  you  in  Bristol, 
but  imagined  the  rough  weather,  or  some  un- 
foreseen circumstance  prevented  you.  No 
friend  ever  comes  more  grateful  to  our  fami- 
ly, but  more  particularly  to  me.    As  I  am 
sometimes  ready  to  imagine  I  shall  need  lit- 
tle more  of  your  kindness,  I  have  reflected  a 
good  deal  upon  the  abundant  measure  I  have 
already  received.    I  hoped  Providence  would 
have  afforded  me  opportunities  of  showing  my 
grateful  sense  of  them :  if  it  should  not,  be 
assured  they  were  not  lost  upon  me.  My 
whole  frame  is  much  out  of  order,  my  eyes 
very  little,  if  any,  better  since  you  heard  from 
us  last;  I  dare  say  you  will  think  my  situa- 
tion very  melancholy.    Confined  to  my  fire- 
side ever  since  the  Christmas  week,  with  my 
eyes  so  dim  that  I  am  unable  to  read,  or 
write,  or  see  any  thing  distinctly ;  a  painful 
seton  in  my  neck,  my  mouth  much  affected 
with  the  mercury  I  have  taken,  and  my  legs 
swelled  for  want  of  exercise.  You  will  think 
my  case  very  hard,  and  be  ready  to  condole 
with  me. — But  spare  your  pains,  my  dear 
sir,  I  grieve  not  for  myself,  I  have  not  an  un- 
easy thought.    The  reflection,  that  it  is  not 
a  thousandth  part  of  what  I  deserve,  makes 
me  resigned  to  the   dispensation,  though 
gloomy,  and  I  adore  the  divine  mercy,  in  pre- 
serving me  from  the  pains  of  hell.   The  phy- 
sician has  just  been  here,  and  has  ordered 
another  seton  to  be  cut  in  my  temple  to-mor- 
row ;  it  is  a  painful  operation,  but  it  is  of  the 
Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good. 
— If  we  meet  not  again  here,  I  hope  we  shall 
in  a  better  world,  where  separation  will  no 
more  take  place. — I  remain,  dear  sir,  yours, 
affectionately,         THOMAS  HIGGS." 

On  the  receipt  of  the  above,  I  went  to 
Bristol,  and  found  him  as  he  described  him- 
self, with  other  serious  symptoms  upon  him. 
He  seemed  very  desirous  to  come  to  Pains- 
wick,  and  with  difficulty  affected  the  jour- 
ney, in  the  beginning  of  February.    I  sent 

for  Miss  W  e,  also,  which  was  a 

great  gratification  to  him.  She  nursed  him 
with  great  tenderness  and  modesty,  and  was 


a  painful  witness  to  his  drawing  his  last 
breath.  He  was  frequently  very  cheerful — 
but  not  very  communicative.  He  engaged 
sometimes  in  family  prayer;  and  when  his 
pains  were  not  severe,  was  very  attentive  to 
any  one  who  read  to  him.  In  the  evening 
previous  to  dissolution,  he  exclaimed  with  an 
innocent  soft  accent,  rather  as  surprised  than 
terrified,  "  Oh  dear  !  I  have  entirely  lost  the 
use  of  my  limbs."  Finding  he  could  enjoy 
the  recumbent  posture  on  neither  side,  I  fixed 
myself  on  the  bolster,  and  supported  mm  be- 
tween my  knees  in  my  arms.  It  pleased  him, 
and  now  and  then  we  exchanged  a  word. 
Grateful  acknowledgments  frequently  pro- 
ceeded from  him  for  kindness  received.  Soon 
after  he  said,  "  Oh  dear,  I  am  going !"  and 
without  a  struggle  he  instantly  became  a 
corpse. 

It  has  been  asserted  that  a  stranger  cannot 
feel  like  a  parent,  but  I  deny  the  assertion. 
Oh,  how  did  I  feel  when  I  relieved  my  arms 
from  the  dear  youth,  who  knew  no  more  of 
an  uneasy  posture !  Before  that  decisive 
moment  how  many  anxious  fears  filled  my 
breast,  lest  his  mind  should  be  beguiled.  How 
earnest  were  my  exertions  to  preserve  that 
spark  alive,  that  I  was  desirous  to  see  advance 
to  a  flame.  Disappointed  in  my  expectation, 
I  was  ready  to  say,  I  have  laboured  in  vain, 
and  spent  my  strength  for  nought,  and  in 
vain.  But  reflection  corrects  the  conclusion. 
Oh  no,  it  was  not  in  vain.  He  is  not  a  mi- 
nister in  the  church,  but  he  is  a  saint  in  light. 
—  He  was  exceedingly  beloved  by  his  associ- 
ates at  Edmund-hall.  A  circle  of  them,  with 
whom  I  breakfasted,  told  me  in  his  absence 
he  was  an  honour  to  their  society.  His  tutor, 
in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  me,  in  return  to  that 
wherein  I  announced  his  death,  says,  "  I 
sympathise  with  you  very  sincerely  on  the 
loss  of  this  amiable  youth,  whose  good  exam- 
ple in  our  society,  will  long  be  remembered 
with  pleasure  and  sorrow.  From  the  little 
probability  of  his  restoration  to  useful  life,  I 
consider  his  removal  from  this  state  of  suffer- 
ing, as  an  instance  of  that  mercy,  on  which 
he  was  enabled  to  build  his  hopes.  The  will 
of  the  Lord  has  been  done  by  him  ;  however 
the  fond  expectation  of  short-sighted  men 
have  been  frustrated,  I  am  persuaded  he  has 
not  lived  in  vain." 

In  all  this  you  have  an  opportunity  to  re- 
view the  life  of  him,  whom  divine  sovereignty 
saw  fit  to  cut  off  in  the  flower  of  his  days — 
you  are  spared,  and  long  may  you  be  spared 
if  it  be  God's  blessed  will,  after  the  hand  that 
guides  this  pen  can  no  more  admit  of  my  sub- 
scribing myself,  my  very  dear  friend,  yours, 
affectionately,  &c. 

.     LETTER  XVII. 
My  very  dear  friend, — I  have  brought 
you  within  a  very  few  paces  of  my  progress, 


HIS  OWN 

and  if,  in  traveling  through  the  former  pages, 
you  find  it  tedious,  you  may  now  proceed 
with  pleasure  from  the  idea,  that  after  a  very 
few  steps  more,  you  will  have  a  long  halt. 
You  have  frequently,  yet  not  so  often  as  I 
could  wish,  seen  me  in  my  cottage  of  content, 
where  my  motto  would  be,  if  I  were  to  put 
it  over  my  door,  "  Parua  parvum  decent." 
But  as  I  came  to  Pains  wick,  not  to  please  my- 
self, but  to  finish  the  work  my  heavenly  Fa- 
ther gave  me  to  do,  I  proceeded  according  to 
the  opening  of  Providence.  At  my  first  com- 
ing, I  collected  a  class  of  children  and  young 
people,  among  whom  I  opened  catechetical 
lectures.  I  was  not  contented  with  exact  an- 
swers to  the  questions  of  a  prescribed  formu- 
lary ;  but  I  wanted  to  prove  the  attention  and 
the  genius  of  the  children,  and  to  discover  if 
there  were  any  principles  of  grace,  that,  un- 
der proper  nurture,  would  appear  to  advan- 
tage. As  well,  therefore,  as  hear  them  the 
Assembly's  catechism,  I  asked  them  ques- 
tions extempore,  and  often  received  such  per- 
tinent and  significant  answers,  as  rejoiced 
my  heart.  By  this  means  I  singled  out  se- 
veral, of  which  number  was  Mr.  Wood,  who 
while  in  a  course  of  education  for  the  minis- 
try, died  with  me,  and  of  whom  there  is  a 
short  account  in  the  Evangelical  Magazine, 
vol.  ii.  page  207 : — Mr.  Hogg,  of  truly  amia- 
ble disposition,  and  who  is  now  just  entering 
the  establishment : — Mr.  Clift,  of  Frome,  who 
with  an  improved  understanding,  started 
early,  and  has  hitherto  worn  well.  About 
the  same  time  I  received  from  the  Devizes, 
Mr.  Sloper,  now  useful  and  happy  at  Ply- 
mouth. I  was  uncertain  of  help,  but  confi- 
dent it  would  be  granted,  as  there  was  occa- 
sion for  it.  Mr.  Welch,  by  your  motion,  in- 
trusting me  with  the  care  of  three  students 
upon  his  own  foundation,  I  placed  Mr.  Clift 
and  Mr.  Wood  upon  it,  and  applied  to  Mr. 
Golding,  late  of  Croydon,  to  come  as  the 
third.  Blessed  be  God  I  have  lately  been 
witness  to  his  growth,  and  perceive  he  is 
ripening  in  his  gifts  and  in  his  grace.  By  the 
motion  of  the  late  Mr.  Thornton,  I  took  Mr. 
Griffin,  who  with  the  greatest  credit  passed 
his  three  years  with  me,  in  diligence  and  use- 
fulness ;  and  is  well  known  for  the  very  re- 
spectable and  useful  manner  in  which  he  ac- 
quits himself  in  the  pastoral  charge  at  Port- 
sea,  Hants.  I  might  mention  Mr.  Underhill, 
who  was  determined  to  be  witli  me  almost 
upon  any  terms;  but  alas  !  though  he  did  run 
well,  he  is  hindered,  and  he  is  the  only  one 
of  all  the  sons  I  have  brought  up,  in  whom  I 
cannot  rejoice.  Disengaged  in  the  order  of 
time  from  these,  I  thought,  now  I  could  do  no 
more  to  serve  the  church  of  Christ  in  this 
way,  and  proceeded  to  accommodate  myself 
to  the  retirement  of  the  study,  and  the  exer- 
tions of  the  pulpit,  till  my  mind  received  a 
farther  impression  in  favour  of  Mr.  Richard- 
son, who  is  my  faithful  Achates.  He  is  the 
5* 


ACCOUNT.  53 

fruit  of  my  ministry,  endeared  by  his  steady 
and  uniform  deportment.  It  was  with  more 
than  former  caution,  I  watched  to  be  satisfied 
that  it  was  right  to  call  him  from  tools  to 
books;  but  when  fully  satisfied,  1  proceeded 
upon  the  old  plan;  he  is  now  with  me,  as  a 
son  with  a  father,  and  it  appears  as  though 
our  separation  will  not  produce  a  distance  of 
more  than  thirteen  miles.  His  gifts  have 
made  him  an  object  to  the  people  of  Framp- 
ton,  with  whom  I  think  he  will  settle  and  be 
happy. 

In  the  complete  eleven  years  which  have 
revolved  over  me  since  I  have  been  here,  I 
have  met  with  little  in  my  pastoral  connex- 
ion to  disturb  or  afflict  me.  Family  differ- 
ences, personal  prejudice,  and  some  instances 
of  immorality,  have  proved  a  source  of  afflic- 
tion ;  but  these  and  a  few  other  proofs  of  human 
imperfections  excepted,  I  am  surrounded  with 
a  poor,  simple,  pious,  affectionate  people,  who 
contribute  willingly,  though  slenderly,  accord- 
ing to  their  ability,  to  my  subsistence;  and 
for  whom  I  will  very  gladly  spend,  and  be 
spent. 

I  have  more  reason  to  be  thankful  for,  than 
to  complain  of  the  attention  shown  to  my  mi- 
nistry. Though  death  and  incidents  conti- 
nually occur  to  produce  changes  in  our  con- 
gregation, it  continues  respectable  for  num- 
ber. The  inhabitants  of  the  town  have  their 
strong  prejudices  against  the  system  I  hold 
myself  bound  to  support ;  and  the  preaching 
of  it  out  of  the  church,  renders  it  additionally 
obnoxious.  Yet  they  show  respect  to  my  per- 
son. I  am  indeed  in  a  station  of  mercy, 
which  I  have  no  disposition  to  exchange  for 
another.  I  have  my  times  of  refreshing  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,  in  the  congregation, 
in  the  family,  and  in  the  study.  No  one  can 
conceive,  after  a  third  service  on  the  Lord's 
day,  my  mind  having  been  free  in  my  work, 
and  having  had  reason  to  conclude  the  word 
has  been  made  a  blessing,  with  what  joy  and 
tranquillity  of  mind  I  return  to  my  mansion  in 
miniature.  It  affords  me  all  I  want  till  I  get 
where  there  are  rivers  of  pleasure. — I  realize 
a  few  lines  I  have  met  with  in  Pope,  and 
which  1  a  little  alter,  for  the  sake  of  express- 
ing what  for  full  eleven  years  I  have  en- 
joyed. 

"  Here  humble  joys  of  home-felt  quiet  please. 
Successive  study,  exercise,  anil  ease  ; 
Hero  I  most  sweetly  pass  my  tranquil  days, 
And  would  devote  them  to  my  Saviour's  praise." 

I  am  within  two  months  of  entering  my 
fifty-eighth  year.  Infirmities,  to  which  I 
never  was  entirely  a  stranger,  press  upon  my 
constitution,  and  weariness  resulting  from  al- 
most every  degree  of  exertion.  On  review- 
ing papers  necessary  to  be  inspected  to  bring 
this  memoir  to  its  conclusion,  I  find  fourteen 
years  back  I  was  exercised  with  the  same 
symptoms  as  beset  me  now — but  the  Lord 
has  been  my  support,  and  having  obtained 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


help  of  him,  I  continue  unto  this  day — I  am 
amidst  all  capable  of  relishing  life,  but  I 
would  not  by  the  enjoyments  I  am  capable 
of,  and  with  which  I  am  indulged,  be  bound. 
Rather  I  would  indulge  a  desire  to  depart  and 
to  be  with  Christ,  and  would  wait  for  his 
summons.  Whenever  it  may  please  him  to 
call  me  hence,  I  expect  to  meet  with  accept- 
ance only  in  my  Saviour's  righteousness. 
All  my  salvation  is  in  him ;  independent  of 
him  I  am  nothing,  and  hope  for  nothing.  My 
deficiencies  are  many,  but  I  would  not  in- 
dulge one  of  them.  Each,  as  discovered,  is 
a  cause  of  mourning.  Nothing  that  I  have 
done,  or  that  I  can  do,  will  afford  me  satis- 
faction. The  whole  is  the  effort  of  an  im- 
perfect and  an  impure  creature,  whom  it  be- 
comes, in  gratitude,  to  study  to  advance  the 
glory  of  God,  by  whom  he  is  made  a  monu- 
ment of  grace,  by  whose  kind  providence  he 
has  been  supported  and  preserved,  and  who 
remembered  him  in  his  low  estate. 

To  God — the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  I  commend  you,  my  very  dear 
friend. — That  he  may  be  your  God  for  ever 
and  ever,  and  your  guide  through  a  very  long 
life,  even  unto  a  late  and  easy  death ;  and 
that  your  yoke-fellow  and  offspring  may 
abound  in  the  blessings  of  Providence,  in  the 
exceeding  riches  of  grace,  and  with  you 
finally  partake  of  eternal  glory,  is  the  prayer 
of,  ever  yours,  affectionately,  &c. 

Painswick,  August  17,  1799. 


PART  IX* 


CHAPTER  I. 

HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 

It  has  been  seen  by  the  da  te  of  the  preced- 
ing letters,  that  Mr.  Winter's  account  of  him- 
self, leaves  near  nine  years  of  his  life  un- 
noticed. He  was  often  urged  to  carry  on  the 
relation  ;  he  intended  it — but  it  was  delayed 
till  the  purposes  of  his  heart  were  broken  off 
It  remains  therefore  for  the  Editor  to  take  up 
the  narrative,  and  bring  it  down  to  the  closing 
scene  ;  and  this  can  be  done  much  more  easi- 
ly than  the  recovery  of  any  earlier  periods  of 
his  history.  Indeed,  the  events  that  require 
particular  notice  are  not  numerous. 

In  November  1800,  he  met  with  a  very 
painful  affliction,  which  confined  him  for  a 
long  time  from  his  public  work,  but  gave  him 

*  In  the  original  edition,  the  following,  as  a  dedication 
to  this  part,  was  prefixed:— "To  those  Gentlemen  in 
civil  life  who  were  once  under  the  care  of  the  Rev. 
Cornelius  Winter,  as  Scholars  ;  and  more  especially  to 
all  those  in  the  Christian  ministry,  who  enjoyed  the 
unspeakable  advantage  of  his  tuition  and  example,  as 
Students;  this  attempt,  to  do  some  justice  to  a  charac- 
ter, which,  as  it.  is  impossible  for  them  to  forget,  so  it 
is  hoped  they  will  always  endeavour  to  resemble,  is  in- 
scribed by  one  who  is  desirous  to  feel  himself  the 
obligations  of  which  he  takes  the  liberty  to  remind 
others.— W.  J." 


an  opportunity  to  glorify  God  in  the  fires ; 
and  proved  how  graciously  qualified  he  was 
to  suffer  all  the  good  pleasure  of  his  will.  He 
thus  describes  it  in  a  letter  to  a  friend.  "  The 
accident  happened  just  after  I  had  left  a 
venerable  dying  woman,  whom  I  had  been  to 
visit.  After  proper  conversation,  in  which  I 
found  much  heavenly  refreshment,  we  pre- 
pared for  prayer,  by  reading  the  12th  chapter 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  Every  word 
was  precious;  but  the  9th,  10th,  and  11th 
verses  came  with  such  light  and  energy  to 
my  soul,  that  I  could  have  immediately 
preached  from  them.  The  matter  of  my 
prayer  far  exceeded  the  sick  woman's  case. 
I  prayed  that  God  would  prepare  us  for 
whatsoever  he  had  prepared  for  us,  and  made 
a  particular  resignation  of  myself  into  the 
Lord's  hand.  It  was  a  very  heavy,  rainy, 
night.  I  was  at  the  bottom  of  a  declivity, 
upon  the  plainest  ground.  I  never  walked 
more  cautiously:  but  my  foot  slipped, and  the 
master-bone  of  my  leg  was  broken  in  two 
places." 

The  fracture  appeared  extremely  remark- 
able, as  he  did  not  strike  his  foot  against  a 
stone  ;  nor  bend  his  leg  under  him ;  but  fell 
upon  his  back.  He  was  near  a  mile  from  his 
house;  and  as  the  only  chaise  in  the  town 
was  absent,  he  was  conveyed  home  in  the 
best  vehicle  that  could  be  procured.  Many 
followed  the  cart  with  tears,  to  his  cottage. 
He  was  taken  out,  and  laid  upon  the  bed — 
but  before  he  would  allow  the  surgeon  to 
proceed,  he  begged  that  all  might  be  permit- 
ted to  come  up  into  his  chamber. — He  then 
offered  up  a  prayer  with  such  composure,  and 
with  such  particularity,  entering  into  all  the 
cases  which  he  commonly  noticed  in  family 
devotion,  that  it  will  never  be  forgotten  by 
any  who  heard  it. 

What  the  state  of  his  mind  was,  will  ap- 
pear from  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  to 
the  Editor,  which  he  dictated  a  very  short 
time  after. — "I  need  not  tell  you  that  the 
consequence  is  confinement  upon  the  bed,  in 
one  posture,  and  very  acute  pain.  But 
through  the  goodness  of  God,  I  have  an  ex- 
perience to  relate  that  redounds  much  to  his 
glory;  and  if  I  was  not  disaffected  to  the 
egotism,  I  should  use  it  much  upon  the  pre- 
sent occasion.  Shall  I  venture  to  tell  you, 
that  I  am  a  stranger  to  murmuring  and  im- 
patience ;  that  I  am  in  a  state  of  entire  re- 
signation ;  that  I  have  given  myself  quite  up 
to  God  and  to  the  surgeon;  that  though  I 
may  groan  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  it  is 
merely  to  sooth  the  pain ;  and  that  I  can  sooth 
it  better  by  prayer  and  praise,  and  reciting 
the  word  of  God,  than  by  groaning !  I  have 
dismissed  all  anxiety  from  my  mind.  I,  who 
am  naturally  impatient  of  suffering,  had  as 
much  happiness  as  I  was  capable  of  contain- 
ing the  night  after  the  accident,  and  ever 
since  have  known  no  sorrow.    The  reason  is 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


ss 


that,  through  grace,  I  am  the  heir  of  pro- 
mise; and  as  is  the  promise,  such  is  the 
veracity  of  him  that  hath  made  it.  His  pro- 
mises are  opposite  to  our  exercises,  and  when 
the  trial  comes,  then  comes  the  fulfilment,  at 
least  to  such  a  degree  as  the  exigency  ren- 
ders necessary.  As  I  am  overwhelmed  with 
a  sense  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  so 
I  am  with  the  sympathy  and  kindness  of  my 
neighbours  in  general,  and  my  friends  in  par- 
ticular. There  is  much  mercy  in  the  dis- 
pensation that  I  cannot  exemplify  upon  this 
paper.  I  believe  it  is  the  prevention  of  some 
great  evil,  and  that  it  will  be  productive  of 
some  great  good.  But,  though  I  have  thus 
expressed  myself,  I  remember  I  am  yet  in  the 
body,  and  not  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemies' 
temptations,  which  may  put  dimness  upon 
the  pure  gold,  and  cause  me  to  be  the  very 
reverse  of  what  I  describe.  While  I  think  I 
stand,  I  hope  for  grace  to  take  heed  lest  I 
fall ;  and  as  our  continuing  constant  in  prayer 
is  instrumental  of  security,  so  to  be  aided  by 
the  prayers  of  others,  I  esteem  a  very  great 
blessing.  Pray  for  me  then,  my  dearest 
friend,  as  I  do  for  you.  The  petition  of  the 
present  moment  is — Lord,  keep  all  his  bones, 
that  not  one  of  them  may  be  broken." 

He  continued  to  feel  and  display  the  same 
spirit  through  all  the  months  of  his  confine- 
ment. Faith  and  patience  had  their  perfect 
work.  All  who  were  witnesses  of  the  afflic- 
tion were  powerfully  impressed  by  this  pas- 
sive preaching ;  and  the  surgeon  who  attend- 
ed him,  more  than  once  made  a  remark  to 
this  effect — "  Till  I  visited  this  man  I  thought 
religion  was  only  a  mere  opinion,  or  some- 
thing to  talk  about;  but  if  I  am  not  happily 
possessed  of  it  myself,  I  am  now  convinced 
that  there  is  a  reality  and  excellency  in  it." 

At  length,  by  the  use  of  his  crutch  and  his 
staff,  he  was  enabled  to  reach  town,  and  by 
sitting  in  the  pulpit,  discharged  again  all  the 
three  services  of  the  day.  Enervated  by  his 
affliction,  preaching  at  this  time  appeared  to 
him  very  formidable,  and  he  often  thought  he 
must  resign  it.  But  it  was  rendered  a  bless- 
ing, and  the  congregation  was  enlarged. 

Owing  to  the  increase  of  hearers,  and  also 
the  decayed  state  of  the  place,  it  was  deem- 
ed desirable  and  necessary,  to  rebuild  the 
meeting  on  a  larger  scale.  The  people,  by 
all  their  exertions,  could  only  raise  a  small 
proportion  of  the  sum  required  for  this  pur- 
pose ;  the  remainder  was  to  be  obtained  by 
an  application  to  the  religious  public.  This 
called  him  forth  as  a  beggar;  and  few  of 
this  order  ever  met  with  so  much  encourage- 
ment and  success.  His  name  had  prepared 
his  way.  Many  rejoiced  to  honour  his  case 
personally,  and  to  recommend  him  to  their 
connexions ;  and  the  difficulties  which  arose 
from  his  modesty  and  reserve,  were  more 
than  counterbalanced  by  the  promptitude  of 
friendship. 


But  these  excursions  not  only  proved  how 
high  he  stood  in  the  esteem  of  thousands, 
numbers  of  whom  he  had  never  seen  before ; 
but  gave  him  opportunities,  which  otherwise 
he  never  would  have  enjoyed,  of  an  interview 
with  many  of  his  old  friends,  and  of  seeing 
the  grace  of  God  in  the  various  churches,  by 
which  he  was  made  glad. 

The  journies  however  were  often  tiresome 
and  painful ;  and  in  a  multitude  of  applica- 
tions, he  sometimes  met  with  repulses  which 
his  tender  spirit  would  very  sensibly  feel. 
The  want  of  more  rest  and  retirement  was 
also  frequently  trying.  But  he  was  deter- 
mined to  persevere,  and  rejoiced  in  the 
thought,  not  that  he  should  have  a  better 
local  accommodation  for  preaching  than  be- 
fore, but  that  he  should  leave  a  place  conve- 
nient, large,  and  unincumbered,  to  a  suc- 
cessor. This  he  often  mentioned  with  evident 
satisfaction,  accompanied  with  the  remark, 
that  it  was  not  probable  he  should  occupy  it 
long  himself.  It  was  opened  on  the  13th  of 
June  1804. 

"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  endureth  tempta- 
tion." The  word  intends  every  thing  by 
which  grace  is  tried;  and  this  applies  not 
only  to  distressing  events,  but  also  to  pros- 
perous ones.  Many  have  endured  indigence 
and  calamity,  who  have  been  sadly  injured 
by  a  successful  change  in  their  circumstances. 
But  the  deceased  had  on  the  armour  of 
righteousness,  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left.  As  when  afflicted,  he  was  not  swallow- 
ed up  of  overmuch  sorrow,  so  when  indulged 
he  was  not  exalted  above  measure.  He 
could  say  with  Paul,  "  I  know  both  how  to 
be  abased,  and  I  know  how  to  abound ;  every 
where  and  in  all  things  I  am  instructed,  both 
to  be  full  and  to  he  hungry,  both  to  abound 
and  to  suffer  need.  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ,  which  strengtheneth  me." — 
It  had  been  seen  how  he  could  suffer,  it  was 
now  to  appear  how  he  could  possess.  An 
addition  was  made  to  his  income,  which 
though  it  would  have  been  inconsiderable  to 
many,  was  far  from  being  so  to  him.  As  I 
wish  to  make  the  subject  of  these  memoirs 
as  much  as  possible,  the  writer  of  them  too, 
it  will  be  proper  to  insert  here  a  few  extracts 
from  his  letters,  relative  to  this  affair. 

"  To  his  esteemed  friend,  Mr.  P  e, 

of  Stroud,  who  had  been  once  his  pupil,  he 
writes — "  Mrs.  Shepherd,  to  whose  kindness 
I  am  indebted  for  a  competent  subsistence, 
was  a  fellow  'orphan  with  me  in  the  same 
family.  She  gave  herself  at  a  proper  time 
to  Mr.  Shepherd,  who  was  a  man  as  poor  as 
herself.  By  a  series  of  events  they  prosper- 
ed. But  our  friendship  was  broken  off  for 
many  years,  owing  to  a  fraudulent  act  in 
which  they  both  were  guilty,  having  taken 
advantage  of  a  defect  in  her  uncle's  will ;  and 
I  never  was  in  company  with  him  after.  I 
provoked  him  sadly  the  very  year  he  died ; 


56 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


he  might  have  put  an  effectual  caveat  against 
my  ever  inheriting  his  property.  He  left 
every  thing  to  his  wife ;  and  when  making 
his  will,  he  said  to  the  attorney,  that  she  had 
a  cousin  whom  he  knew  she  would  take  care 
of.  She  sent  for  me  up  to  London,  in  Au- 
gust 1803,  desired  that  we  might  support 
friendship,  and  before  I  left  town,  made  her 
will  in  my  favour,  leaving  only  a  legacy  of 
JEIO  to  a  neighbour.  She  had  a  wish  to  live 
with  us,  arranged  her  affairs  accordingly,  and 
wonderful  to  say,  came  to  us  on  the  7th,  and 
died  on  the  9th  of  June,  at  the  very  hour 
she  had  entered  the  house.  She  had  settled 
all  tilings  so  exactly,  that  no  man  ever  had 
less  trouble  in  taking  possession  of  property 
than  I  have  had.  It  will  be  little  more  to 
me  neat  than  jE150  per  annum — a  great 
estate  to  me,  who  have  all  my  lifetime  been 
in  narrow  and  uncertain  circumstances,  and 
will  make  me  easy  to  whatever  period  God 
may  see  fit  to  continue  me  here,  and  will 
enable  me,  if  I  precede  Mrs.  Winter  to  the 
eternal  world,  to  leave  her  comfortable. 
The  more  I  review  the  Providence,  the  more 
I  am  filled  with  astonishment.  I  am  thank- 
ful, but  not  elevated ;  and  think  myself  highly 
responsible  to  the  Giver  of  every  good  gift, 
who  remembered  me  in  my  low  estate,  and 
in  my  latter  years  has  dealt  so  bountifully 
with  me.  I  have  no  change  to  undergo ;  I 
shall  neither  eat  nor  drink  more,  nor  wear 
better  clothing ;  yet  I  would  rather  lay  out 
than  lay  up." 

In  a  letter  to  Miss  C  1,  Bristol. — 

"By  this  affecting  Providence  I  am  carried 
above  necessity.  My  conscience  obliges  me 
to  restore  a  sum  of  which  I  knew  a  widow 
had  been  unjustly  deprived,  and  which  there- 
fore makes  a  part  of  the  property ;  whether, 
after  this,  it  may  make  me  worth  £150  per 
annum,  I  cannot  say ;  however,  I  presume  it 
may  be  something  towards  it.  I  receive  it 
with  great  solemnity  of  spirit,  rather  than 
with  elevation,  and  adore  the  hand  that  has 
committed  it  to  my  trust.  It  is  given  rather 
to  improve  to  the  good  of  others,  than  to  de- 
vote wholly  to  myself.  My  case  is  the  re- 
verse of  hers  who  said,  "  I  went  out  full,  and 
the  Lord  hath  brought  me  home  again  empty." 
1  entered  life  empty,  and  prevented  witli  the 
blessings  of  his  goodness,  I  close  it  with  the 
enjoyment  of  bread  to  the  full." 

Addressing  his  very  dear  friend  Mr.  L  e 

of  W  m,  Shropshire. — "  Had  she  died 

in  London,  I  should  never  have  received  her 
whole  property,  as  she  lived  among  thieves. 
Her  coming  to  Painswick  with  intention  to 
live,  and  dying  exactly  on  the  four  and  twen- 
tieth hour  after  her  arrival,  is  an  event  that 
exceedingly  affects  me  whenever  I  think  of 
it  The  change  it  has  produced  in  my  cir- 
cumstances is  truly  humbling  in  my  mind ; 
elated  I  cannot — I  would  not  be.  Little  did 
1  think  while  we  were  entering  Worcester, 


and  I  was  mentioning  to  you  the  probability 
of  my  surviving  Mrs.  Shepherd,  that  her 
property  would  so  soon  fall  into  my  hands; 
but  thus  it  is,  that  God  is  often  thinking  of, 
and  providing  for  us,  when  we  are  least  ap- 
prehensive of  it — Blessed  be  his  name,  I 
have  never  known  what  anxiety  for  futurity 
is ;  but  under  narrow  and  uncertain  subsist- 
ence have  dwelt  at  ease.  I  do  not  now  find 
an  additional  want,  I  have  no  alteration  to 
make  in  my  mode  of  living ;  but  as  the  stew- 
ard who  is  required  to  be  found  faithful  to  the 
talent  entrusted  to  his  care,  I  wish  to  impart 
of  the  favour  imparted,  and  to  consecrate  it 
to  God,  from  whom  I  have  received  it." 

No  person  ever  acquired  a  fortune  with  so 
little  envy.  Every  one  rejoiced  at  the  intelli- 
gence, and  the  joy  was  as  sincere  as  it  was 
general.  He  derived  indeed  little  or  no  per- 
sonal benefit  from  it;  it  is  questionable  whe- 
ther he  had  upon  the  whole  so  much  coining 
in  as  before,  since  casual  gratuities  from  va- 
rious quarters  now  failed — people  having  a 
quick  sagacity  in  discerning  that  a  man  no 
longer  wants  their  assistance — while  the 
number  of  applications  and  dependents  mul- 
tiplied. Imagining  himself,  however,  inde- 
pendent in  his  circumstances,  he  resolved  to 
alienate  his  ministerial  salary  to  the  support 
of  an  assistant,  whom  he  deemed  necessary, 
both  from  the  state  of  his  congregation,  and 
his  own  growing  infirmities.  In  consequence 
of  this  he  was  led  to  resume  a  work  which 
he  had  declined  for  some  years,  and  engaged 
two  more  students.  These  were  Mr.  Lane 
and  Mr.  Daniel.  While  they  relieved  him 
from  one  of  the  services  of  the  Sabbath,  they 
added  to  his  mental  fatigue  by  his  attentions 
to  them  in  the  week ;  but  he  rejoiced  to  see 
that  his  labour  was  not  in  vain.  They  both 
became  very  acceptable  preachers:  Mr. 
Daniel  is  fixed  in  a  scene  of  activity  and 
usefulness  at  Kingswood,  near  Wotton-un- 
deredge ;  Mr.  Lane,  after  being  compelled 
by  threatening  symptoms  to  refrain  for  a  sea- 
son from  public  exercises,  is  likely  to  settle 
at  Wells.    These  were  his  last  pupils. 

The  following  two  letters  will  serve  to 
render  this  account  more  satisfactory,  while 
they  express  feelings  that  do  him  honour, 
and  apprehensions  that  were,  alas !  too  soon 
to  be  realized. 

The  first  was  written  about  two  months 
before  his  seizure,  and  was  addressed  to  Mrs. 

S  r,  of  B  s,  who  had  been  much 

with  him  previous  to  her  marriage,  and  for 
whom  he  entertained  a  paternal  regard. 

"  My  very  dear  daughter, — I  sit  down 
purposely  to  write  something  to  you — I  wish 
it  may  be  something  profitable,  for  otherwise 
a  letter  is  nothing  worth.  The  occurrences 
of  the  day  come  of  course  to  be  mentioned. 
You  have  heard  we  have  left  the  hill,  and 
answer  the  purpose  of  a  tent  by  residing 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


57 


where   Miss   Loveday   used  to  reside. — 

Mrs.  spent  upwards  of  a  month  with 

us  here. — Could  she  have  been  reconciled 
to  all  the  inconveniences  of  an  invalid  family, 
she  would  have  been  cordially  welcome  to 
have  staid  till  Christmas ;  but  our  mode  of 
living'  is  so  very  different  to  hers,  that  I  do 
not  think  she  was  quite  comfortable.  The 
fact  is,  that  my  fortune  is  reduced  below  the 
expected  sum  per  annum,  by  the  change  it 
underwent,  and  the  taxes  it  is  under,  so  that 
though  in  itself  a  great  blessing,  economy  is 
required  in  the  use  of  it,  especially  as  1  have 
many  mouths  to  feed  upon  it,  besides  those  of 
our  own  family,  that  I  may  not  entangle  ei- 
ther it  or  myself  I  have  a  turn  for  a  little 
elegance,  but  I  must  dispense  with  it,  con- 
tent with  ordinary  things  and  common  de- 
cency. I  see  my  mercies  more  than  my 
disadvantages,  and  desire  that  murmuring 
may  never  take  the  place  of  the  great  grati- 
tude due  daily  to  the  God  of  my  life.  I  am 
disappointed  in  not  seeing  more  genuine  re- 
ligion produced  by  my  labours.  Some  I  hope 
fear  God,  and  walk  before  him,  but  many 
are  so  irregular  in  their  walk,  that  I  fear 
for  them. — I  hope  matters  are  different  at 

B  s.    I  find  the  short  time  since  I  was 

there,  has  produced  changes.  Some  have 
quitted  the  stage  of  life,  and  left  vacant  seats 
in  the  house  of  God;  others  are  removed; 
while  instability  has  turned  away  a  few,  yet 
our  dear  friend  has  a  considerable  number,  by 
which  his  hands  are  strengthened.  O  that 
they  may  be  his  present  joy  and  his  future 
crown  of  rejoicing.  How  surprised  I  was  to 
see  him  so  full  and  fleshy.  He  credits  his 
soil,  his  pantry,  and  his  nurse.  May  you,  my 
dear  daughter,  be  long  continued  to  be  his 
comfort,  and  may  his  life  be  coeval  with 
yours,  that,  at  a  very  late  period,  you  may 
both  have  such  a  retrospective  view  of  life 
together  as  will  excite  a  repeated  tribute  of 
praise.  I  need  not  say  daily  consecrate 
yourselves  to  God.  Keep  the  mind  heaven- 
wards; let  your  friends  see  that  you  live 
upon  the  suburbs  of  the  celestial  kingdom. 
Do  not  let  the  world  engross  you  in  any  de- 
gree. Whether  it  smile  or  frown,  be  alike 
indifferent  to  it.  Conceive  of  it  as  it  is, 
fleeting  and  uncertain.  Take  the  refresh- 
ments provided  for  and  suited  to  the  pilgrim, 
but  do  not  set  up  your  rest  where  you  should 
only  bait.  Prepare  to  meet  your  God.  I 
hope  to  be  regulated  according  to  the  advice 
I  give.  I  have  need ;  the  full  allotment  of 
the  life  of  man  is  pretty  near  its  period,  and 
decay  discovers  itself,  if  not  so  perceptible  in 
the  countenance ;  yet  in  the  feeling  of  the 
loss  of  spirits  and  strength.  Were  I  in  the 
vigour  of  my  days,  inattention  to  the  eternal 
state  would  be  unallowable.  How  much 
more  is  it  at  threescore  and  five.  But  with 
all  the  infirmities  and  imperfections  of  nature, 
not  to  say  sins,  I  can  truly  say,  my  desires 


are  ever  towards  the  Lord;  and  I  would  be 
on  the  constant  look-out  for  my  great  change, 
and  be  daily  waiting  for  my  dismission,  ra- 
ther than  be  taken  up  with  the  trifles  of  sense 
— whatever  consequence  the  world  may  give 
to  them.  Will  the  world  ever  be  wiser  than 
it  is !  Very  weighty  are  the  measures  Pro- 
vidence is  using  to  make  it  so.  The  judg- 
ments of  the  Lord  are  abroad  in  the  earth, 
and  our  nation  is  like  to  feel  the  force  of 
them.  A  great  deal  of  distress  now  prevails. 
Failures  in  this  neighbourhood  are  incessant. 
They  who  were  considered  wealthy  are  re- 
duced to  the  greatest  straits,  and  the  trade 
that  is  carried  on,  is  so  depreciated,  that  it 
is  asserted,  the  manufacturers  cannot  get  a 
living  profit.  Such  is  the  state  of  things,  and 
consequently  the  poor  feel  exquisitely.  My 
good  wife  is  as  well  as  may  be  expected, 
and  so  is  Mrs.  Tyler,  to  whom  we  are  much 
indebted  for  her  kind  exertions.  They  unite 
in  salutations  to  you  and  my  son,  from  whom 
I  shall  be  ever  glad  to  receive  a  line.  If  he 
will  commission  you  to  use  his  pen,  and  you 
will  accept  the  commission,  it  will  be  equally 
and  very  acceptable  to,  my  ever  dear  daugh- 
ter, your  very  affectionate  father,  C.  W. 
"  Painswick,  Oct.  16.  1807." 

The  other  was  addressed  to  Mrs.  S  r, 

Birmingham,  and  was  written  only  a  month 
before  his  death. 

"  My  dear  friend, — It  is  so  long  since  I 
wrote  to  you,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  think  of 
it.  You  are  nevertheless  often  in  my  mind, 
and  I  set  you  upon  the  list  of  my  old  friends. 
I  am  yet  in  life,  yet  in  the  house  of  God,  yet 
engaged  in  the  ministry  of  the  word.  But  1 
am  waiting  for  the  change  when  I  shall  rank 
with  perfect  society  in  the  world  of  blessed- 
ness, where  we  shall  see  no  war,  nor  hear 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  nor  have  hunger  of 
bread,  as  is  the  case  with  many  of  our  dear 
brethren  on  the  Continent,  and  would  have 
been  as  dreadfully  so  with  us,  if  God  had 
punished  us  as  our  sins  deserve.  I  am  get- 
ting old  and  feeble.  I  am  before  my  years  in 
constitution,  and  have  been  ever  since  I  was 
a  child.  So  trying  I  find  the  ministry,  and 
so  many  trials  have  I  with  my  people,  that  I 
have  been  tempted  to  give  it  up.  But  yet  I 
dare  not.  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  is  a 
peal  in  my  cars,  and  turns  the  inclination  of 
the  mind.  It  has  been  the  lot  of  others,  as 
well  as  of  myself,  to  have  their  labours  de- 
feated, and  to  be  pained  with  the  worst  of  all 
disappointments.  A  few  years  will  deliver 
me  from  my  pain  and  convey  me  to  my  rest, 
and  I  hope  it  will  be  found  that  however 
great  the  ground  of  my  complaint  is,  that  all 
the  labour  is  not  lost. — Our  neighbourhood  is 
and  has  been  for  some  time  a  neighbourhood 
in  affliction. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  B— - — r  are  in 
tlic  situation  where  I  was  at  the  hill,  and  I 
with  my  good  old  woman  arc  at  the  brow  of 


58 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


the  town,  a  very  short  distance  from  our 
place  of  worship,  where  we  shut  our  eyes  at 
the  inconveniences  we  sustain,  thankful  for 
the  conveniences  we  enjoy.  My  good  wife 
is  in  cheerful  blindness,  desirous  of  inward 
illumination.  Mrs.  Tyler  is  as  well  as  may 
be  expected,  passing  her  days  in  devotional 
retirement,  and  acting  as  far  as  she  can  in 
Mrs.  Winter's  stead.  Both  unite  in  affec- 
tionate salutations  to  you.  Do  you  find  in- 
creasing encouragement  from  your  attention 
to  the  school !    Do  the  walls  of  prejudice  in 

any  degree  fall  at  L  d.    Persevere,  my 

dear  friend,  though  under  discouragement. 
Some  good  may  arise  from  your  endeavours 
that  may  diffuse  itself  to  posterity.  A  little 
stream  may  convey  downward  a  great  mercy, 
and  from  your  maintaining  your  ground,  the 
barren  wilderness  may  become  a  fruitful 
field.  According  to  this  idea  I  am  led  to 
keep  my  station.  The  work  has  derived  but 
little  advantage  from  me ;  may  it  greatly  in- 
crease by  the  instrumentality  of  another, 
when  I  am  in  the  grave.  Wherever  there 
is  to  be  found  one  given  of  the  Father,  the 
Son  will  make  his  claim  to  him,  and  find  him 
out,  and  according  to  this  truth  will  be  the 
success,  or  non-success,  of  the  ministry. 

What  news  does  B  m  afford?    Do  the 

Miss  W  's  appear  benefited  by  the  means 

of  grace  ?  Their  being  so  will  prove  a  great 
satisfaction  to  you,  as  the  contrary  will  be 
your  affliction.  I  hope  Mr.  W  is  pru- 
dent in  his  management  of  them,  and  that  by 
his  being  near  to  God,  he  will  communicate 
something  to  them  that  shall  remain  with 
them  for  ever.    I  hear  different  tidings  from 

W  y,  but  I  hope  in  the  main  the  work  of 

God  is  going  forwards  in  both  departments 
of  the  church  in  that  place,  notwithstanding 
the  late  awful  instances  of  human  depravity. 
— Do,  my  dear  friend,  let  us  hear  from  you 

soon.  As  I  suppose  Miss  W  is  with  you, 

I  take  the  liberty  to  send  my  christian  salu- 
tations by  you,  and  remain,  yours,  affection- 
ately, in  our  dear  Lord  Jesus,  C.  W. 
"  Painswick,  Nov.  6,  1807." 


CHAPTER  II. 

HIS  SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 

Mr.  Winter  was  much  older  in  constitu- 
tion than  he  was  in  age.  His  strength  was 
never  considerable ;  but  for  a  length  of  time 
previous  to  his  removal,  he  had  been  gene- 
rally complaining,  and  frequently  so  indis- 
posed as  to  render  the  discharge  of  his  work 
trying  and  difficult. 

December  13th,  1807,  he  exchanged  pul- 
pits with  Mr.  Jeary  of  Rodborough.  This 
was  the  last  Sabbath  of  his  public  ministry ; 
and  two  things  are  observable.  Here  he 
preached  his  first  sermon  in  Gloucestershire ; 
and  thus  he  ended  his  career  in  this  county 
where  he  began  it. — And  his  concluding  dis- 


course was  2  Corinthians  v.  1.  "  For  we 
know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  Taber- 
nacle were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of 
God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal 
in  the  heavens." — The  congregation  was  pe- 
culiarly impressed.  Many  said  he  seemed  to 
be  preaching  his  own  funeral  sermon. — So  it 
proved. 

He  slept  that  night  at  Mr.  Hogg's.  In  the 
morning  he  came  to  Mr.  William  Cooper's, 
Southfield-house,  Woodchester,  and  ottered, 
if  agreeable,  to  spend  the  day,  and  take  a  bed 
with  them.  In  the  afternoon  as  Mr.  Cooper 
was  writing  to  the  Editor,  he  wrote  on  one 
part  of  the  sheet — 

"  My  ever  dear  friend, — Though  I  have 
nothing  particularly  to  communicate,  I  have 
wanted  to  write.  A  long  silence  is  hardly 
consistent  with  the  reciprocal  regard  that 
subsists  between  us.  I  sometimes  hear  of  you 
that  you  are  pretty  well ;  sometimes  that  you 
are  but  indifferent.  I  hope  the  former  is 
more  generally  the  case.  I  rejoice  in  your 
acceptance ;  and  trust  the  result  of  your  la- 
bours is  usefulness  in  all  the  variety  for 
which  the  ministry  is  appointed.  I  wish  I 
could  give  you  a  pleasing  account  of  myself, 
but  I  cannot.  My  powers  of  late  have  been 
much  shut  up,  like  water  frozen,  rather  than 
like  a  flowing  stream.  Indeed  I  have  been 
very,  very,  very  poorly,  and  when  I  am 
forced  to  preach,  it  is  in  a  way  that  is  very 
dissatisfying  to  myself  My  voice  fails  me, 
and  you  may  judge  of  a  sermon  that  is  with- 
out voice,  as  well  as  without  energy  of  mind. 
But  what  is  to  be  said  of  an  exhausted  candle  ] 
The  lower  it  burns  the  dimmer  the  light  I 
have  been  tempted  to  give  out,  yet  knowing 
that  where  I  do  not  stand  in  the  way  of  ano- 
ther I  ought  to  stand  as  long  as  I  am  able ;  \ 
resist  the  temptation  hitherto.  When  you 
have  an  half  hour's  leisure  let  me  hear  from 
you,  and  give  me  all  the  good  news  you  can. 
Yours  ever,  and  very  affectionately,  in  our 
dear  Lord  Jesus,  C.  W." 

In  the  evening  he  seemed  tolerably  well, 
and  prayed  with  his  usual  excellence.  But 
in  the  night  he  was  seized  with  a  bilious  fe- 
ver ;  and  though  he  came  down  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  was  obliged  to  return  to  bed,  and  con- 
tinued much  afflicted  all  the  day.  In  the 
evening  of  Tuesday,  Mr.  Payne,  of  Forest 
Green,  visited  him,  and  after  an  hour's  inter- 
view and  conversation,  prayed  with  him.  He 
said  that  his  friend,  who  had  peculiarly  re- 
ferred the  issue  of  the  affliction  to  the  Lord's 
disposal,  had  precisely  expressed  his  own 
wishes.  Though  the  night  was  restless  and 
painful,  in  the  morning  he  rose  and  came 
down,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  was  not  to 
be  diverted,  to  go  home.  His  friend  con- 
veyed him  to  Painswick  in  his  carriage,  and 
Mrs.  Cooper  accompanied  him.  Before  he 
left  the  house  he  said  "  I  cannot  leave  you 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


59 


ma'am,  without  my  blessing."  He  kneeled 
down  for  the  last  time  in  this  abode  of  friend- 
ship ;  but  so  exhausted  was  his  strength,  and 
so  low  was  his  voice  that  he  could  not  be  dis- 
tinctly heard  by  the  servants,  who  were  more 
remote  from  him ;  and  so  overpowering  was 
the  effect  of  disease  that  he  was  scarcely  able 
to  say  any  thing  all  the  way  to  his  house. 
Yet  after  he  reached  home  nothing  seemed 
very  alarming,  and  for  some  days  the  physi- 
cian was  not  called  in.  During  the  week  of 
his  return  he  wrote  to  a  friend :  "  I  was  ar- 
rested in  my  progress,  and  brought  home  a 
prisoner.  I  write  from  my  bed  to  inform  you 
of  it.  I  did  not  know  on  Tuesday  morning 
but  I  should  have  seen  the  Judge  of  all.  I 
have  no  prospect  of  coming  abroad  soon. 
The  Lord  sanctify  all  his  dispensations,  and 
it  will  be  well  with  us,  however  severe  they 
be." 

Hence  on  the  28th,  he  wrote  the  following 
note  to  William  Cooper,  Esq. 

"  My  dear  sir, — By  a  poor  man  who  stops 
a  few  hours  at  Mr.  Hillman's,  I  thought  it 
right  to  drop  you  and  Mrs.  Cooper  a  line  :  it 
only  expresses  the  grateful  sense  of  your 
kindness  to  me,  not  only  during  my  confine- 
ment at  your  hospitable  mansion,  but  for  con- 
veying me  home.  I  have  been  a  prisoner 
ever  since,  but  it  appears  the  hour  of  release 
is  approaching;  and,  I  hope,  if  no  relapse 
comes,  on  Sabbath  day  to  resume  my  services 
in  the  congregation.  I  have  reason  to  be 
thankful  for  a  mind  kept  in  perfect  peace,  and 
for  such  visits  of  mercy  as  amount  to  an  indi- 
cation that  the  Lord  has  not  been  dealing  with 
me  in  anger.  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  how  desira- 
ble it  is  to  be  weaned  from  this  world,  and  to 
die  to  it,  before  we  are  called  to  die  out  of 
it  Reason  and  religion  concur  to  remind 
me  that  I  cannot  be  long  here :  a  respite 
I  may  have,  a  reprieve  I  cannot  expect ; 
that  which  sin  has  made  terrible,  the  re- 
deeming love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  has  made  de- 
lightful. 

"  To  die  is  gain,  and  to  be  kept  at  a  dis- 
tance from  death  is  therefore  in  reality  a  dis- 
advantage— but  it  is  not  without  its  accom- 
modation to  them  who  live  unto  the  Lord. 
That  you  and  Mrs.  Cooper  may  be  richly  ac- 
commodated with  grace  till  you  are  meeten- 
ed  for  glory,  is  the  prayer  of,  my  dear  sir, 
yours,  in  the  bonds  of  the  gospel,    C.  W." 

"  Mr.  Jay  bears  in  mind  his  obligations  to 
you,  and,  Deo  volente,  intends  performing  his 
promise.  Kind  respects  to  Mrs.  Wilks, 
and  hope  Mrs.  Butler  is  in  merciful  circum- 
stances." 

Before  we  quite  leave  Woodchester,  and  to 
anticipate  a  little  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  re- 
petition— The  mansion  that  had  entertained 
the  deceased  a  few  weeks  before,  welcomed 
the  Editor  when  he  went  to  attend  his  funeral 


solemnities.  This  circumstance  produced 
what  is  here  inserted,  .and  which  would  not 
have  been  made  thus  public,  had  it  not  been 
to  gratify  a  friendly  request.  It  was  im- 
promptu ;  the  sudden  unstudied  language  of 
the  heart,  which  it  was  deemed  unfair  to 
alter. 

Written,  and  left  in  the  chamber  in  which 
Mr.  Winter  was  seized  for  death,  at  the 
house  of  William  Cooper,  Esq.  Wood- 
chester. 

And  was  it  in  this  house  of  peace, 

Of  friendship  and  of  love, 
Winter,  the  Man  of  God,  receiv'd 

His  summons  from  above  ? 

With  lamp  well  trim'd  and  burning  bright, 

And  loins  begirt  around, 
In  waiting  posture  long  he  stood, 

To  hear  the  welcome  sound. 

Born  from  above,  and  thither  bent, 

And  longing  for  the  skies; 
How  sweet  the  voice  that  met  him  here, 

And  softly  said,  "  Arise!" 

And,  ripe  for  bliss,  to  him  ere  now 
This  call  had  long  been  given — 

But  he,  the  joy  of  doing  good 
On  earth,  preferr'd  to  heaven. 

The  world,  the  church,  the  young,  the  poor, 
Ah!  these  detained  him  here — 

For  us  he  pray'd,  he  preach'd,  he  liv'd, 
And  pour'd  the  friendly  tear. 

Hence,  wing'd  for  heaven,  he  linger'd  still 

Nor  was  in  haste  to  fly — 
But  having  taught  us  how  to  live, 

Would  teach  us  how  to  die. 

"  My  Father,"  cried  Elisha,  when 

Elijah  left  the  earth — 
And  thou  hast  claims  to  filial  love, 

As  strong  as  those  of  birth. 

A  son  of  thine,  dear  saint,  here  kneels, 

Thy  shining  flight  to  trace  ; 
And  bless'd,  could  he  thy  mantle  catch, 

And  share  but  half  thy  grace. 

When  Jacob  on  his  journey  slept, 

And  saw  the  ladder  near ; 
The  top  of  which  e'en  pierced  the  sky. 

And  God  was  standing  there; 

"  How  dreadful  is  this  place,"  he  cried, 

How  sacred  is  the  ground ! 
I  here  have  seen  the  house  of  God, 

The  gate  of  glory  found." 

Inmates!  or  guests!  whoe'er  you  are 

That  in  this  room  may  lie, 
Remember — here  our  Winter  slept, 

And  here  began  to  die. 

To  return  to  Painswick — He  had  collec- 
tions of  his  papers  brought  to  him,  and  in- 
spected them,  destroy  ing,  as  well  as  preserving 
many.  He  remarked,  that  it  was  unreason- 
able for  him  to  give  his  surviving  friends  so 
much  trouble.  It  would  appear,  from  hence, 
that  he  deemed  the  time  of  his  departure  was 
drawing  on,  even  though  he  might  be  per- 
mitted to  visit  the  house  of  God  again.  What 
the  state  of  his  mind  now  was,  the  following 
letter  will  discover. — The  Editor  sets  a  pecu- 
liar value  upon  it,  because  it  was  not  only 
the  last  that  he  received  from  his  ever  dear 


60 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


and  honoured  friend,  but  also  the  last  that 
was  written  by  hiin. 

"  My  very  dear  friend, — The  morning 
after  I  wrote  to  you  I  was  seized  with  a  cold 
shivering,  followed  with  a  violent  bilious 
fever,  and  this  attended  with  an  inflammation 
in  my  right  leg,  from  which  I  have  not  the 
least  relief.    The  fever  continues  to  lurk  in 
me,  and  I  am  a  complete  invalid.  Hitherto 
I  have  had  such  pulpit  help  as  the  neighbour- 
hood affords,  but  it  is  too  inconsiderable.  I 
have  an  inclination  to  make  an  effort  to  come 
abroad  next  Lird's-day,  but  it  is  very  doubt- 
ful whether  I  shall  be  able,  but  if  I  do,  I  fear 
I  shall  not  be  capable  of  collecting  matter 
that  will  be  a  stay  to  me,  so  barren  is  my 
mind  and  inadequate  to  fixed  thought.  I  have 
been  a  long  time  out  of  order,  and  my  limbs 
exceedingly  affected  by  every  little  damp 
which  has  come  to  them.    My  mind  amidst 
all  is  calm  and  placid,  and  I  am  desirous  that 
the  will  of  the  Lord  may  be  done  in  the  issue. 
We  are  sure  the  Lord  does  that  which  is 
right,  and  however  exercised  we  may  be  with 
pain,  it  becomes  us  to  live  in  the  exercise  of 
submission.    What  if  this  be  the  presage  of 
dissolution  !  I  hope  to  consider  it  the  presage 
of  release  from  sin  and  its  effects ;  and  that, 
through  the  grace  of  our  adorable  Jesus,  I 
shall  attain  to  the  full  salvation  which  his 
sufferings  and  death  have  made  sure.    I  am 
pleased  at  the  good  account  you  give  of  Wil- 
liam.   May  you  escape  the  pain  arising  from 
undutiful  children,  and  have  all  the  blessings 
arising  from  obedience  and  affection.  My 
love  to  Mrs.  Jay  and  the  family.    I  am,  my 
very  dear  friend,  affectionately  yours,  in  our 
dear  Lord  Jesus,  C.  W. 

"  Painswick,  Dec.  32,  1807." 

This  was  written  in  bed;  and  being  finish- 
ed, the  hand,  which  the  writing  proved  was 
beginning  to  forget  her  cunning,  laid  down 
the  pen  for  ever. 

The  relapse  of  the  disorder  increased  its 
violence,  and  seemed  to  threaten  mortifica- 
tion in  the  right  leg.  His  friends  had  now 
every  reason  to  fear  the  result,  and  if  prayers 
and  tears  would  have  retained  him,  "Our 
brother  had  not  died." 

There  would  have  been  nothing  unsatis- 
factory if  the  life  of  such  a  man  had  closed  in 
sdence.  We  are  prone  to  lay  too  much  stress 
on  a  few  dyinsr  expressions. — Vet  the  words 
of  departing  saints  are  precious. — They  con- 
vince and  they  encourage. 

Such  stupefaction  did  the  last  stages  of  the 
disorder  produce,  that  the  dear  deceased  had 
not  many  intervals  in  which  he  could  com- 
mand the  use  of  his  reason.  His  benign  and 
venerable  countenance  was  viewed  witli  the 
most  sympathetic  interest,  while  he  was  sleep- 
ing away  the  hours  that  kept  him  from  the 
joy  of  his  Lord. 

Even  his  mild  and  gentle  rambles  were  all 


in  character  with  the  man;  and  each  lucid 
moment  was  filled  up  with  prayer,  thanks- 
giving, and  friendship.  He  often  mentioned 
his  connexions  by  name,  attended  with  some 
devotional  expression.  Every  time  he  took 
refreshment,  or  medicine,  he  verbally  im- 
plored the  divine  blessing.  On  the  Wednes- 
day night  previous  to  his  dissolution,  being 
asked  by  his  nurse  how  he  was,  he  replied, 
"  I  am  a  little  languid,  but  I  bless  God  that 
he  has  brought  me  thus  far,  in  such  an  easy 
manner."  Soon  after  he  desired  the  three 
first  chapters  of  the  Epistle  to  the  1'hilippians, 
to  be  read  to  him.  He  paid  particular  regard 
to  those  passages  that  speak  of  ministers  and 
people  in  their  relation  to  each  other.  He 
said,  "  He  had  laboured  for  the  young,  but 
feared  he  had  not  been  very  useful ;  yet  he 
hoped  the  good  effect  of  it  would  hereafter 
appear." 

He  said,  "  If  God  were  to  refer  the  event 
of  the  affliction  to  me,  I  would  refer  it  to  him 
again.  I  feel  to  this  world  as  a  weaned 
child." 

On  Friday  one  of  his  brethren,  Mr.  Bishop, 
of  Gloucester,  visited  him.  When  told  that 
he  was  come,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  hands 
with  surprise  and  pleasure.  Mr.  Bishop  said 
to  him,  "  I  hope,  sir,  that  you  are  happy !" 
He  replied,  "  Yes."  His  friend  added,  "  It 
is  but  a  short  step  from  earth  to  heaven:" 
with  a  feeble,  but  distinct  voice,  he  echoed, 
"  A  short  step,"  and  then  added,  "  I  have 
sought  the  divine  glory  more  than  my  own 
interest.  I  am  closing  life  as  I  began  it" 
His  eyelids  then  fell — his  voice  ceased — and 
death" seemed  rapidly  approaching. 

Many  acknowledgments  of  a  similar  nature 
were  uttered,  which,  as  is  too  common  in 
these  cases,  the  attendants  did  not  secure  at 
the  season,  and  could  not  accurately  recover 
afterwards.  Indeed  the  affectionate  and  de- 
voted creatures  significantly  remarked,  they 
"  Did  not  know  that  one  thing  he  said  was 
better  than  another ;  it  was  all  alike — so 
heavenly — it  was  heaven  to  be  with  him." 

The  Sabbath  was  now  come  that  was  to  end 
in  the  rest  that  remains  tor  the  people  of  God. 
In  the  morning  he  prayed,  "  Lord,  bless  and 
unite  my  people."  Soon  after,  he  suddenly 
cried  out,  "  He  is  my  salvation,  he  is  all  my 
salvation."  About  eleven  o'clock  he  exclaim- 
ed, "  I  am  ready,  I  am  ready,  I  want  to  go 
home."  Soon  after,  when  one  of  his  friends 
looked  upon  him,  and  asked  him  how  he  did  ? 
He  replied,  "  Like  a  dying  man ;  may  the 
Lord  bless  you,  and  your  family."  He  in- 
quired, as  some  of  the  family  returned  from 
worship,  the  state  of  the  congregation,  and 
was  pleased  to  learn  that  it  was  large. 

A  little  before  eight  in  the  evening  he  said, 
"Tell  my  good  wife,  I  am  going."  He  then 
stretched  himself  out,  laid  his  arms  at  length 
upon  his  body,  and  indistinctly  said,  "  Come 
Lord  Jesus;"  and  without  a  groan,  fell  asleep. 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


61 


Tuesday  morning,  January  the  19th,  was 
the  period  appointed  for  his  interment.  For 
several  hours  before  the  service  began,  num- 
bers were  assembled  together.  More  than 
thirty  ministers,  of  various  denominations, 
were  present  on  the  solemn  occasion.  While 
the  coffin  was  within  view  of  the  congrega- 
tion, Mr.  Bishop,  of  Gloucester,  delivered  a 
funeral  sermon  from  the  character  given  of 
Hannaniah,  "He  was  a  faithful  man,  and 
feared  God  above  many."  The  reflections 
were  as  interesting  as  the  text  was  pertinent. 
As  soon  as  his  remains  were  laid  in  the  vault 
beneath  the  pulpit;  a  very  able  and  character- 
istical  address  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Jones, 
of  Chalford. 

Few  services  were  ever  so  affecting.  The 
place  was  a  Bochim,  a  place  of  weeping. — 
Painful  as  it  is  to  attend  such  a  scene,  there 
is  a  kind  of  melancholy  pleasure  blending 
with  it.  To  mingle  with  a  multitude  drawn 
together,  not  by  curiosity,  not  by  the  ostenta- 
tious pageantry  of  death,  but  by  esteem  and 
attachment;  to  witness  unequivocal,  as  well 
as  numerous  proofs  of  departed  worth;  to  see 
one  turning  aside  to  heave  a  sigh,  another 
raising  his  streaming  eyes  to  heaven ;  to  hear, 
as  you  withdrew,  the  short  but  significant 
eulogiums  from  many  a  quivering  lip, — "  Ah ! 
he  was  a  good  man." — "  I  have  lost  a  friend 
indeed." — "  I  shall  never  find  his  like  again." 
— Yes — all  this  affords  a  mournful  satisfac- 
tion. And  what  attendant  will  ever  forget 
the  mixture  of  grief  and  gratification  he  suf- 
fered and  enjoyed  when  this  man  of  God  was 
carried  to  his  long  home?  Few  men  were 
ever  adapted  to  inspire  an  affection  at  once 
so  powerful  and  tender.  There  are  charac- 
ters we  venerate,  that  we  can  hardly  be  said 
to  love.  The  apostle  has  made  a  difference 
between  the  impression  produced  by  right- 
eousness and  goodness :  "  For  scarcely  for  a 
righteous  man  will  one  die,  yet  peradventure 
for  a  good  man  some  would  even  dare  to  die. 
It  is  goodness  that  makes  one  man  a  god  to 
another ;  we  are  only  to  be  won  by  kindness : 
they  are  the  cords  of  love,  by  which  hearts 
are  irresistibly  drawn,  and  indissolubly  bound 
together. 

Who,  therefore,  that  knew  Mr.  Winter, 
can  wonder  at  the  sensibility  his  loss  produced. 
The  intercourse  of  the  friends  that  assembled 
in  his  own  house  previously  to  the  funeral, 
was  carried  on  by  looks  and  tears,  rather  than 
words.  When  the  procession  came  out  of  his 
dwelling,  the  spectators  that  lined  the  street, 
all  melted  into  emotions  of  grief.  When  the 
corpse  entered  the  chapel,  and  when  it  was 
laid  low  in  the  dust,  the  audience  could 
hardly  be  restrained  within  the  bounds  of  de- 
cency— all  seemed  to  feel  and  to  verify  the 
words  of  our  great  moralist,  "  The  blameless 
life,  the  artless  tenderness,  the  pious  simpli- 
city, the  modest  resignation,  the  patient  sick- 
ness, the  quiet  death,  are  remembered  only 


to  add  value  to  the  loss,  and  to  deepen  sorrow 
for  what  cannot  be  recalled." 

Many  who  never  heard  him,  came  to  be- 
dew his  grave.  Persons  of  religious  senti- 
ments, widely  different  from  his  own,  opened 
their  houses  to  accommodate  those  who  came 
from  a  distance.  The  rector,  with  a  libe- 
rality of  mind,  and  tenderness  of  heart,  that 
did  him  honour,  apologized  for  his  inability  to 
attend,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  The  funeral  of 
the  ever  to  be  lamented  Mr.  Winter."  At- 
tendants who  had  waited  upon  him ;  the  driver 
at  the  inn  who  had  carried  him  to  his  house, 
when  he  fractured  his  bone,  the  coachman 
that  had  drove  him  home,  when  he  was  seized 
for  death  at  the  house  of  his  friend — all  seem- 
ed glad  to  remember,  and  to  divulge,  any  lit- 
tle kindness  they  had  shown  him. 

Two  very  impressive  sermons  were  preach- 
ed in  the  evening  of  the  day,  by  Mr.  Lowell 
and  Mr.  Thorp,  of  Bristol ;  and  on  the  follow- 
ing Sabbath,  all  the  ministers  in  Gloucester- 
shire agreed  to  improve  the  Providence  in 
their  own  congregations.  This  was  done  also 
by  his  students,  and  by  several  ministers  in 
other  countries.  Two  only  of  these  discourses 
were  published,*  but  the  number  would  have 
been  considerably  enlarged,  had  it  not  been 
from  a  needless  delicacy  with  regard  to  the 
intended  publication  of  his  life. 

Mr.  Winter  was  only  turned  of  sixty-five ; 
but  his  looks  and  walk  had  even  long  before, 
led  many  to  suppose  that  he  was  much  more 
advanced  in  age.  His  person  was  rather 
above  the  middle  stature.  He  was  inclinable 
to  corpulency.  His  face  was  marked  with  the 
small  pox,  but  not  disagreeably  so.  His  eye 
was  uncommonly  mild  and  risible.  His  coun- 
tenance was  all  benign. 

There  is  no  very  good  likeness  of  him. 
That  in  the  Evangelical  Magazine  did  him 
no  justice;  that  in  the  Theological,  disgraced 
him.  The  image  of  his  placid  and  heavenly 
features  will  long  remain  in  many  a  fond 
memory.  May  the  image  of  his  character 
remain  longer  still,  and  be  more  vividly  re- 
called— especially  by  those  that  enjoyed  the 
advantage  of  his  tuition.  May  it  be  present 
with  them  alone,  and  in  company :  in  the  fa- 
mily and  in  the  church ;  may  they  be  follow- 
ers of  him  as  dear  children  ! 

An  extract  containing  the  preface  to  his 
will,  may  gratify  his  friends. 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  Amen.  I,  Cornelius 
Winter,  of  Painswick,  in  the  county  of  Glou- 
cester, minister  of  the  gospel,  being  of  sound 
disposing  mind,  memory,  and  understanding, 
thanks  unto  the  Lord  for  the  same,  do  make  this 
my  last  will  and  testament,  as  follows ;  that 
is  to  say,  I  commit  my  soul  into  the  hands  of 
God,  gratefully  acknowledging  his  discrimi- 
nating grace,  of  which  he  made  me  an  early 

*  The  one  by  Mr.  Hishop,  of  Gloucester;  the  nther  by 
Mr.  Goldirtg,  of  Fulwood,  who  had  been  one  of  his  se- 
I  cond  class  of  pupils. 


62 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER, 


partaker,  and  by  which  I  escaped  many  tempo- 
ral and  moral  evils,  and  have  had  life  sweet- 
ened, and  the  trials  of  it  rendered  supportable. 
Whenever  it  pleases  him  to  call  me,  I  would 
die  in  a  humble,  but  firm,  confidence  in  Jesus, 
as  my  Redeemer;  renouncing  all  pretensions 
to  merit,  in  any  thing  1  have  done,  lamenting 
the  imperfections  of  which  I  am  conscious, 
and  many  which  my  understanding  has  not 
discovered,  in  hope  of  a  blessed  resurrection 
with  his  redeemed  people,  in  the  day  when 
they  shall  be  gathered  together,  &c. 


CHAPTER  III. 

VIEWS  OF  HIS  CHARACTER. 

To  consider  Mr.  Winter  personally  and 
relatively,  in  private  and  in  public  life;  to 
give,  if  not  a  finished  portrait,  yet  a  sketch 
of  his  leading  features,  so  as  to  enable  the 
reader  to  distinguish  and  estimate  his  worth 
— is  the  design  of  this  part  of  our  subject. 
And  if  the  power  of  representation  were  al- 
ways the  same  with  the  possession  of  know- 
ledge, the  Editor  might  hope  to  succeed; 
having  had  from  domestic  residence,  and  the 
most  unreserved  intercourse  and  correspond- 
ence, peculiar  opportunities  of  acquaintance 
and  observation. 

Let  us  first  glance  at  Mr.  Winter's  ta- 
lents and  acquisitions! 

He  was  not  possessed  of  first-rate  natural 
endowments;  but  it  is  equally  certain  that  he 
claimed  a  considerable  degree  of  mental  su- 
periority. His  apprehension  was  quick,  his 
judgment  was  accurate;  and  his  imagination, 
though  not  vigorous  and  bold,  was  fertile  and 
ready.  No  one  could  more  nicely  or  instant- 
aneously discriminate  the  defects  or  excel- 
lencies of  a  performance ;  but  his  candour  and 
self-diffidence  generally  repressed  the  decla- 
ration of  his  sentiments.  If  genius  be  used  in 
a  limited  and  rather  modern  sense  of  the  word, 
as  denoting  peculiarity  and  individuality  of 
thought  and  expression,  Mr.  Winter  had  a 
considerable  claim  to  it.  He  always  lamented 
the  want  of  memory.  It  might  be  supposed, 
that  a  man  must  be  certainly  conscious  whe- 
ther he  is  really  deficient  in  this  faculty  or 
habit.  Yet  I  am  persuaded  the  complaint  is 
too  general,  and  helps  much  to  produce  the 
effect  it  bewails.  The  memory,  like  a  friend, 
loves  to  be  trusted,  and  rewards  confidence. 
No  man  will  be  satisfied  who  measures  his 
power  of  retention  by  his  wishes:  and  the 
memory  should  not  be  censured  because  it 
does  not  lodge  every  thing  it  meets  with,  and 
which  would  produce  superfluity  and  confu- 
sion.— The  goodness  of  it  very  much  consists 
in  an  instinctive  property,  by  which  it  throws 
off  what  is  needless  and  unsuitable,  and  ap- 
plies only  what  is  pertinent  and  necessary. 
And  this  was  the  case,  at  least,  in  a  great 
degree,  with  Mr.  Winter:  whether  writing 
or  speaking  he  never  seemed  at  a  loss  for 


what  the  occasion  required,  either  to  confirm 
or  illustrate  his  subject. 

With  regard  to  his  learning  it  has  already 
appeared  that  he  was  destitute  of  a  classical 
education,  and  began  his  ministry  under  very 
great  disadvantages.  Though  this  could  not 
be  considered  as  his  fault,  he  felt  it  as  his 
affliction;  and  never  resembled  those  who 
depreciate  what  they  do  not  possess,  and  are 
not  willing  to  acquire.  Never  did  a  man  more 
value  erudition,  in  all  its  various  branches, 
and  for  all  its  legitimate  purposes;  never  did 
a  man  strive  more  patiently  and  laboriously 
to  gain  literature.  And  his  acquisitions,  con- 
sidered in  connexion  with  his  circumstances, 
were  eminent.  He  had  more  than  a  compe- 
tent knowledge  of  the  original  languages, 
and  read  the  Scriptures  in  them.  He  well 
understood  the  Latin  tongue,*  and  made  pro- 
ficiency in  the  French.  His  acquaintance 
with  general  science,  though  not  profound, 
was  extensive.  He  knew  no  luxury  so  great 
as  a  book :  his  reading  was  constant  and  di- 
versified. 

Let  us,  secondly,  notice  him  as  a  Tutor: 
Here  we  have  to  view  him  as  the  master 
of  a  school,  and  as  the  president  of  an  acade- 
my. Nothing  could  have  been  more'  unex- 
pected than  his  introduction  to  each  of  these 
kinds  of  tuition. 

For  several  years,  while  at  Marlborough, 
he  had  the  care  of  youth  intended  for  civil 
life.  The  number  of  boarders  was  never  very 
large,  but  this  was  not  for  want  of  applica- 
tions, which  he  found  it  difficult  to  reject. 
With 'what  views  and  dispositions  he  attend- 
ed to  this  branch  of  duty  ;  and  how  anxious 
he  was,  while  qualifying  them  for  secular 
stations,  to  train  them  up  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord,  appears  from  the  fol- 
lowing extract  of  a  letter  written  to  the  father 
of  one  of  his  first  pupils.  "  No  pains  shall  be 
wanting  to  prepare  him  for  a  life  of  useful- 
ness. The  care  of  youth  should  be  conscien- 
tiously undertaken ;  and  though  I  find  it,  with 
my  ministerial  services,  a  life  of  great  labour, 
I  can  truly  say,  I  set  myself  to  it  with  a  deal 
of  cheerfulness.  It  may  in  some  sort  be  con- 
sidered as  an  observation  of  our  dear  Lord's 
command,  '  Feed  my  lambs.'  If  we  attend  to 
them  wholly,  that  is,  to  their  souls  as  well  as 
to  their  bodies,  they  will  not  admit  of  our 
living  an  idle  life.  Happy  they,  who,  in  what- 
ever line  of  duty  the  Providence  of  God  places 
them,  are  enabled  to  perform  the  part  of  a 
wise  steward.  You  as  well  as  myself,  and 
all  who  profess  the  religion  of  the  dear  Lord 
Jesus,  are  under  an  obligation  to  fill  up  our 
place  with  a  regard  to  his  glory :  but  we  shall 
meet  with  many  impediments,  and  they  are 
not  to  be  surmounted  but  by  watchfulness 
and  prayer.    May  we  continue  in  these  sa- 

*  The  Editor  has  in  his  possession  his  Latin  corres- 
pondence with  Professor  Warren,  of  Linden,  in  West- 
phalia, during  the  residence  of  one  of  his  pupils  Ulldi  r 
liis  care. 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


68 


cred  exercises ;  and  be  sure  to  connect  thanks- 
giving with  them  for  all  the  mercies  of  our 
lives.  Many  of  these  lie  concealed  under 
trials  and  disappointments ;  yea,  many  of  them 
consist  of  these  very  things:  they  may  be 
grevious  to  be  borne,  but  they  will  prove  pro- 
fitable in  the  end." 

The  pupil  whom  the  letter  concerns,  in 
transmitting  it,  referring  to  "  The  happy  pe- 
riod" of  his  being  placed  under  his  care, 
writes  "I  say  happy  because  though  at  the 
tender  age  of  only  eight  years,  my  memory 
still  records  many  instances  of  his  more  than 
parental  kindness ;  and  I  trust  his  affection- 
ate solicitude  for  the  promotion  of  my  best 
interests,  has  had  a  salutary  influence  upon 
my  subsequent  conduct  and  character."  I 
cannot  refuse  inserting — "  Return  the  letters 
I  have  sent  as  soon  as  possible.  They  will 
often  afford  me  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  the 
review ;  and  enable  me  to  enjoy  a  sort  of 
mental  converse  with  the  ever  to  be  lament- 
ed writer,  though  he  has  passed  the  confines 
of  mortality."  This  is  only  one  instance  of 
the  obligation  and  attachment  felt  and  ac- 
knowledged by  numbers  more. 

In  teaching  the  young,  that  which  is  so  re- 
quisite, is  not  a  vastness  of  talent,  but  a  pe- 
culiarity of  disposition.  It  is  a  temper  com- 
pounded of  affection  and  patience ;  it  is  a 
temper  that  blends  mildness  with  firmness, 
and  inspires  rather  than  commands ;  it  is  a 
temper  that,  like  the  genial  rays  of  spring, 
warms,  revives,  opens, — not  like  the  stern 
severity  of  the  winter-day  that  chills,  freezes, 
and  binds;  it  is  a  temper  that  will  not  produce 
timidity  by  eagerness  of  importunity,  or  con- 
fusion by  hastiness  of  censure ;  a  temper  that 
will  prevent  discouragement  in  reaching  a 
remote  distance  by  not  discovering  too  much 
at  once ;  and  that  teaches  the  receiver  as  he 
is  able  to  bear  it. 

Some  have  supposed  that  it  was  the  design 
of  our  Lord  to  furnish  a  motiv  e  rather  than  a 
model,  when  he  said,  "Learn  of  me  for  I  am 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart."  As  if  he  had  said, 
"  Be  not  afraid  to  place  yourselves  under  my 
tuition  ;  my  condescension  equals  my  ability ; 
I  will  bear  with  your  weaknesses ;  and  my 
gentleness  shall  make  you  great."  Never 
had  a  human  being  so  much  of  this  quali- 
fication as  Mr.  Winter.  And  this  appear- 
ed in  another  and  a  higher  department  of 
education. 

In  training  up  young  men  for  the  work  of 
the  ministry,  he  did  not  precisely  conform  to 
the  common  method  of  education  in  the  semi- 
naries of  Protestant  Dissenters.  It  could 
hardly  be  deemed  necessary.  He  seldom  had 
more  than  three  or  four  at  the  same  time. 
The  formalities  of  an  academy  would  of  course 
be  much  dispensed  with,  and  conversation  and 
reading  supply  a  series  of  lectures.  He  was 
a  father  with  his  sons,  rather  than  a  tutor 
with  his  students.    They  were  almost  con- 


stantly with  him  ;  he  was  always  familiarly 
instructing  them;  and  the  love  he  inspired 
was  such  as  to  endear  every  thing  he  said. 
Whether  they  were  walking  in  the  field,  or 
sitting  in  the  house ;  at  the  fire-side  in  the 
evening,  or  at  the  table  at  meals,  improve- 
ment was  blended  with  pleasure.  Reading 
always  attended  the  hours  of  breakfast  and 
tea,  intermingled  with  remarks  derived  from 
the  subject  It  was  no  unusual  thing  for  one 
of  his  students  to  accompany  him  in  his  visits 
to  the  chamber  of  sickness,  and  the  house  of 
mourning:  he  knew  that  young  men  should 
be  sober-minded ;  and  that  by  the  sadness  of 
the  countenance,  the  heart  is  made  better. 
To  prepare  them  for  social  and  edifying  inter- 
course, they  also  frequently  attended  him  in 
his  friendly  visits.  They  sometimes  joined 
him  in  his  preaching  excursions.  There  are 
few  things  in  my  life  that  I  can  remember 
with  so  much  melting  pleasure,  as  my  going 
with  him — walking  by  the  side  of  his  little 
horse,  and  occasionally  riding — on  a  fine 
summer's  evening,  into  a  neighbouring  vil- 
lage, and  returning  again  the  same  night,  or 
very  early  in  the  morning.  In  these  instances 
I  was  required  to  take  sometimes  a  part,  and 
sometimes  the  whole  of  the  service ;  but  it 
was  a  privilege  rather  than  a  task,  to  do  any 
thing  before  him.  He  heard  our  discourses 
and  prayers  with  the  greatest  tenderness,  and 
beamed  with  pleasure  at  every  presage  of  im- 
provement. A  backwardness  to  notice  imper- 
fections was  his  extreme ;  he  loved  to  com- 
mend ;  it  was  hardly  in  his  power  to  find 
fault.  Yet  though  his  approbation  seemed 
easily  gained,  it  was  not  rendered  the  less 
desirable.  It  was  delicious  to  enjoy  it,  and 
therefore  it  always  supplied  a  stimulus. 

He  engaged  his  students  to  preach  very 
early  after  they  were  with  him.  This  arose 
partly  from  the  state  of  the  neighbourhood, 
which  wanted  help.  Souls  were  perishing  for 
lack  of  knowledge,  and  they  who  could  not  as 
yet  hope  for  acceptance  in  large  and  polite 
audiences  were  able  to  show  the  way  of  sal- 
vation to  those  who  were  generally  more  de- 
ficient than  themselves.  But  I  believe  it  also 
resulted  from  his  conviction  of  the  propriety 
of  the  measure,  independent  of  this  necessity. 
He  imagined  the  sooner  the  young  men  began, 
the  more  facility  and  confidence  they  would 
acquire  ;  and  that  it  would  be  less  embarrass- 
ing and  discouraging  to  commence  before  all 
their  deficiencies  were  known,  than  to  start 
with  the  full  disclosure :  that  it  was  better 
for  them  to  encounter  difficulties  one  by  one, 
as  they  became  sensible  of  them,  than  to  begin 
trembling  under  their  united  impression.  It 
is  to  be  remembered  also,  that  they  officiated 
at  first  only  in  private  places,  and  rustic  con- 
gregations. It  unquestionably  gave  them  ad- 
vantages as  preachers  ;  but  it  broke  in  upon 
their  studies  as  pupils.  Some  of  the  villages 
they  served  were  at  a  considerable  distance : 


64  MEMOIRS  OF 

their  traveling  occupied  their  time,  and  its 
engagements  diverted  their  attention.  Upon 
the  whole,  and  after  mature  reflection,  I 
should  prefer  the  method  he  adopted  to  any 
other.  It  tended  to  keep  the  heart  in  the 
things  of  God,  and  to  preserve  the  savour  of 
religion  on  the  mind,  which  it  is  well  known, 
is  easily  destroyed,  where  all  the  studies  are 
purely  intellectual,  and  several  young  men 
of  vivacity  and  emulation  are  blended  to- 
gether. 

And  the  preservation  of  spirituality  is  of 
great  importance  where  the  office  is  sacred : 
of  this  Mr.  Winter  never  lost  sight.  He  was 
always  feeding  and  cherishing  the  piety,  as 
well  as  promoting  the  literary  improvement 
of  those  who  were  under  his  care.  He  con- 
stantly reminded  them  of  the  absolute  neces- 
sity of  personal  religion ;  and  endeavoured  to 
keep  alive  a  sense  of  their  dependence  on  God, 
for  the  preservation  and  the  increase  of  their 
powers,  and  the  success  of  their  applications 
and  exertions.  Often  when  we  have  been 
perfectly  alone,  and  were  going  to  read  even 
a  book  on  general  subjects  only,  he  has  prayed 
a  few  moments  himself,  or  required  me  to  do 
it ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  all  his  students 
can  testify  the  same  practice  in  their  private 
intercourse  with  him  individually.  Indeed 
if  nothing  of  this  kind  was  engaged  in  for- 
mally, it  was  impossible  not  to  feel  devoutly 
while  near  him  :  his  presence  was  the  very 
element  of  piety. 

To  illustrate  this  kind  of  attention  which 
he  paid  as  a  tutor,  I  shall  introduce  a  few  ex- 
tracts from  his  letters.  If  I  take  them  from 
his  correspondence  with  me,  while  I  was 
more  immediately  his  charge,  it  is  not  to  in- 
sinuate that  his  regards  were  less  peculiar  to- 
wards others,  but  because  I  am  only  possessed 
of  materials  to  exemplify  his  pious  care  in  this 
one  instance. 

"  Dear  Billy, — Among  the  various  things 
which  employ  my  thoughts,  your  coming  to 
Marlborough  is  one.  I  hope  in  time  it  will 
be  brought  about,  and  that  you  will  pray  for 
the  blessing  of  God  upon  our  designs  and  en- 
deavours. You  will  not  forget  the  object  we 
have  in  view — it  is  to  prepare  you  for,  and 
to  introduce  you  into  the  service  of  the  sanc- 
tuary ;  in  which  service  that  you  act  proper- 
ly, and  shine  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  be  use- 
ful to  your  fellow-mortals,  it  is  necessary  that 
you  should  be  devotedly  given  up  in  heart 
and  life  to  God  himself.  If  you  are  not  really 
converted  yourself,  you  will  talk  very  awk- 
wardly about  conversion  to  others.  If  you  do 
not  love  Jesus,  you  will  want  a  most  power- 
ful constraint  to  preach  him  as  the  only  Lord 
God  and  Saviour.  Pray  therefore  for  a  re- 
newed heart,  if  you  have  it  not  already ;  and 
for  a  growth  in  grace,  if  that  divine  principle 
is  already  implanted. — Then  you  will  enter 
all  upon  necessary  studies  like  a  devoted  and 


C.  WINTER. 

dependent  youth  whoso  every  moment  will 
discover  holiness  to  the  Lord.  You  will  then 
be  prepared  to  partake  of  the  afflictions  of  the 
gospel,  and  enjoy  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
blessings  God  may  graciously  confer  upon 
you  to  his  praise.  I  am,  my  dear  Billy,  your 
affectionate  friend,  0.  W. 

"Marlborough,  January  21,  1785." 

The  above  is  part  of  the  first  letter  I  ever 
received  from  him. 


In  another,  dated  Bristol,  Tuesday  night, 
(past  eleven  o'clock,)  he  writes — 

"  Your  way  to  Tisbury  seems  open.  On 
the  1st  of  October,  if  life  and  health  are 
spared,  you  are  appointed  to  preach  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ,  in  the  village 
where  you  first  drew  your  breath,  and  often 
since  have  evidenced  yourself  to  be  a  sinner. 
Indulge  suitable  meditation,  and  pray  that 
you  may  go  with  a  holy  caution  upon  your 
spirit,  fearing  lest  while  you  preach  to  others, 
you  yourself  should  be  cast  away.  By  the 
thought  that  this  may  be  the  case,  I  am 
awakened  out  of  my  sleepy  frame,  and  ex- 
hort you,  my  dear  youth,  on  no  consideration 
to  take  up  with  preaching  merely  as  a  sci- 
ence ;  enter  upon  it  as  a  work  of  the  last  im- 
portance, and  in  the  discharge  of  it,  respect 
your  own  salvation,  as  well  as  the  salvation 
of  those  who  hear  you.  I  do  not  write  as 
suspecting  your  sincerity,  but  as  knowing  the 
depravity  of  the  human  heart,  I  warn  you. 
On  my  journey,  I  have  been  examining  my 
heart,  and  reviewing  my  conduct,  and  have 
found  myself  very  deficient  in  exhorting  and 
praying  with  you.  I  hope  when  you  return, 
to  amend  this  omission,  and  trust  you  will 
be  the  better  for  it;  neither  be  presumptuous 
nor  too  diffident,  but  go  on  praying  and  de- 
pending on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  may  he  be 
with  you.  Meet  my  wishes  with  your  en- 
deavours, and  you  will  find  me  to  be  yours, 
very  affectionately,  &c." 


In  another,  dated  Bristol,  November  3, 1778 : 
"  It  gave  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  from 
you  yesterday.  I  have  not  time  to  write  to 
you  in  Latin,  nor  indeed  much  in  English.  I 
am  happy  to  hear  all  is  well  at  home,  and 
much  desire  to  be  with  you. — I  pray  the  ex- 
ercise of  your  soul  may  be  sanctified  to  you, 
and  that  by  every  means  you  may  be  kept 
humble  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  O  my  dear 
Billy,  be  clothed  with  humility,  and  you  will 
then  be  happy  and  useful.  God  resisteth  the 
proud,  but  giveth  grace  to  the  humble.  Many 
kind  inquiries  are  made  after  you." 


In  another,  dated  Marlborough,  July  4, 
1788: 

« I  am  breaking  off  from  the  sermon  I  am 


1118  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


65 


composing  for  Mr.  Hancock's  funeral,  who 
was  buried  yesterday,  on  purpose  to  drop  you 
a  line.  Ever  since  I  received  yours,  1  have 
been  in  hurry  and  confusion.  1  am  absolutely 
going  from  Marlborough,  and  have  a  fair 
prospect  of  settling  at  Painswick,  in  Glou- 
cestershire. There  1  shall  bo  glad  to  see  you, 
and  as  often  as  may  be  convenient  and  pru- 
dent, will  exchange  pulpits  with  you.  You 
are  much  upon  my  heart,  and  I  think  upon 
you  with  joy,  with  fear,  and  trembling.  You 
must  expect  enemies,  and  look  for  persons 
who  will  not  take  a  little  pains  to  invalidate 
your  labours.  1  have  had  information  of  the 
advice  Mr.  Cecil  gave  you;  it  was  truly  im- 
portant, and  equally  true  the  remark  he  made 
at  the  same  time.  Let  nobody  spend  an  af- 
ternoon with  you,  nor  do  you  spend  so  much 
time  with  any  one,  if  you  can  help  it.  Be 
sure  to  preserve  some  time  for  attending  to 
Latin  and  (J reek;  and  by  carrying  your  wits 
about  you,  get  a  knowledge  of  men  and 
things,  as  well  as  pay  a  close  application  to 
books.  Preserve  your  modesty,  and  walk 
with  great  caution  and  circumspection.  I 
wish  1  was  at  your  elbow,  I  could  say  many 
things  I  cannot  enter  upon  now.  Tune  for- 
bids my  enlarging.  May  God  keep  and  smile 
upon  you,  and  cause  all  grace  to  abound  to- 
wards you." 


In  another,  dated  Burford,  July  9,  1788  : 

"I  dare  say  you  received  my  short  line 
by  Mr.  Stump.  I  wish  I  could  have  written 
to  you  more  largely  and  explicitly,  but  the 
hurry  I  have  been  in  all  the  last  week  is 
scarcely  to  be  conceived  of.  I  have  had  two 
providential  opportunities  to  hear  of  you,  and 
am  thankful  to  hear  you  are  acceptable;  I 
hope  the  Lord  will  continue  to  make  you 
daily  so,  and  keep  you  low  and  humble  be- 
fore him !  You  will  want  a  great  deal  of 
wisdom,  and  had  need  ply  hard  to  alt  kinds 
of  studies  which  are  subservient  to  the  mi- 
nistry, and  immediately  connected  with  it. 
Prayer,  much  prayer  to  God,  is  of  great  con- 
sequence to  you.  Keep  as  much  as  you  can, 
from  contracting  epistolary  correspondence. 
Let  your  letters  be  as  few  as  possible;  yet 
here  you  had  need  be  careful,  lest  you  should 
overlook  essential  friendship.    Pay  all  due 

respect  to   ,  and  keep  a  very  close 

tongue.  I  preached  Mr.  Hancock's  funeral 
sermon,  on  last  Lord's  day,  in  the  afternoon. 
If  I  could  help  it,  I  would  go  no  more  to 
Marlborough.  O  that  you  could  meet  with 
some  godly  young  man  to  fill  up  my  place 
there !  My  heart  aches  for  the  people, 
though  they  have  used  me  so  very  ill.  I 
hope  God  will  provide  for  them,  and  not  suf- 
fer them  to  be  given  up. — I  hope  when  you 
return,  the  country  will  afford  you  much 
comfort  and  opportunity  lor  study,  and  that 
I  0* 


opportunity  will  be  well  improved.  I  am  at 
present  exercised  with  many  trials,  and  hope 
they  will  be  sanctified.  It' you  can  entertain 
me  with  any  little  news,  do.  God  bless  you, 
&c." 


7/i  another,  dated  Marlborough,  July 
1788: 

"  If  you  really  have  performed  your  ap- 
pointment  for  Mr.  Hill,  I  would  advise  you 
In  attend  to  no  farther  invitations,  but.  leave 
London  immediately.  Come  into  the  coun- 
try to  pray  and  reflect,  and  wherever  you  go, 
set  the  picture  of  your  mortality  before  you; 
and  consider  that  he  who  has  raised  you  can 
sink  you,  and  will,  unless  you  give  him  the 
glory  of  the  gills  he  has  given  to  you.  You  will 
take  this  hint  kind ;  it  intends  no  reflection. 
Write,  or  come  to  Painswick,  when  you  can, 
and  by  the  first  opportunity.  I  long  for  a 
little  quietude  and  retirement,  but  above  all, 
for  that  which  will  come  in  due  time.  Till 
then  I  hope  for  grace  to  persevere  in  every 
Christian  duty,  and  to  prove  myself,  by  every 
means  in  my  power,  yours,  &.c." 


In  another,  dated   Wolton,  September  7, 
1788: 

"I  a  little  indulged  the  hope  of  seeing 
you  last  week,  but  I  acknowledge  it  proceed- 
ed more  from  a  kind  parental  fondness  than 
from  a  hope  founded  in  reason.  I  hope  you 
are  well,  and  busily  gathering  store  into  your 
hive  from  the  various  flowers  upon  which  you 
light  May  all  savour  of  grace,  and  termi- 
nate in  the  glory  of  the  great  and  good  God, 
whom  to  serve,  I  trust  we  shall  never  cease; 
and  of  whose  service,  I  pray  we  may  never 
be  weary  till  we  are  stretched  in  our  coffins. 
Since  God  has  given  you  ability  for  his  good 
work,  keep  yourself  at  liberty  for,  and  in  it. 
I  bless  myself  in  my  heart,  that  you  are  out 
of  London.  If  I  was  to  study  your  reputa- 
tion, more  than  the  glory  of  God,  I  would 
advise  you  to  take  the  same  steps;  but  as 
the  glory  of  God  is  concerned,  and  your  eye 
is  single  to  it,  I  more  confidently  rejoice.  _  I 
do  not  wish  you  to  spend  your  days  in  Chris- 
tian-malfbrd,  at  the  same  time  I  am  glad  it  is 
a  retreat  for  you.  The  idea  of  a  young  man 
grasping  at  lucrative  baits,  is  contemptible, 
and  I  suspect  the  gospel  has  not  suffered  a 
little  from  such  instances ;  on  the  other  hand, 
neglect  of  wealth,  indifference  to  it,  and  pre- 
ferment given  to  poverty  and  obscurity,  puts 
lustre  upon  a  religious  character,  especially 
with  popular  £rifts ;  profane  history  gives  us 
many  and  striking  instances  of  what  I  say. 
And  we  cannot  speak  with  weight  upon 
divine  things;  but  as  our  practice  confirms 
our  doctrine." 


66 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


In  another,  dated  Painswick,  May  8, 1789  : 

"  Wonder  not  that  I  have  not  written  to 
you  before.  My  heart  and  my  hands  have 
been  full,  and  though  I  have  often  thought 
of  you,  I  have  lost  you  in  a  cloud,  which  I 
hoped  Providence  would  disperse.  I  doubted 
not  but  that  I  should  find  you  again,  and  that 
my  bowels  would  be  refreshed  by  thee. 
How  glad  am  I  that  it  is  your  design  to  be 
at  Painswick,  my  prison,  my  palace  of  plea- 
sure and  of  praise,  next  Thursday.  Pray 
start  immediately  after  breakfast,  and  be  not 
surprised  if  you  meet  me  in  lord  Ducie's 
wood,  or  on  Selsley.  Somewhere,  I  will 
strive  to  meet  you,  if  the  weather  be  not 
very  foul.  Then,  if  I  can,  I  will  tell  you 
how  I  was  bereaved  of  dear  Thomas.  I  feel 
under  the  Providence,  but  am  not  miserable. 
He  was  an  idol  torn  from  me,  and  I  yield 
him  up,  from  a  conviction  I  have  done  wrong, 
and  God  has  done  right.  Do  not  omit  to  im- 
prove upon  it.  God  has  given  you  a  tongue, 
and  an  early  commission  to  use  it;  let  the 
heart  dictate  to  it,  and  may  the  Spirit  dictate 
to  the  heart.  Live  while  you  live ;  it  is  but 
a  little  while  you  have  to  live.  '  Work 
while  it  is  called  to-day ;  the  night  cometh 
when  no  man  can  work.'  With  an  heart 
enlarged  to  you  beyond  what  words  can  ex- 
press, I  am,  &c." 


In  another,  dated  Painswick,  Nov.  21, 1789 : 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  know  where  to  direct 
to  you.  Were  it  not  to  you  it  would  be  no 
pleasure  to  write,  for  I  am  tired.  I  long  to 
see  you,  not  for  the  sake  of  hearing  news, 
but  because  I  love  you.  What  a  noise  have 
you  made  in  the  world !  How  many  eyes 
are  upon  you.  How  many  hearts  fear  for 
you !  How  many  envy  you  ! — I  hope  you 
are  in  the  possession  of  heavenly  enjoyments, 
and  walking  comfortably  in  the  good  ways 
of  God.  These  are  your  best  days,  make 
much  of  them,  and  by  your  indifference  to 
yourself,  and  that  holy  negligence  which  is 
a  bright  ornament,  and  necessary  to  blunt 
the  edge  of  even  kind  suspicion,  show  that 
you  can  be  popular  without  being  proud. 
The  church  as  well  as  the  world  looks  with 
a  jealous  eye  upon  the  young  minister  of 
the  day,  and  especially  upon  those  who  have 
no  paternal  property  to  support  gay  appear- 
ance.— Mr.  Thornton,  in  a  letter  of  Thurs- 
day, says,  '  The  prevalent  attention  to  dress 
and  outward  appearance  feeds  the  pride,  and 
ruins  more  than  half  our  young  ministers. 
Even  awkwardness,  if  it  tends  to  humble 
them,  is  desirable ;  for  whatismoreodiousthan 
a  finical,  conceited,  dressed  up,  young  minis- 
ter, that  thinks  he  is  the  mighty  orator.  I 
would  never  wish  ministers  to  be  slovenly, 
but  I  had  rather  see  them  in  worsted  hose, 
than  in  nice  silk  stockings,  and  would  prefer 


such  as  drink  water  and  small  liquors,  to 
those  who  cannot  do  without  wine  and  spirits.' 
I  write  not  this  to  reproach  you,  but  as  my 
most  dearly  beloved,  to  caution  and  warn 
you.  I  know  you  will  take  it  as  an  evidence 
of  my  right  to  subscribe  myself,  ever  yours, 
affectionately,  &c." 

I  have  taken  an  extract  or  two  from  letters 
addressed  to  me  after  my  removal  from  him. 
I  could  have  added  to  their  number  greatly ; 
for  his  fatherly  care  never  declined.  When 
his  students  left  him,  he  followed  them  with 
his  prayers  and  advice ;  he  watched  over 
them  with  a  godly  jealousy,  and  cautioned, 
warned,  exhorted,  encouraged  them,  accord- 
ing as  their  circumstances  required.  They 
were  always  welcome  to  his  house  as  visit- 
ants ;  and  nothing  could  afford  him  greater 
delight  than  to  see  any  of  them  in  his  pulpit, 
and  to  witness  the  fruit  of  his  labours.  He 
has  often  been  seen  standing  the  whole  ser- 
mon with  eager  attention,  and  pleasure 
glistening  through  his  tears. 

I  would  only  add  that  he  was  peculiarly 
attentive  to  the  behaviour  and  manners  of  his 
young  men.  No  person  ever  valued  more 
than  he  did,  the  moralities  and  proprieties  of 
life  in  all  its  relations  and  conditions.  This 
is  not  always  the  case.  Some  of  those  who 
are  very  zealous  for  what  they  call  the  power 
of  godliness,  trample  upon  its  external  forms, 
and  circumstantial  appendages,  which  yet 
are  often,  not  only  ornamental,  but  highly 
useful.  Taken  up  with  great  things  they 
overlook  little  ones;  not  considering  that 
what  is  little  in  one  view,  may  be  great  in 
another;  that  what  is  little  in  its  abstract 
being,  may  be  great  in  its  consequences,  and 
its  connexions.  In  this  view  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  know  what  is  unimportant,  espe- 
cially in  moral  conduct,  and  in  public  office. 
Are  there  no  instances  to  be  found  of  cha- 
racters whose  excellency  has  been  obscured, 
and  whose  usefulness  has  been  injured — per- 
haps, ruined,  by  little  levities,  familiarities, 
indulgences,  and  inconsistencies,  which  the 
severest  casuist  could  not  construe  into  posi- 
tive crime  1  But  it  has  been  said  with  equal 
truth  and  beauty,  "  That  the  character  of  a 
minister  is  like  that  of  a  female  :  to  be  sus- 
pected, is  almost  as  bad  as  to  be  guilty."* 
A  feather  discovers  the  direction  of  the  wind 
as  well  as  a  tree.  Our  Lord  in  sending 
forth  his  twelve  apostles  and  seventy  disci- 
ples issued  a  variety  of  maxims  and  admoni- 
tions, which,  were  they  to  be  delivered  now 
at  the  ordination  of  even  a  young  Evangelist, 
would  be  deemed  trifling.  It  was  the  advice 
of  Solomon,  "  Let  thine  eyes  look  straight 
on :" — "  Ponder  the  path  of  thy  feet,  and  thy 
goings  shall  be  established." 

Upon  these  principles  Mr.  Winter  entered 
into  the  detail  of  practice ;  and  adduced  in- 
stances to  exemplify  the  defects  of  the  ex- 
*  Clayton's  charge  at  the  ordination  of  Mr.  Brookbanks. 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


67 


cellencies  he  described.  It  was  an  object 
with  him  to  teach  them  how  to  appear  in  the 
parlour  as  well  as  the  pulpit.  He  did  not 
think  it  unnecessary  to  guard  them  against 
superfluous  wants,  and  unseemly  customs — 
against  the  sottish  and  offensive  habit  of 
smoking;  against  giving  trouble  where 
they  happened  to  lodge ;  against  keeping  up 
the  family  beyond  their  usual  time  of  repose ; 
against  inexactness  in  keeping  them  waiting 
at  meals ;  against  the  use  of  spirituous  li- 
quors; against  fondness  for  delicacies.  He 
did  not  think  it  needless  to  regulate  their 
deportment  towards  servants,  suggesting  the 
propriety  of  noticing  them,  as  well  as  the 
heads  of  the  family  in  morning  and  evening 
devotion.  It  will  be  naturally  concluded 
that  he  did  not  leave  them  uninstructed  in 
their  relation  to  female  society.  He  minute- 
ly specified  the  prudence  that  must  guide 
them  in  the  design  of  marriage ;  and  taught 
them  to  maintain  the  sacred  obligations 
arising  from  choice  and  engagement.  No- 
thing offended  him  more  than  the  versatility 
of  some  young  preachers,  who  seem  to  think 
they  have  a  right  to  trifle  as  they  please 
with  the  affections  and  characters  of  those 
they  address. 

He  knew  that  a  minister's  acceptance 
and  usefulness,  depended  as  much  upon  con- 
duct as  upon  talent ;  and  therefore  as  a  tutor 
he  knew  that  he  could  not  discharge  his 
office  by  teaching  them  how  to  decline  and 
conjugate ;  how  to  find  a  word  in  the  root 
and  follow  it  in  the  ramifications;  how  to 
form  a  syllogism  or  argue  without  it ;  how  to 
form  a  style,  and  use  the  figures  of  rhetoric, 
without  turning  their  attention  minutely, 
morally  and  practically  upon  themselves : — so 
that  they  should  leave  him  able  to  compose  a 
sermon,  but  not  to  form  a  character ;  filled 
with  science  and  empty  of  wisdom:  to  va- 
pour through  life  with  scraps  of  Latin  and 
Greek,  instead  of  being  wise  as  serpents  and 
harmless  as  doves. 

Let  us  not,  thirdly,  pass  over  him  as  a 

MINISTER. 

He  was  a  scribe  well  instructed  in  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  like  a  householder  he 
brought  forth  out  of  his  treasure,  things  new 
and  old.  He  had  a  vast  fund  of  scriptural 
and  experimental  knowledge;  and  few  ever 
furnished  so  great  a  variety  of  important  re- 
flections as  he  produced  in  his  ordinary  mi- 
nistrations. There  was  no  sameness  in  his 
discourses.  I  never  remember  to  have  heard 
a  repetition  of  the  same  illustration,  or 
even  the  same  phraseology.  The  principles 
lie  taught  were  those  which  he  originally 
received  when  he  heard  the  gospel  to  pur- 
.pose.  His  conviction  of  the  truth,  and  the 
importance  of  them,  strengthened  with  his 
years.  Hence  in  a  sermon  he  published  in 
1792,  he  affirm?,  "  I  am  so  far  from  repenting 
that  I  ever  embraced  them,  and  from  being 


ashamed  that  I  have  propagated  them  as  an 
itinerant  and  a  stated  minister,  that  I  shall 
bo  glad  to  subscribe  to  them  with  my  dying 
hand,  and  testify  to  them  with  my  expiring 
breath."  To  him,  they  appeared  not  only  as 
the  distinguishing  doctrines,  but  the  peculiar 
glory  of  revelation.  He  regarded  them  as 
affording  the  grand  desideratum  of  the  state 
of  man,  as  a  guilty,  depraved,  and  helpless 
creature.  They  had  the  most  holy  and  happy 
influence  upon  himself;  and  he  saw  that,  as 
they  are  denied  or  suppressed,  religion  lan- 
guishes for  want  of  life,  and  the  fruits  of  mo- 
rality and  good  works  sink  and  shrivel,  if  they 
do  not  immediately  drop  oft*  the  branches. 

Yet  he  did  not  preach  these  systems  syste- 
matically and  doctrinally,  so  much  as  in  their 
experimental  and  practical  bearings  and  re- 
sults. He  was  most  strictly  evangelical,  if 
that  means  to  preach — that  we  are  saved  by 
grace,  through  faith  and  that  not  of  ourselves; 
that  Christ  has  once  suffered  for  sins,  the  just 
for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  unto 
God ;  that  in  him  we  have  righteousness 
and  strength ;  that  his  sheep  hear  his  voice, 
and  shall  never  perish ;  that  every  moral 
duty  is  to  be  enforced  by  christian  motives. 

But  he  would  not  separate  principle  from 
practice;  he  would  not  treat  doctrines  as 
naked,  cold,  angry  propositions;  he  would 
not  be  always  harping  upon  two  or  three 
favourite  topics,  and  shun  a  large  proportion 
of  the  gospel  scheme ;  he  would  not  confine 
his  motion  to  a  circle,  like  a  blind  horse 
going  round  in  a  mill,  or  feed  like  an  ass 
tethered  in  a  paddock;  but  went  over  the 
whole  land  of  revelation,  in  the  length  and 
breadth  of  it. 

Neither  would  he  pervert  the  plain  and 
true  meaning  of  Scripture,  in  order  to  ac- 
commodate himself  to  the  taste  of  a  sound, 
or  rather  sickly  audience.  In  a  letter  to  a 
friend,  he  has  freely  expressed  himself  upon 
this  exceptionable  practice.  "In  our  last 
conversation  I  believe  you  misunderstood  me. 
I  have  no  treatise  upon  friendship ;  and  only 
intended  to  say  something  upon  it  in  my  ex- 
temporary way,  from  Proverbs  xvii.  17 — 'A 
friend  loveth  at  all  times.'  Some  were  dis- 
pleased ;  the  reason  is  because  I  did  not  vio- 
late the  text,  and  strike  out  a  doctrine  from 
it,  as  foreign  to  the  design  of  Solomon  in 
giving  it,  as  the  northern  and  southern  poles 
are  to  each  other.  Morality,  though  intro- 
duced in  its  proper  order,  and  fixed  in  its 
proper  place,  is  very  disgraceful  to  some  of 
our  evangelical  hearers,  who  are  very  far 
from  being  the  moral  men  themselves.  They 
are  never  pleased  with  any  thing,  but  that 
which  whips  up  their  frothy  passions  to  a 
very  strong  head ;  and  those  are  the  best 
preachers  in  their  estimation,  who  bring  the 
whisk  with  them  into  the  pulpit,  and  meet 
not  their  true  state,  but  their  inclination. 
Destitute  of  voice,  memory,  fancy,  and  above 


68 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


all,  of  a  wish  to  make  a  nose  of  wax  of  the 
text,  I  have  not  been  popular ;  if  in  any  de- 
gree I  have  been  useful,  God  shall  have  the 
glory  of  my  usefulness,  and  1  will  take  to 
myself  the  shame  of  all  my  defects.  I  am 
getting  pretty  far  in  life,  and  am  seized  with 
indispositions  common  to  most  old  men.  They 
do  me  no  harm,  though  they  put  me  to  pain, 
I  have  had  my  weaning,  and  am  weaned." 

Never  was  there  a  man  more  condescend- 
ing and  accommodating  where  duty  called, 
than  Mr.  Winter,  but  he  would  not  stoop  to 
vulgar  tricks ;  he  never  courted  popularity ; 
especially  where  the  acquisition  involves 
censure,  rather  than  confers  praise.  He 
would  no  more  sacrifice  his  judgment  than 
his  conscience,  in  letting  himself  down  to  a 
taste  which  he  knew  lie  ought  to  endeavour 
to  raise :  if  he  could  not  correct  it,  he  would 
bear  with  it,  but  would  never  indulge  it, 
never  sanction  it.  Much  might  have  been 
done  in  reforming  some  abuses,  if  all  minis- 
ters had  followed  his  example.  While 
classes  of  hearers,  remarkable  for  their  cap- 
tiousness,  and  ignorance,  meet  with  preach- 
ers that  seek  to  pay  homage  to  them,  either 
from  love  or  fear  they  will  feel  themselves 
of  importance. 

But  little  of  the  impression  he  made  as  a 
public  speaker,  was  derived  from  his  manner 
of  address.  He  was  venerable  in  the  pulpit, 
not  striking.  He  had  no  action.  His  voice 
was  not  very  clear  or  powerful;  his  utter- 
ance was  rather  slow  and  inanimated. 

He  frequently  preached  without  notes  ;  but 
more  generally  he  wrote  a  short  skeleton  ; 
and  sometimes  of  late  years  read  his  whole 
sermon. 

Various  are  the  ways  of  discussing  texts. 
The  Essay  mode  :  this  indeed  can  hardly  be 
said  to  treat  a  text  at  all,  and  was  probably 
introduced  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  or  as  the 
indignant  extreme  of  the  endless  multiplicity 
of  heads,  and  particulars  that  formerly  pre- 
vailed. The  Expository  :  which  explains  a 
portion  of  Scripture  as  it  lies,  intermixed 
with  practical  addresses,  in  the  process,  and 
sometimes  closed  with  general  reflections 
in  the  review.  The  Observational :  which 
peculiarly  applies  to  historical  passages,  and 
contains  a  succession  of  remarks,  founded  upon 
circumstances  which  require  improvement 
rather  than  explication.  The  Charactcristi- 
cal:  which  takes  for  its  subject  the  narrative 
of  an  individual,  and  holds  it.  up  to  view, 
marking  its  prominent  features,  to  excite  ad- 
miration or  aversion.  The  Topical :  which 
illustrates  a  theme  or  a  proposition  derived 
from  the  design  of  the  words,  regardless  of 
the  phraseology,  and  to  which  an  hundred 
texts  would  be  equally  applicable.  The 
Textual:  which  deduces  the  divisions  and 
materials  from  the  language  of  the  text.  All 
these  methods,  except  the  first,  Mr.  Winter 
occasionally  employed,  but  the  last  was  his 


common  one.  And  he  excelled  in  it.  How 
many  passages  of  Scripture  under  his  ma- 
nagement, were  rendered  peculiarly  instruc- 
tive, beautiful,  and  interesting. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  to  a  considerable  de- 
gree, he  was  obscure  and  perplexing :  there 
was  an  involution  of  plan,  an  intersection  of 
parts,  circuitous  exemplifications,  sentences 
too  long,  and  parentheses  too  frequent.  This 
was  his  greatest  imperfection ;  and  it  render- 
ed him  frequently  difficult  of  apprehension, 
especially  among  the  common  people.  Indeed, 
in  a  general  way,  persons  of  some  intellect 
and  taste  were  the  most  likely  to  approve  of 
his  labours:  for  when  most  happy  and  suc- 
cessful in  his  addresses,  there  were  beautiful 
transitions,  allusions,  and  illustrations,  too  re- 
fined for  ordinary  perception  and  relish. 

He  had  a  rich  acquaintance  with  the  Scrip- 
ture, and  his  sermons  abounded  with  the 
words  the  Holy  Ghost  uses,  admirably  inter- 
woven with  his  own. 

The  gravity  of  his  appearance,  and  the  ex- 
cellency of  his  character,  always  prepossessed 
people  in  his  favour,  and  disposed  them  to 
listen  to  him  with  attention ;  and  they  were 
amply  repaid. — He  very  much  excelled  on 
public,  and  particular  occasions;  such  as  fast 
days ;  days  of  thanksgiving ;  the  church  fes- 
tivals, which  he  commonly  observed ;  the 
seasons  of  the  year,  which  he  never  neglect- 
ed ;  and  deaths  in  his  congregation  and  neigh- 
bourhood, which  he  always  improved.  In 
these  performances  peculiarly,  though  not  ex- 
clusively, he  discovered  a  considerable  degree 
of  originality,  elegance,  and  ingenuity.  But 
I  fear  there  are  young  preachers  who  will 
affix  wrong  ideas  to  these  terms ;  as  it  is  cer- 
tain, others  have  been  already  led  astray  by 
their  mistakes  concerning  them.  I  avail  my- 
self therefore  of  the  opportunity  to  deliver  a 
few  thoughts  upon  a  subject  not  very  well 
understood  by  all  those  who  are  emulous  to 
excel. 

There  are  some  whose  whole  aim  seems 
to  terminate  in  their  being  original  preach- 
ers. They  must  have  something  new  ;  and 
in  order  to  find  it,  will  strike  out  into  the  un- 
important and  unprofitable.  What  is  solid 
and  useful  is  often  rejected,  because  it  is 
common  and  well  known.  But  it  should  be 
remembered  that  usefulness  is  the  end  of 
preaching — that  the  most  common  truths  are 
the  most  profitable — that  our  hearers  are  al- 
ready too  fond  of  speculations  and  fancies, 
that  bear  not  on  the  heart  and  life — that  we 
should  endeavour  to  recall  their  attention  to 
truths,  which,  though  slighted,  ought  to  boas 
interesting  as  they  are  momentous — that 
there  is  no  new  revelation  to  be  expected  ; 
nor  even  any  fresh  doctrines  to  be  discovered 
in  the  old  one — and  therefore — that  with  re- 
gard to  us,  originality  of  subject  is,  and  ought 
to  be  out  of  the  question;  and  that  all  tin1 
honour  of  this  kind  we  can  claim,  consists  in 


IIIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


69 


now  and  pleasing  combinations,  arrange- 
ments, and  exemplifications  of  old,  simple 
and  well  known  principles;  the  preaching  of 
which,  in  the  beginning  of  the  gospel,  con- 
verted the  world  from  Paganism  ;  at  the  re- 
formation delivered  the  nations  from  Popery  ; 
and  is  now  the  power  of  God  to  salvation 
to  every  one  that  believeth.  For  want  of 
considering  that  this  is  the  only  legitimate 
novelty  and  variety  belonging  to  their  public 
office,  young  ministers  have  often  become 
unacceptable  and  useless.  The  body  of  the 
people  would  have  been  satisfied  with  useful 
and  evangelical  matter,  however  plainly  de- 
livered, but  they  were  disappointed  of  their 
food,  by  efforts  at  peculiarity :  a  few  indivi- 
duals of  more  sense  than  piety,  would  have 
been  pleased  with  a  display  of  really  superior 
intellect,  but  they  were  disappointed  of  their 
gratification,  and  withdrew  disgusted  by  in- 
adequate attempts  to  shine  ;  and  thus  has  the 
trifler  fallen  through  between  both  parties. 

It  would  be  well  to  remember  the  remark 
which  Johnson,  in  his  life  of  Cowley,  applies 
to  the  metaphysical  authors,  and  which  is 
still  more  true  in  reference  to  scriptural  sub- 
jects, every  one  of  which  has  been  so  fre- 
quently examined  :  "  These  writers  who  lie 
on  the  watch  for  novelty,  could  have  little 
hope  of  greatness:  for  great  things  cannot 
have  escaped  former  observation."  It  would 
be  well  also  to  recollect  even  in  this  borrow- 
ed sense,  the  adage  of  the  apostle,  "  Every 
man  in  his  own  order."  If  we  follow  what  is 
natural,  though  it  may  not  render  us  popular, 
it  will  keep  us  from  being  ridiculous.  It  is 
better  to  effect  well  what  is  within  our  grasp, 
than  to  beckon  people  together  to  see  us  fall 
into  a  ditch,  by  reaching  after  fruit  that  re- 
quires longer  arms. 

Elegance  is  minute  beauty,  pleasing  pro- 
priety. Simplicity  is  essential  to  it.  Hence 
the  line  of  Cowper,  who  was  himself  the  finest 
instance  of  it — 

"  Elegant  as  is  simplicity." 

It  is  the  same  in  style  as  what  is  called 
chasteness  in  painting,  and  which  is  the  oppo- 
site to  exuberance  and  glare.  An  indiscrimi- 
nate and  unsparing  application  of  florid  co- 
lours, may  daub  a  sign  post,  but  will  not  be 
admitted  into  the  gallery.  It  is  the  same  as 
gracefulness  in  apparel ;  and  which  is  incon- 
sistent not  only  with  slovenliness,  but  with 
gaudery.  A  well-dressed  gentleman  is  very 
distinguishable  from  an  harlequin.  See  an 
elegant  female  enter  a  garden  ;  from  the  pro- 
fusion of  the  borders,  she  seeks  an  assortment 
of  beauty ;  her  eye  guides  her  hand  ;  she 
gathers,  but  not  all  that  comes  in  her  way ; 
she  selects,  and  the  choice  discovers  her 
taste ;  she  arranges,  and  the  order  equally 
displays  it:  the  several  parts  aid  each  other 
by  their  hue,  and  by  their  position;  though 
brought  together,  there   is  no  crowding; 


though  diverse,  there  is  no  confusion ;  though 
adjusted,  no  formality;  they  open,  and  wave, 
and  retain  a  natural  appearance,  even  in  this 
artificial  state. — But  another  runs  on,  gathers, 
because  they  are  flowers,  thinks  she  can  ne- 
ver have  enough,  and  leaves  oft',  because  the 
hand  can  squeeze  no  more — she  binds  it — it 
is  a  bundle  of  flowers — but  the  former  is  a 
nosegay. 

A  love  of  genuine  simplicity  is,  perhaps, 
the  best  proof  of  an  approximation  to  mental 
maturity.  But  there  is  an  infantile  state, 
during  which  gaudiness  and  glitter,  shining 
metaphors,  and  poetical  prose  are  preferred 
to  it. 

Nearly  the  same  may  be  said  with  regard 
to  what  is  ingenious.  That  which  distin- 
guishes the  true  from  the  spurious  is  this,  the 
effect  appears  natural  as  soon  as  it  is  pro- 
duced, though  it  was  not  obvious  before  ;  and 
the  reader  or  hearer  wonders  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  achieve  himself,  what  now 
seems  so  plain.  Thus  Milton,  in  referring 
to  the  consequence  of  Satan's  advice  in  the 
council: 

"  The  invention  all  admired,  and  each  how  he 
To  be  ttie  inventor,  miss'd  ;  so  easy  it  seemed 
Qnbe  found,  which  yet  unfound,  most  would  have 

thought 
Impossible." 

If  this  statement  be  just,  there  is  much 
that  would  pass  for  the  effect  of  genius  that 
abides  not  the  test.  If  the  thoughts  are  sur- 
prising, they  are  not  natural :  and  instead  of 
being  easy,  they  require  labour  to  compre- 
hend and  retain  them,  as  well  as  to  produce 
them.  They  may  indicate  learning,  and  dis- 
play knowledge,  but  they  do  not  fascinate,  so 
that  a  man  cannot  disengage  his  mind  from 
the  charm !  they  do  not  dissolve  him,  so  that 
all  his  feelings  are  melted  into  a  sympathy 
of  delight  with  the  subject!  And  here  again 
it  is  no  unusual  thing  for  young  preachers  to 
err.  They  value  things  according  to  the  la- 
bour they  cost  them,  and  expect  others  to  do 
the  same  ;  and  after  straining  and  polishing, 
wonder  at  the  little  interest  they  have  been 
able  to  excite ;  while  others  by  a  touch  will 
electrify.  The  mind  is  in  the  best  state  for 
composition  when  it  is  full  of  feeling,  but  at 
ease,  insensible  of  great  expectations  from  it, 
and  unapprehensive  of  difficulty.  A  man  may 
run  himself  out  of  breath  with  his  eyes  in  the 
air ;  the  flowers  are  at  his  feet. 

In  the  discharge  of  his  office  as  a  minister, 
nothing  was  overlooked, 

11  Rut  in  his  duty  prompt  at  ev'rycall, 

He  watch'd  and  wept,  he  pray'd  and  felt  for  all. 
Anil,  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
To  tempt  its  new  fleclg'd  offspring  to  the  skies; 
He  tried  each  art,  reprov'd  each  dull  delay, 
Allur'd  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way. 

"  Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid, 
And  sorrow,  guilt,  and  pain,  by  turns  diemay'd, 
The  reverend  champion  stood.    At  his  control, 
Despair  anil  anguish  lied  the  struggling  soul, 
Comfort  rami'  down  the  trembling  Wretch  to  raise, 
And  his  last  falt'ring  accents  whisper'd  praise." 


70 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


With  regard  to  this  part  of  his  work  in 
which  he  peculiarly  excelled,  though  he  ima- 
gined himself  very  defective  in  the  manner 
of  the  performance;  he  has  expressed  him- 
self in  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  S  r,  of 

B  s:  and  the  hints  may  be  serviceable  to 

others. 

"  You  wish  to  possess  my  idea  on  visiting 
the  sick.  What  I  have  to  say  upon  this  sub- 
ject is  in  brief.  I  find  it  to  be  one  of  the 
most  difficult  parts  of  my  ministry.  To  speak 
to  a  careless  sinner  as  though  his  state  were 
favourable,  is  not  possible.  To  use  those  li- 
berties which  some  good  men  do,  I  cannot,  by 
attempting  to  torture  the  mind,  by  imposing 
duties  which  though  they  may  be  expected 
from  convalescence,  cannot  from  persons 
whose  minds  have  been  so  injured  by  their 
disorder,  that  they  cannot  preserve  a  chain 
of  thought,  nor  exert  themselves  in  the  dili- 
gent pursuit  of  knowledge  necessary  to  be  ac- 
quired. I  can  seldom  do  more  than  remind 
them  that  it  is  a  melancholy  consideration,  if 
they  put  off  the  concerns  of  the  soul  till  they 
are  fit  for  nothing ;  urge  them  to  examine 
themselves  diligently,  reminding  them  that 
while  they  are  strangers  to  the  evil  of  sin, 
they  cannot  put  a  true  estimate  upon  Jesus 
Christ:  that  there  is  no  salvation  for  any  but 
in  him ;  that  if  under  a  consciousness  of  their 
guilt,  they  earnestly  apply  to  him,  from  his 
merciful  and  gracious  disposition  there  is 
hope  concerning  them. — Indeed  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  the  patient  guide  to  proper 
language,  and  it  is  pleasure  rather  than  pain, 
to  attend  those  whose  state  is  promissory, 
whose  sickness  is  sanctified,  and  who  are 
reaping  the  benefits  of  a  work  of  grace  previ- 
ously begun  upon  them.  I  generally  turn 
from  the  sick  to  those  who  are  healthy  in  the 
room,  and  conceive  that  by  serious  addresses 
to  them,  I  may  speak  what  is  necessary  to 
the  sick.  I  generally  endeavour  to  be  very 
serious  in  prayer,  and  usually,  if  the  case  of 
the  patient  will  bear  it,  read,  and  as  it  is 
your  practice,  make  use  of  the  Scriptures  in 
my  address." 

Mr.  Winter  was  singularly  pre-eminent  in 
the  devotional  part  of  his  ministerial  work. 
I  have  heard  many  pray,  but  I  never  heard 
one  that  prayed  like  him.  I  never  knew  him 
at  a  loss  for  a  word,  or  using  a  word  impro- 
perly. Such  was  the  copiousness,  such  the 
flexibility  of  his  talent,  that  without  any  pre- 
meditation, he  could  perfectly  accommodate 
his  language  to  every  occurrence.  He  intro- 
duced little  things  with  dignity,  and  delicate 
ones  without  offence.  This  gave  him  a 
great  advantage,  as  he  was  enabled  at  all 
times  to  notice  very  affectionately  the  vari- 
ous and  minute  circumstances  of  his  people. 
Were  some  to  attempt  this,  who  possess  not 
his  richness  and  ease  of  diction,  it  would  only 
embarrass  them,  and  render  them  formal  and 
absurd. 


I  am  persuaded  however,  that  much  of  his 
devotional  fluency  arose  from  the  state  of  his 
heart ;  for  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart 
the  mouth  speaketh.  The  purity  and  fervour 
of  his  benevolence  made  his  tongue  as  the 
pen  of  a  ready  writer.  We  can  easily  plead 
for  those  we  love,  and  he  loved  all  he  beheld. 
In  one  of  his  letters  he  beautifully  remarks, 
in  allusion  to  the  words  of  our  Saviour, 
"  That  when  he  looked  down  upon  the  con- 
gregation, he  saw  every  where  his  brother, 
his  sister,  his  mother." — No  wonder  such  a 
man  could  pray  or — preach.  The  Sabbath 
morning  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  devo- 
tional, and  commonly  indulged  himself  at 
length,  especially  at  intercession:  at  other 
times  he  was  rather  short. 

To  conclude  this  article, 

"  I  wonlil  express  him  simple,  crave,  sincere  ; 
In  doctrine  nncorrupt  ;  in  language  plain, 
Ami  plain  in  manlier  :  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 
And  natural  in  gesture  ;  much  impress'd 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge, 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too  ;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  became 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men. 
Behold  the  picture !" 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  make  another  se- 
parate article,  by  considering  Mr.  Winter, 
fourthly,  as  an  Author. 

He  published  no  work  of  any  extent,  and 
what  he  furnished  the  public,  does  not  rise 
above  mediocrity.  It  consisted  principally  of 
sermons,  all  of  which  were  funeral. 

The  first  of  these  was  on  the  death  of  Mr. 
Joseph  Shipman,  one  of  the  students  former- 
ly expelled  from  Edmund-hall,  Oxford,  and 
whose  case  excited  so  much  attention.  This 
was  preached  at  Upton  upon  Severn ;  and  is 
dedicated  to  sir  Charles  Middleton,  now 
lord  Barham. 

The  second  was  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
death  of  Mr.  Whitefield.  This  was  preached 
at  Gloucester,  and  is  dedicated  to  the  poor 
belonging  to  the  Tabernacles  at  London  and 
Bristol.  As  this  dedication  is  very  charac- 
teristical  of  the  man,  I  cannot  forbear  insert- 
ing a  part  of  it. 

"  My  dear  friends, — The  following  ser- 
mon does  not  make  its  appearance  in  the 
world  for  any  imagined  excellency  I  conceive 
there  is  in  it ;  my  only  design  is  to  answer 
the  title,  and  by  an  honourable,  though  short 
mention  of  one  of  the  best  friends  I  ever  had, 
to  testify  to  the  church  and  to  the  world,  the 
obligations  I  am  bound  in  gratitude  to  think 
myself  under  to  Mr.  Whitefield ;  and  I  must 
take  the  same  occasion  to  intimate,  that 
throughout  the  connexion  I  had  the  honour 
of,  with  that  great  man,  I  did  not  seek  to 
serve  myself  more  than  to  be  serviceable. 
When  I  first  thought  of  making  this  discourse 
public,  I  intended  to  dedicate  it  to  a  person 
of  distinction,  whom  I  count  worthy  of  dou- 
ble honour,  till  I  was  struck  with  theobserva- 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


n 


tion  of  the  wise  man,  viz.  'The  ricli  have 
many  friends;'  and  as  dedications  intend  no- 
thing more  than  tokens  of  our  respect,  to 
whom  should  I  show  them  more  readily,  upon 
such  an  occasion,  than  to  those  who  have  the 
preference  of  the  hest  of  blessings,  I  mean 
the  gospel,  whereby  to  be  made  rich  in  faith, 
and  heirs  of  the  kingdom  the  Lord  hath  pro- 
mised !  Yours  then,  my  dear  brethren,  is  this 
sermon,  whose  servant  he  was,  for  Christ's 
sake,  whose  memory  occasioned  it. 

"  For  some  time  I  was  a  labourer  among 
you ;  many  of  you  knew  my  original,  and, 
boasting  excluded,  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  me, 
that  I  can  review  what  manner  of  entering 
in  I  had  unto  you,  and  the  whole  of  my  be- 
haviour while  among  you  ;  that  touching  my 
moral  conduct,  herein  I  exercised  myself  al- 
ways to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence. — 
When  I  reflect  upon  my  past  labours,  they 
are  a  sufficient  cause  of  humiliation,  and  yet 
I  am  a  wonder  to  myself,  when  I  consider 
how  destitute  of  every  necessary  acquirement 
I  at  first  made  my  appearance,  and  what  in- 
cessant interruptions  I  met  with. 

"  A  growing  acquaintance  with  myself 
made  me  conscious  of  my  inability  to  be  so 
beneficial  to  you  as  I  desired,  therefore,  en- 
tirely at  my  own  repeated  request,  Mr. 
Whitefield  took  mc  into  America,  where  I 
thought  I  might  be  useful  in  a  sphere  that 
nobody  would  envy  me ;  and  where,  free  from 
all  the  trials  attending  a  more  popular  life,  I 
might  glorify  God,  and  be  serviceable  to  the 
most  oppressed  and  afflicted  part  of  my  fel- 
low-creatures. During  my  state  of  trial  in 
this  humble  situation,  my  habitation  was  a 
Beth-el,  my  soul  was  possessed  with  the 
peace  that  passeth  all  understanding ;  my 
black  charge  was  dear  to  me,  and  I  much  de- 
sired the  time  when  I  should  be  in  a  capacity 
to  serve  them  according  to  my  utmost  wishes, 
and  for  ever  retreat  from  a  world  of  vanity. 
This  happiness  I  am  obliged  to  say,  the 
b  p  of  L  n  most  unkindly  and  most  un- 
generously deprived  me  of,  though  I  sought  it 
at  the  hazard  of  my  life.  And  no  sooner  did  I 
meet  with  his  unkind  treatment,  than  by  an 
instance  from  another  quarter,  which  1  desire 
to  bury  in  eternal  silence,  I  was  taught  to 
cease  from  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nos- 
trils. 

"  You,  my  brethren,  at  Bristol,  know  how 
pressingly,  and  at  what  a  critical  juncture  I 
was  brought  into  your  service,  in  which  I 
still  consider  myself  engaged,  though  less 
frequent  than  formerly ;  owing  to  the  obser- 
vance of  a  piece  of  wholesome  advice  dear 
Mr.  Whitefield  often  gave  me,  viz.  '  Be  ser- 
vant like,  but  not  servile.'  And  blessed  be 
the  Lord,  I  find  there  are  doors  enough  open 
to  me,  quite  beyond  my  expectation  ;  my  feet 
have  been  set  in  a  large  place ;  the  poor  are 
the  subjects  of  my  itinerant,  ministry,  and  I 
can  say,  as  the  result  of  my  strongest  affec- 


tion for  them,  I  am  willing  to  spend  and  be 
spent  for  them,  not  doubting,  but  when  I  can 
do  no  more,  the  Lord  will  take  care  of  my 
feeble  remains. 

"  Perhaps  the  persons  into  whose  hands 
these  papers  may  fall,  require  a  word  of  con- 
solation as  well  as  instruction.  You  are  poor, 
and  your  situation  exposes  you  to  many  and 
great  trials ;  it  may  be,  you  find  them  a  sore 
burden,  apparently  too  heavy  for  you  to  bear. 
Be  it  so,  you  have  these  considerations  to 
comfort  yourselves  with :  first,  they  are  or- 
dered by  the  Lord.  He  is  privy  to,  and  de- 
signs some  salutary  end  by  them.  VVe  are 
poor  disordered  creatures ;  he  is  the  physician, 
and  knoweth  that  we  have  need  of  all  these 
things.  The  medicine  may  operate  severely, 
but  the  several  ingredients  in  it  will  work  to- 
gether for  good  ;  and  however  they  may  put 
you  to  pain  for  the  present,  they  will  be 
matter  of  praise  hereafter.  God  Almighty 
doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor  grieve  the  chil- 
dren of  men ;  there  is  necessity  for  all  that  he 
doeth,  and  the  necessity  is  on  our  part ;  when 
he  shall  be  visibly  glorified  by  the  several  dis- 
pensations of  his  providence,  your  profiting 
will  appear  unto  all  men. 

"  Secondly,  The  Lord  is  daily  answering 
your  prayers  wherein  you  request  that  his 
will  may  be  done.  It  is  enough  that  he  hath 
promised  he  will  fulfil  the  desires  of  the 
righteous:  but  how,  or  by  what  means  he 
will  perform  his  promise,  is  not  for  you  to 
know ;  all  you  have  to  do,  is  to  follow  the  pre- 
scriptions given  you,  and  suffer  the  will  of 
God  concerning  you.  Ye  have  heard  of  the 
patience  of  Job,  amidst  a  variety  of  the  most 
complicated  distresses,  and  have  seen  in  the 
history  of  his  life,  the  end  of  the  Lord,  that 
he  is  very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy.  You 
must  acknowledge  that  your  blessings  are 
more  than  a  counterbalance  to  your  distresses ; 
and  as  you  are  assured,  that  an  eternal  weight 
of  glory  is  to  be  the  interest  of  your  light  af- 
flictions, be  steadfast,  and  hope  to  the  end.  Di- 
vine supports  shall  be  given  unto  you,  and  if 
the  period  of  your  suffering  season  should  be 
drawn  out  to  an  unusual  length,  the  grace  of 
God  shall  be  sufficient  for  you,  and  as  your 
day  is,  so  shall  your  strength  be. 

"  Thirdly,  In  the  word  of  the  Lord  is  both 
hope  and  comfort,  and  this  is  the  word  that 
is  preached  unto  you.  I  should  be  sorry  to 
make  your  temporal  circumstances  the  alone 
objects  of  my  attention,  and  I  hope  you  have 
greater  ends  to  answer,  by  hearing  the  gos- 
pel, than  to  alleviate  the  sorrow  of  the  world. 
It  so  happens,  that  a  tide  of  spiritual  distress 
frequently  flows  in  upon  the  children  of  God 
with  their  temporal  calamities,  therefore  a 
suitable  remedy  for  both  is  deposited  in  the 
sacred  word ;  and  as  wise  stewards  of  the 
mysteries  of  God,  ministers  are  to  deal  them 
out  as  the  exigencies  of  the  people  require. 
If  it  is  well  with  your  souls,  in  other  respects, 


72 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


all  is  and  will  bo  well.  As  Jesus  is  the  foun- 
tain of  life,  and  always  accessible  and  com- 
municative, I  beseech  you  to  come  to  him  just 
as  you  are,  poor  and  needy  and  bowed  down. 
Cast  all  your  burdens  upon  him  ;  you  may  de- 
rive a  supply  for  all  your  wants  out  of  his  ful- 
ness, he  will  withhold  from  you  no  manner 
of  thing-  that  is  good  ;  it  is  your  privilege  to 
trust  in  him  at  all  times,  and  your  peculiar 
mercy,  that  he  will  never  leave  you  nor  for- 
sake you. 

"  Thus  much  I  thought  necessary  to  say  to 
you,  my  poor  dear  brethren,  in  this  dedica- 
tion, to  supply  what  may  appear  defective  in 
the  sermon ;  and  now  I  beg  an  interest  in  your 
prayers,  that  God  may  give  me  a  pilgrim's 
heart  with  a  pilgrim's  life,  that  I  may  aim  to 
promote  no  interest  besides  that  of  the  king- 
dom of  God,  nor  attempt  to  appear  an  advo- 
cate for  any  other  party  besides  that  which 
shall  stand  upon  Mount  Sion.  There  it  will  be 
seen  how  sincerely  I  have  been,  and  so  far  as  oc- 
casion offers,  am  yet  yours  affectionately,  &c. 

"Bristol,  October  5,  1773." 

The  third  was  on  the  death  of  Mrs.  Lanfcar, 
the  pious  sister  of  Mrs.  Winter. 

The  fourth  was  on  the  death  of  Mr.  John 
Fryer,  of  Frampton  upon  Severn. 

The  fifth  was  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Zacha- 
rias  Harlock,  of  Painswick,  aged  ninety-two. 

He  published  a  charge,  delivered  at  the  or- 
dination of  the  Editor;  and  another  at  the  or- 
dination of  Mr.  Golding,  who  was  also  one  of 
his  students. 

Some  valuable  reflections  are  annexed  to 
the  life  of  Mrs.  Joanna  Turner,  without  his 
name.  Some  may  not  be  aware  of  this,  but 
he  was  "The  worthy  Dissenting  minister" 
who  is  there  said  to  have  furnished  them. 

He  sent  various  communications,  especially 
obituary  and  biography,  to  the  magazines, 
which  I  cannot  specify.  The  lives  of  Mr. 
Hogg  and  of  Mr.  Adams  were  written  by 
him. 

He  was  idly  appointed  final  Editor  of  the 
Theological  Magazine,  but  others  engrossed 
all  the  influence,  and  no  papers  were  ever  sent 
him.  He  wrote  the  preface  to  that  work, 
which  some  one  contrived  to  spoil  before  it 
was  printed. 

Mr.  Winter  frequently  mentioned  a  design 
to  publish  some  memoirs  of  that  very  extraor- 
dinary character,  Salmanazer,  but  the  inten- 
tion was  never  executed.  This  is  the  more 
to  be  lamented,  as  he  was  peculiarly  intimate 
with  him,  and  attended  him  in  his  dying  mo- 
ments. Mr.  Winter  had  hope  in  his  death. 
He  had  a  fine  original  portrait  of  him  as 
large  as  life.  But  we  hasten  to  observe  him 
finally — 

As  a  Christian. 

Of  the  carbuncle  it  is  remarked,  that  it 
looks  on  lire,  but  when  touched  it  is  as  cold 


as  other  stones.  There  arc  persons  who  soon 
rectify  our  mistakes  concerning  them,  by  our 
intercourse  with  them.  They  will  not  en- 
dure close  inspection.  Their  piety  is  official 
rather  than  personal.  It  consists  in  certain 
exercises  and  appearances,  which  are  resigned 
with  the  occasions  that  require  them:  and  in 
company  they  are  the  merry  companions,  the 
temporising  associates ;  in  the  house,  the  cruel 
husbands,  the  negligent  fathers,  the  tyranni- 
cal masters. 

But  it  was  otherwise  with  Mr.  Winter. 
His  private  life  was  not  only  consistent  with 
his  public  character,  but  surpassed  it.  We 
respect  him  as  a  man  of  letters  and  knowledge, 
we  love  him  as  a  tutor,  we  revere  him  as  a 
preacher;  but  as  a  Christian  he  "  excellcth  in 
glory." 

And  here  I  find  it  impossible  to  do  any 
thing  that  is  very  satisfactory  to  my  own  mind, 
or  that  will  probably  meet  the  sanguine  wish- 
es of  those  who  intimately  knew  him.  The 
amiableness  and  holiness  of  his  daily  walk, 
were  so  invariable,  that,  as  the  whole  cannot 
be  produced,  so  reasons  to  determine  the  se- 
lection of  particular  parts  are  not  easily  found. 
Facts,  like  quotations,  arc  not  always  speci- 
mens ;  they  may  rise  above  the  general  prac- 
tice, or  be  peculiar  to  themselves;  but  here 
the  various  excellences  we  adduce  are  in- 
stances, and  may  be  compared  to  small  sam- 
ples severed  from  a  large  piece  of  beautiful 
and  finely  woven  cloth ;  they  are  of  the  very 
same  texture  and  colour  with  the  whole,  and 
would  have  appeared  to  better  advantage  in 
their  original  connexion  than  in  their  detach- 
ed form.  For  fifty  years,  here  is  a  man  un- 
changeable in  all  the  varieties  of  life ;  by  the 
grace  of  God,  holding  on  his  way  without 
drawing  back,  or  turning  aside,  or  standing 
still,  or  even  seeming  to  come  short ;  what 
the  Scripture  calls  a  perfect  and  an  upright 
man,  one  that  feareth  God  and  escheweth 
evil. — Such  an  one  we  are  called  to  "  Mark 
and  behold." 

His  mode  of  living  was  very  simple  and 
plain.  There  was  nothing  superb  in  his 
house,  nothing  superfluous  or  costly  at  his 
table ;  but  a  plenitude  of  wholesome  fare,  at- 
tended with  such  a  graceful  welcome,  and 
such  an  agreeable  intercourse,  that  whoever 
visited  him  was  more  than  satisfied,  though 
he  might  not  find  all  the  foolish  and  gouty  in- 
dulgences, to  which  he  had  been  generally 
accustomed.  In  a  letter  to  his  dear  friend 
Mr.  L — e,  in  acknowledgment  of  a  favour 
received  from  him,  he  remarks,  "  My  manner 
of  life  is  happily  adapted  to  the  times ;  and,  as 
my  wants  are  contracted,  I  feel  none  of  the 
inconveniences  which  crowd  upon  many,  who 
suppose  the  ministerial  office  must  necessarily 
be  attended  with  style,  and  therefore  confound 
the  distinction  between  a  man  of  property 
and  a  minister.    A  more  public  situation,  for 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


7,'i 


which  I  acknowledge  myself  unfit,  may  re- 
quire an  appearance  with  which  I  can  witli 
propriety  dispense,  and  am  hound  to  acknow- 
ledge, 1  can  obtain  nil  I  want  for  myself  and 
my  dear  wife,  with  the  interest  of  Jt!400  which 
she  brought  me,  and  the  per  annum  which 
my  situation  produces.  But  I  must  be  given 
to  hospitality,  and  an  attention  to  this  duty 
seems  to  require  a  little  augmentation,  for 
which  I  have  trusted  Providence,  and  Provi- 
dence has  honoured  the  confidence  reposed  in 
it.  The  expense  of  a  plain  meal,  beyond 
which  I  never  exceed,  differs  from  that  of  a 
feast  Wherever  1  have  been,  the  poor  have 
closely  attached  to  me,  and  in  fact  have  been 
part  of  my  family.  For  their  sake  I  am 
thankful  for  such  a  friend  as  my  dear  Mr. 
L — e,  who  blesses  me  with  his  friendship,  and 
honours  me  with  his  pecuniary  favours,  and 
affords  me  the  pleasure,  by  giving  me  an  op- 
portunity to  impart  it  to  others,  which  he  him- 
self feels  in  imparting  to  me." 

His  family  worship  was  early  both  morning 
and  evening.  Reading  the  Scripture  always 
made  a  part  of  it,  and  a  portion  of  Henry's 
Exposition  generally  accompanied  it.  Sing- 
ing also  was  commonly  blended  with  it.  He 
was  remarkably  fond  of  psalmody,  and  could 
sing  well  himself  But — the  prayer ! — Though 
the  frequency  of  the  exercise,  and  the  same- 
ness of  the  circumstances  tend  to  formality, 
and  allow  of  little  diversity  in  domestic  devo- 
tion ;  yet  his  addresses  always  seemed  as  new 
as  they  were  appropriate,  and  as  comprehen- 
sive and  particular  as  they  were  short  and 
free.*  I  shall  never  forget  these  exercises ; 
they  enlivened  me,  however  dull,  and  im- 
pressed ine,  however  insensible.  I  rose  from 
my  knees  longing  to  be  better ;  longing  to  be 
more  like  him ;  and  thought  of  the  exclama- 
tion of  Philip  Henry,  when  he  closed  the 
duty  of  the  Sabbath,  "Well,  if  this  be  not 
heaven,  it  must  be  the  way  to  it."  Many 
have  expressed  a  wish  that  a  collection  of 
prayers  was  published,  more  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed to  the  use  of  families  than  any  of  those 
which  have  already  appeared.  Nothing  would 
have  supplied  this  want  like  a  number  of  his 
ordinary  devotions  in  the  family,  had  they 
been  secured  in  short  hand. 

Mr.  Winter  had  no  children — unless  by 
adoption  and  kindness.  Of  this  class,  indeed, 
he  had  many.  And  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
how  singularly  he  attracted  and  attached  all 
young  people  to  him.  And  this  was  the  case 
even  with  children,  so  that  I  believe  no  child 
was  ever  in  his  company  but  loved  him :  and 
when 

*  Mr.  Winter  was  never  tiresome  in  domestic  devo- 
tion. He  often  mentioned  that  Mr.  Wliitefield  being  at 
a  friend's  bouse,  the  master  of  the  family  one  evening 
prayed  himself.  He  was  immoderately  long;  in  the 
middle  of  the  prayer  Mr.  Whitefield  rose  up  and  sat 
down  in  the  chair ;  and  when  the  long-winded  gentle- 
man had  done,  said  to  him  with  a  frown,  11  Sir,  you 
prayeil  me  into  a  good  frame,  and  you  prayed  me  out 
of  it  again." 

K  7 


"The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 
Willi  ready  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran  ; 
E'en  children  followed  with  endearing  wile, 
And  pltick'd  his  gown  to  share  the  good  man's  smile. 
His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  cxpress'd, 
Their  welfare  pleas'd  him,  and  their  cares  distress'd." 

As  a  husband,  he  was  a  pattern  of  relative 
virtue.  While  writing  this  very  paragraph, 
I  have  thrown  my  eye  upon  the  copy  of  a  let- 
ter to  a  friend  on  his  marriage,  in  which  he 
observes:  "Much  of  the  happiness  of  the 
conjugal  state  consists  in  reciprocal  giving 
and  receiving ;  bearing  with  infirmities  com- 
mon to  men,  and  forbearing  to  avail  ourselves 
of  inadvertencies;  closing  the  eye  to  failings, 
and  opening  it  to  a  discernment  of  what  is 
praiseworthy. — The  study  of  mutual  felicity 
will  be  well  rewarded,  and  it  is  a  duty  we 
owe  to  ourselves,  and  to  the  partners  of  our 
lives. — The  bond  that  is  soon  to  be  dissolved 
should  be  firm  while  it  holds."  To  Mr.  L — e, 
on  his  marriage,  he  writes,  among  other  things, 
"  May  your  wishes  be  succeeded  to  the  utter- 
most, and  your  expectation  of  the  felicity  of 
the  state  of  matrimony,  be  answered  beyond 
conception.  I  could  indulge  myself  in  the 
multiplication  of  good  wishes;  they  shall  all 
be  included  in  one — may  every  blessing  unite 
to  make  you  happy.  They  will,  if  you  set 
the  Lord  always  before  you,  choose  him  for 
your  best  portion,  and  study  to  advance  his 
interest  among  men.  Mr.  Matthew  Henry's 
dying  testimony  will  always  prove  true.  4  A 
life  of  communion  with  God  is  the  happiest 
life  in  the  world  ;'  and  his  remark  in  the  be- 
ginning of  his  Comment  is  as  worthy  of  notice, 
that  'He  who  has  a  good  God,  a  good  wife, 
and  a  good  home,  needs  nothing  more.'  It  is 
the  property  of  a  good  wife  to  make  domestic 
happiness ;  and  we  seldom  find  men  disposed 
to  seek  an  addition  to  their  happiness  abroad, 
who,  by  the  attentions  of  a  bosom  friend,  are 
made  happy  at  home.  When  we  do  meet 
with  instances  to  the  contrary,  it  is  in  those 
whose  natural  depravity  is  not  subdued.  But 
dear  Mr.  L — e  has  long  since  lived  under  the 
triumphs  of  grace ;  he  has  been  walking  in 
its  paths,  been  guided  by  its  instructions,  and 
has  adopted  all  that  it  inculcates.  His  choice 
therefore,  I  am  persuaded,  is  favourable  to 
his  growth  in  grace;  and  whatever  additional 
claims  his  new  state  may  impose,  he  will  be 
equal  to,  and  live  in  the  conscientious  dis- 
charge of,  till  the  end  of  life  is  answered,  and 
he  shall  receive  the  '  Well  done,'  with  which 
the  Lord  will  welcome  into  his  joy,  those  who 
acquit  themselves  properly  in  the  duties  en- 
joined upon  them,  and  are  found  faithful  in 
the  improvement  of  the  talents  intrusted  to 
them.  Exertions  in  his  service  from  princi- 
ple, will  prevent  us  from  giving  them  an  un- 
due merit:  we  shall  not  rob  him  of  the  glory 
which  is  his  due,  because  he  condescends 
to  accept  our  efforts,  and,  though  infinitely 
short  of  perfection,  yea,  attended  with  nu- 
merous instances  of  imperfection,  honours 


74 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


them  with  his  plaudit.  By  the  grace  and 
providence  of  God,  we  are  what  we  are ;  and 
his  grace  will  keep  us  from  being  proud  and 
vain,  while  under  the  conduct  of  his  Provi- 
dence, we  have  opportunities  afforded  us  to 
honour  our  religion,  and  to  be  an  example  to 
those  around  us." 

It  is  to  be  remembered,  that  whatever  Mr. 
Winter  enforced,  he  also  exemplified.  He 
loved  his  wife  even  as  himself.  This  affec- 
tion was  never  interrupted  by  passion,  or  sul- 
lied by  pettishness.  Neither  was  it  suffered 
to  cool  with  years.  It  had  no  abatement  under 
the  infirmities  and  decay  of  its  object.  When 
he  was  at  home,  no  proper  attention  was 
omitted :  when  abroad,  no  engagement  hin- 
dered the  regularity  of  his  correspondence. — 
Nor  was  he  satisfied  but  in  proportion  as  he 
realized  in  his  companion,  an  immortal  too. 
All  his  intercourse  was  as  religious  as  it  was 
kind  and  tender.  O !  what  opportunities  have 
I  had  to  perceive  this  in  all  his  letters  that 
have  passed  under  my  review  ! — In  this  man- 
ner, indeed,  the  union  commenced :  and  I 
cannot  resist  the  inclination  I  feel  to  intro- 
duce a  little  of  his  correspondence  with  Mrs. 
Winter  before  marriage.  It  will  be  found 
very  descriptive  of  the  man;  it  may  prove 
exemplary.    Here  follows  his  first  address. 

"  Madam, — I  hope  this  letter  will  neither 
give  you  surprise,  nor  disgust — I  write  it  in 
the  fear  of  God,  with  a  single  eye  to  his  glory, 
from  the  necessity  I  am  under  to  alter  my 
condition,  and  the  high  esteem  I  have  con- 
ceived for  you. — The  lowliness  of  my  circum- 
stances, together  with  my  want  of  a  settled 
being,  hitherto  prevented  my  ever  addressing 
any  one ;  and  I  do  not  now  wish  to  think  of  a 
young  person,  conscious  to  myself  that  I  am 
not  equal  to  the  duty  required  in  the  charge 
of  a  large  family. — The  present  line  the  Pro- 
vidence of  God  has  cast  me  into,  makes  my 
circumstances  equivalent  to  an  annuity  of 
about  £35  per  annum,  and  as  I  do  not  want 
to  live  better  than  strictly  decent,  I  flatter 
myself  I  shall  do  no  injury  to  the  substance 
of  the  person  I  desire  to  be  united  with. — If 
I  might  have  the  privilege  to  address  you, 
madam,  I  desire  to  do  it  on  the  most  honour- 
able terms — should  I  succeed,  I  have  not  the 
least  doubt  but  I  shall  discover  an  affection 
worthy  of  the  marriage  state,  and  engage 
your  affection  toward  myself  by  a  uniform 
temper  and  deportment.   I  have  not  the  least 
objection  to  my  character  and  conduct  being 
scrutinized  into,  with  the  utmost  care  and 
diligence,  and  if  you  please,  I  will  refer  you 
to  persons  whose  eminence  will  give  weight 
to  their  testimony. — A  line  from  you  will  be 
esteemed  a  favour,  and  if  it  brings  the  least 
hint  answerable  to  my  wishes,  you  may  ex- 
pect a  visit  from  me  very  soon ;  on  the  other 
hand,  if  you  see  it  right  to  put  a  negative 
upon  my  request,  I  shall  endeavour  to  consider 


it  in  a  proper  light,  and  be  conscientiously 
careful,  not  to  make  any  future  interview 
with  you  troublesome.  You  would  have  heard 
nothing  from  me  upon  this  subject,  if  I  did 
not  believe  you  to  be  united  to,  and  a  sincere 
follower  of,  the  dear  Lord  Jesus.  It  will  be 
by  a  mere  mistake  if  ever  I  take  a  person  of 
a  contrary  disposition  into  my  embraces,  and 
the  more  such  a  person  differs  in  dress,  in  the 
choice  of  company  and  matter  of  conversation 
from  the  world,  the  better  by  far  will  she  suit 
me.  The  brilliancy  of  heaven  is  truly  admi- 
rable, and  therefore  desirable ;  the  ornament 
Peter  recommends,  may  be  worn  without  re- 
morse of  conscience,  even  when  it  is  truly 
awake  to  know,  and  serious  to  examine.  That 
you,  madam,  may  never  put  any  thing  on, 
but  what  you  can  easily  put  off,  and  cheer- 
fully exchange  for  a  grave  suit;  that  you  may 
never  unite  with  any  but  in  an  indissoluble 
bond,  is  the  sincere  prayer  of,  yours,  in  the 
gospel,  C.  W. 

"  1778." 

"  Dear  madam, — In  the  former  letter  you 
did  me  the  honour  to  receive,  I  promised,  in 
case  you  did  not  comply  with  my  request,  not 
to  make  any  future  interview  troublesome.  I 
hope  you  will  not  deem  a  renewal  of  the  re- 
quest a  breach  of  promise.  I  do  intend,  with 
your  permission,  if  an  opportunity  offers,  on 
Thursday  afternoon,  to  say  something  upon 
the  subject ;  but  I  thought  it  necessary  to  give 
a  previous  hint  of  my  intention,  lest,  being 
unapprized  of  it,  I  might  hurt  your  delicacy. 
— All  you  have  to  say  short  of  an  absolute 
denial  I  shall  be  apt  to  raise  my  hopes  upon. 
Your  only  objection  hitherto,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  is  a  fear,  that  by  contracting  an  inti- 
macy with  me,  you  should  make  a  fracture  in 
the  union  of  your  family — this  I  would  wil- 
lingly avoid.    But  is  not  their  consent  to  be 

won  t  I  conceive  Mr.  B  n  is  a  man  of 

understanding.  Will  you  let  me  pay  a  com- 
pliment to  his  judgment,  by  asking  his  con- 
sent to  address  you  1  If  so,  you  shall  be  heart- 
ily welcome  to  inspect  the  letter.  I  shall 
never  think  of  forming  a  union  with  any  other 
woman  while  I  have  the  hope  of  succeeding 
with  you.  Let  me  beg  you  to  be.  tender  to 
this  declaration,  and  come  to  a  determination 
as  soon  as  you  can.  Should  any  thing  in  Pro- 
vidence occur  to  retard  the  accomplishment 
of  my  wishes,  I  will  endeavour  to  reconcile 
myself  to  it,  if  I  have  but  your  promise. — Do 
make  it  matter  of  prayer,  and  the  will  of  God 
will  be  made  manifest.  To-morrow  morning 
at  eight  o'clock,  I  shall  be  upon  my  knees  to 
solicit  (in  a  particular  manner)  the  blessing 
of  God  upon  my  endeavours  to  gain  you. 
What,  if  at  the  same  time  you  should  with- 
draw from  the  family  for  a  few  moments  to 
ask  counsel  of  him  1  It  may  hereafter  furnish 
us  with  an  agreeable  conversation,  when  we 
take  a  retrospective  view  of  the  footsteps  of 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


75 


his  Providence,  and  be  the  occasion  of  our 
mutual  thanksgiving. — In  hopes  that  this 
will  be  one  (and  the  most  material)  of  my  lat- 
ter day  temporal  blessings,  I  will  venture  to 
subscribe  myself,  dear  madam,  yours,  &c. 
"  Marlborough,  Jan.  5,  1779." 

"My  very  dear,  ever  dear  friend, — 
Perhaps  you  would  smile  to  yourself  if  you 
did  but  know  how  the  parson  was  tricked  last 
night.  Though  his  strength  was  as  exhausted 
as^usual  witli  the  duties  of  the  day,  in  hopes 
of  meeting  with  one  he  most  sincerely  loves, 
he  gave  an  elastic  spring,  and  with  his  mind 
formed  for  conversation,  trotted  away  to  Mr. 
Merry  man's;  but,  to  his  great  disappointment, 
the  dear  object  of  his  affection  was  not  there. 
This  event  preached  a  better  sermon  to  him 
than  he  had  preached  to  his  congregation, 
though  he  had  been  three  times  engaged.  It 
brought  a  conviction  that  covered  him  with 
shame.  It  made  him  reflect  with  humiliation, 
how  stupid  and  inactive  his  powers  are,  when 
they  ought  to  be  vigorously  exerted  in  pursuit 
of  the  dear  Lord  Jesus.^I  hope  he  will  take 
from  you  your  present  aversion  to  a  situation 
in  town,  seeing  it  is  his  good  pleasure  to  deny 
us  the  opportunity  of  an  habitation  out  of 
town.  I  am  persuaded  a  little  time  will  make 
it  familiar  to  us.    It  should  become  a  matter 
of  great  indifference  what  our  neighbours 
have  to  say  or  think  concerning  us,  while  we 
study  to  approve  ourselves  unto  God.  For 
my  own  part,  I  should  be  glad  to  have  mat- 
ters settled  soon,  and  as  the  first  necessary 
6tep,  should  be  glad  if  you  would  come  and 
see  the  house,  and  give  me  your  thoughts 
about  it.  We  must  not  expect  the  advantages 
of  a  Paradise  while  we  are  here;  every  gra- 
tification will  have  its  alloy,  every  habitation 
its  inconvenience,  every  friend  his  imperfec- 
tion, and  every  change  of  situation  something 
we  shall  be  loth  to  part  with,  as  well  as  some- 
thing we  shall  be  ready  to  come  to.  Think, 
my  dear  love,  of  this — not  to  distress  yourself, 
but  to  be  fortified  with  such  precaution  as 
will  be  a  check  upon  disappointment,  and  a 
means  to  reconcile  you  to  the  little  inconve- 
niences which  will  always  attend  us  in  this 
life. — With  this  you  will  receive  a  small  valu- 
able pocket  Bible,  which  I  beg  your  accept- 
ance of,  in  testimony  of  your  intention  to  make 
a  present  of  yourself  to  me.  It  has  been  long 
a  part  of  my  small  property,  and  I  rejoice  that 
I  have  it  to  present  to  you  as  the  best  signa- 
ture of  my  love,  and  in  confirmation  of  my 
persuasion,  that  the  rich  and  inexhaustible 
treasure  it  contains  is  all  your  own. — I  have 
not  one  of  the  same  impression  by  me  :  but, 
the  quarto  one,  neatly  bound  in  black  calf,  is 
of  equal  value,  nor  would  I  part  with  it  upon 
any  consideration,  but  that  of  a  desire  to  tes- 
tify to  your  dear  sister  what  an  affectionate 
alliance  I  wish  to  form  with  her,  through  my 
union  with  you.    I  beg  her  acceptance  of  it 


with  my  love,  and  pray  that  its  precious  con- 
tents may  be  the  joy,  the  desire,  the  guide, 
the  support  of  her  soul.  It  is  the  Christianity 
of  the  Bible,  that  only  will  stand  the  test; 
and  all  the  profession  of  religion  that  will  not 
admit  of  a  trial  by  it,  will  be  reprobated  by 
God,  the  righteous  judge  in  that  day,  when 
every  man's  works  shall  be  tried  so  as  by  fire. 

0  that  I  may  derive  all  my  doctrine  from  it ; 
and  that  we  may  mutually  agree  to  square  our 
lives  and  conversation  by  its  unerring  and 
safe  rule !  Pray  for  me,  and  believe  me  to  be, 
yours,  &c. 

"Marlborough,  January  11, 1779." 

"  My  very  dear,  ever  dear  friend, — You 
must  necessarily  have  been  very  much  en- 
gaged and  exercised  by  the  death  of  your 
brother.  It  is  an  event  that  I  hope  will  be 
much  sanctified  to  you  and  yours.  In  conse- 
quence of  it,  I  could  not  have  said  much  to 
you  upon  our  own  concerns,  if  I  had  had  op- 
portunity ;  but  opportunity  has  been  cut  off, 
and  my  mind  has  been  strangely  bewildered, 
and  I  may  add,  afflicted,  by  the  repeated 
aversion  you  have  expressed  against  living  in 
the  town.  While  Providence  denies  me  the 
pleasure  of  frequent  interview  with  you,  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  act  as  I  would,  and  un- 
less you  can  conquer  your  little  prejudice 
against  a  public  neighbourhood,  I  do  not  see 
how  my  strong  desire  of  union  with  you  can 
be  accomplished.  You  have  too  much  good 
sense  to  require  severe  asseverations  in  con- 
firmation of  what  does  not  admit  of  a  doubt. 

1  shall  therefore  be  content  to  say,  if  I  could 
raise  you  a  house  of  gold,  on  a  paradisaical 
spot  of  earth,  it  should  be  at  your  service ;  or, 
if  Providence  should  abridge  us  of  an  habit- 
ation so  convenient  as  we  would  wish  to  en- 
joy, I  could  be  content  to  dwell  with  you  in 
mud  walls.  I  have  been  in  perpetual  thought 
ever  since  last  Monday,  about  a  house  out  of 
town,  but  in  vain;  and  even  though  a  spot 
could  be  procured  to  build  upon,  serious  and 
deliberate  reflection  convinces  me,  that  it 
would  be  the  most  imprudent  step  we  could 
take,  to  attempt  it.  For  instance,  nothing 
could  be  raised  but  out  of  your  own  stock, 
and  by  a  purchase  made  previous  to  the  build- 
ing itself.  My  continuance  in  Marlborough 
depends  upon  the  affection  and  esteem  of  my 
friends,  and  the  success  of  my  ministry ; 
either  or  both  of  these  failing  I  must  decamp, 
and  then  what  good  would  a  house  do  us, 
merely  suited  in  size,  substance,  and  situation 
to  our  own  conveniency  1  Mr.  Hancock  as- 
sured me  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  oblige  us 
with  a  house  by  the  meeting,  and  I  am  as  far 
from  approving  of  that  in  the  church-yard  as 
you  would  be,  if  it  was  only  because  the  rent 
would  be  too  high.  This  difficulty  on  our 
first  setting  out  is  very  seasonable,  at  least 
to  me.  In  a  day  or  two  after  I  left  Rockley, 
I  wrote  largely  to  some  of  my  London  friends, 


76 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER, 


upon  the  amiable  qualifications  of  the  dear 
woman,  whom  I  told  them  the  Lord  had  se- 
creted and  preserved  to  be  a  help,  a  delight, 
a  principal  temporal  blessing  to  me.  Nor  can 
I  yet  alter  my  sentiment,  while  I  think  of  the 
antidote  against  the  cold,  she  so  kindly  sent 
me  on  Monday  evening  last,  and  which, 
through  the  blessing  of  God,  had  its  desired 
effect.    Will  my  dear  love  let  me  drop  her  a 
hint  upon  a  subject  she  must  know  by  expe- 
rience, if  ever  she  is  the  wife  of  a  minister 
of  Christ,  viz.  the  cross.    It  will  appear  in 
ten  thousand  forms,  and  be  felt  in  almost 
every  occurrence  of  life.  It  will  cleave  to  us 
if  we  are  Christians,  and  if  we  carry  it  as 
submissively  becomes  the  disciples  of  Jesus, 
it  will  befriend  us  even  while  it  galls  the 
shoulder,  and  prevent  our  loving,  or  being 
loved  by  the  world  to  our  utter  destruction. 
Consider  a  necessity  to  live  in  Marlborough 
against  your  natural  inclination,  one  instance 
of  your  obligation  to  take  up  the  cross  among 
many.  And  if  it  should  be  the  chief  instance, 
it  is  more  the  name  than  the  thing.  In  gene- 
ral, God  does  not  suffer  his  people  to  pass 
from  earth  to  heaven,  with  so  trivial  and  little 
interruption.    Where  the  thing  is  little,  it 
ought  to  be  the  more  readily  complied  with, 
otherwise  we  shall  appear  to  great  disadvan- 
tage when  tried  by  that  rule,  Luke  xvi.  10. 
Had  I  studied  my  own  ease  and  convenience, 
I  should  have  taken  a  very  different  course 
to  that  I  have  pursued  through  life  hitherto; 
but  I  enjoy  a  secret  satisfaction  in  imitating 
his  example  in  any  degree,  who  pleased  not 
himself,  and  have  reason  to  blush  before  God, 
that  having  such  an  example  of  self-denial  in 
the  dear  Redeemer,  I  have  in  so  great  a 
measure  walked  contrary  to  it.  Heaven  will 
make  amends  for  all ;  they  who  have  most  of 
the  afflictions  of  this  present  life,  will  have 
most  of  the  glory  of  that  blessed  state.  Nor 
shall  we  wait  till  our  coronation  day,  for  con- 
solation.   It  will  mingle  with  our  sufferings, 
and  be  the  ingredient  in  our  cup,  that  will 
taste  stronger  than  our  sufferings.    This  we 
may  gather  from  2  Corinthians  i.  5.  and  iv. 
17.   Better  example  of  patience  under  afflic- 
tion, or  of  authority  from  whence  to  conclude 
the  advantage  of  affliction,  we  cannot  have. 
Therefore,  my  dear  love,  make  yourself  fami- 
liar with  that  subject  in  your  meditation,  that 
is  most  likely  to  be  your  companion  in  life.  You 
may  rest  assured  that  I  shall  never  intention- 
ally add  a  grain  to  the  weight.   I  mean  all  I 
say  and  abundantly  more,  and  am  persuaded, 
when  you  have  conquered  the  difficulties  of 
your  first  settings  out,  which  (I  know  arise 
from  the  modesty  of  your  temper)  you  will 
find  as  little  inconveniences  in  a  town,  as  in 
the  country.  All  will  depend  upon  the  liberty 
you  at  first  give  your  acquaintance.  Give  up 
yourself  seriously  to  the  Lord,  and  he  will 
influence  you  with  his  wisdom  to  take  every 
step  right.    I  convey  this  by  your  old  and 


trusty  servant,  Robert  Deer,  by  whom  I  beg 
to  know  when  I  may  have  a  sight  of  you! 
Should  it  be  at  Mr.  Merryman's,  I  shall  con- 
verse with  you  with  some  appearance  of  re- 
serve, but  do  not  let  that  hurt  you ;  I  shall 
have  no  reserve  in  my  feeling  heart.  It  pants 
for  the  hour  when  we  shall  be  no  more  twain. 
I  am,  yours,  &,c. 

"  Marlborough,  Jan.  18,  1779." 

In  another,  after  speaking  particularly  of  a 
house  and  its  advantages,  he  adds,  "  O  how 
much  of  our  time  and  thoughts  are  taken  up 
about  this  life !  We  had  need  seize  the  earliest 
moment  to  animate  each  other  with  the  thought 
of  the  life  that  is  to  come.  Make  it  your 
daily  concern  to  remember,  that  for  a  covert 
in  time  to  be  screened  from  temptation,  and  a 
habitation  in  glory  we  shall  dwell  in  for  ever, 
we  must  be  debtors  to  Jesus;  and  miserable 
wretches  must  we  be,  if  he  does  not  espouse 
our  cause,  and  take  the  management  of  our  best 
concerns  into  his  own  hands.  Wo  be  to 
the  man  whose  attention  is  swallowed  up 
about  a  being  for  his  body,  and  exposes  his 
immortal  soul  to  wrath  and  destruction.  I 
trust  this  will  not  be  our  case.  In  confidence 
that  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  long  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  time  when  we  shall  aid 
each  other  in  praising  the  rock  upon  which 
we  are  built,  the  Saviour  by  whom  we  are 
redeemed. 

In  the  last,  previous  to  marriage — "  I  am 
sure  you  will  see  the  hand  of  God  in  placing 
us  in  this  dwelling.  My  heart  is  affected 
with  it,  and  my  expectation  of  our  being  mu- 
tually happy  together,  rises  higher  and  high- 
er. I  know  you  will  not  delay  to  come, 
longer  than  is  necessary,  and  for  so  great  a 
blessing  as  I  expect  to  enjoy  in  you,  I  am 
willing  to  tarry  the  Lord's  leisure.  I  am 
but  poorly  with  a  cold,  but  my  soul  is  hap- 
py in  God,  and  while  I  am  thinking  of 
the  prospect  of  a  nuptial  enjoyment  with 
my  very  dear  elect,  I  am  at  the  same  time 
thinking  of  the  period  of  my  departure.  But 
alas !  earth  preponderates  the  scale  of  hea- 
ven. The  Lord  make  me  more  spiritually 
minded." 

We  need  not  wonder  that  a  connexion  thus 
formed  should  have  yielded  so  much  peace  and 
pleasure. 

Equally  excellent  was  he  in  the  relation  of 
a  master.  He  was  one  of  the  good  and  gen- 
tle, he  forebore  threatening :  and  was  there- 
fore served  from  affection  rather  than  duty. 
He  considered  servants  as  humble  friends. 
He  marked  their  peculiar  cases  in  his  devo- 
tion, as  well  as  those  of  the  higher  branches 
of  the  household :  he  always  mentioned  them 
in  his  letters.  He  frequently  observed,  that 
it  was  wrong  to  suffer  a  domestic  to  leave  our 
family  unable  to  read  and  write.  How  often 
have  I  seen  this  matchless  character,  infirm 
and  enervated  to  a  great  degree,  after  toiling 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


77 


all  the  clay  with  his  scholnrs  and  students, 
patiently,  cheerfully,  devoting'  half  an  hour  in 
the  evening  to  the  instruction  of  his  maid 
servant !  These  are  scenes  indeed  that  ex- 
cite little  notice  and  admiration  now ;  hut  a 
day  is  coming,  when  it  will  appear  that  to  be 
truly  great  is  to  be  "  Great  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord."  "  Therefore"  said  one  of  those  who 
had  seen  him  gird  himself  with  a  towel,  and 
pour  water  into  a  basin  to  wash  their  feet, 
and  who  had  themselves  imbibed  the  spirit 
of  the  example — "  Therefore  the  world  know- 
eth  us  not,  because  it  knew  him  not." 

No  person  was  ever  more  formed  for  friend- 
ship than  he,  or  entered  more  fully  into  all  its 
duties.  He  "  showed  himself  friendly,"  and 
he  "  had  friends."  The  circle  was  very  ex- 
tensive and  varied.  He  loved  their  company ; 
he  was  devotedly  regular  and  affectionate  in 
his  correspondence  with  them ;  he  was  grate- 
ful for  their  attentions  and  kindnesses ;  he  en- 
tered into  all  their  circumstancesand  feelings; 
by  the  tenderest  sympathy  he  made  their  trials 
his  own ;  and  was  sure  to  know  their  souls 
in  adversity.  His  friendship  was  the  most 
pious,  the  most  durable,  the  most  disinterest- 
ed. Nothing  was  too  costly  for  him  to  sacri- 
fice, nothing  was  too  arduous  for  him  to  under- 
take, nothing  was  too  humiliating  for  him  to 
undergo,  if  a  friend  was  to  be  served.  "  He 
pleased  not  himself." — He  never  thought  of 
his  own  advantage  or  convenience.  He 
breathed  for  others.  Hence  what  he  says  in 
a  private  letter,  he  might  have  published  to  the 
world  without  any  danger  of  contradiction. — 
"  I  am  happy  that.  God  lias  given  me  not  only 
contentment  with  such  things  as  I  have,  but 
also  an  accommodating  turn  of  mind,  so  that 
I  am  desirous  to  make  all  about  me  happy, 
and  am  happy  in  their  happiness."  Indeed  he 
was  the  Apostle's  representation  of  love  alive. 
"  Charity  suftereth  long,  and  is  kind ;  charity 
envieth  not ;  charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not 
puffed  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly, 
seeketh  not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked, 
thinketh  no  evil ;  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but 
rejoiceth  in  the  truth  ;  beareth  all  things,  be- 
lieveth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth 
all  things." 

This  leads  me  to  remark,  that  nothing  cha- 
racterised Mr.  Winter  more  than  Beneficence. 
His  life  was  an  entire  conformity  to  the  ex- 
ample of  our  Lord,  who  went  about  doing 
good.  This  was  his  study,  his  business,  and 
his  delight.  His  bounty  was  not  pressed  out 
of  him  by  violence,  like  sourness  from  a  crab ; 
it  dropped  like  the  honey  comb.  It  was  not 
an  occasional  effusion  like  a  summer-shower, 
but  a  perennial  spring,  the  streams  of  which 
made  glad  the  sons  and  daughters  of  affliction, 
all  around  him.  And  no  being,  since  the  days 
of  Job,  according  to  his  sphere  and  his  capa- 
city, could,  with  more  truth,  adopt  the  exqui- 
sitely tender  language :  "  When  the  car  heard 
me,  then  it  blessed  me ;  and  when  the  eye 

7* 


saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to  me :  because  I  de- 
livered the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless, 
and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him.  The 
blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came 
upon  me:  and  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to 
sing  for  joy.  I  was  eyes  to  the  blind,  and 
feet  was  1  to  the  lame.  I  was  a  father  to  the 
poor:  and  the  cause  which  I  knew  not,  I 
searched  out." 

Benevolence  is  to  be  judged  of  by  propor- 
tion, by  income,  by  self-denial.  Hence  the 
most  liberal  are  often  those  who  give  the  least. 
Our  Saviour  himself  declared  that  the  poor 
widow  had  given  more  than  all  the  rich. 
They  cast  in  much,  she  only  two  miles ;  but 
they  gave  of  their  abundance,  and  she  of  her 
penury ;  they  could  go  home  after  all  their 
bounty  to  a  table  spread  with  profusion  and 
dainties,  but  she  cast  in  all  that  she  had  for 
the  day,  even  all  her  present  living.  A  pe- 
riod is  approaching  that  will  develope  cha- 
racter, and  weigh  motives ;  and  then  shall 
every  man  have  praise  of  God.  The  hero 
shall  be  applauded  who  went  boldly  to  the 
stake,  as  far  as  he  was  actuated  by  a  concern 
for  the  divine  glory  :  but  that  female  sufferer 
in  yonder  obscure  dwelling,  month  after 
month,  year  after  year,  devoured  by  the  can- 
cer, consuming  the  ear,  the  eye,  the  fore- 
head, till  it  penetrated  the  brain  ;  cheerfully 
enduring  the  anguish,  without  one  murmuring 
word ;  retaining  her  confidence  in  God,  and 
loving  him  under  all  the  severity  of  his  hand; 
talking  of  his  goodness  all  the  day  long,  and 
lamenting  her  own  ingratitude;  longing  to 
be  gone,  yet  willing  to  be  detained.* — She 
will  be  the  martyr  !  The  trial  of  the  one  was 
short,  but  that  of  the  other  protracted ;  in  his 
case  there  was  every  thing  to  rouse  courage, 
in  her  condition  every  thing  to  repress  it ;  he 
was  attended  by  a  multitude  of  spectators, 
she  was  unobserved — here  all  was  pure  prin- 
ciple, unaided  by  any  extrinsical  influence. 
So  it  is  here.  We  are  far  from  wishing  to 
detract  from  the  generous  exertions  of  any ; 
at  the  same  time  we  must  not  separate  prin- 
ciple from  practice.  It  may  be  charitable  to 
give  what  we  do  not  want,  and  cannot  use : 
but  surely  this  is  not  the  criterion  of  charity ; 
it  is  not  the  charity  of  him,  who,  though  he 
was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  came  poor,  that  we 
through  his  poverty  might  be  rich.  Mr. 
Winter's  resources  were  comparatively  very 
limited  and  uncertain ;  by  a  little  common 
reasoning,  especially  by  the  help  of  that  Ca- 
tholic argument,  "  charity  begins  at  home," 
he  might  have  justified  the  application  of  the 
whole  of  his  income  to  himself ;  but  his  case 
was  to  separate  every  thing  superfluous  from 
what  was  really  needful;  and  gratifications  in 
books,  conveniences  in  situation,  accommoda- 

*  This  representation  is  drawn  from  the  life,  and  was 
exemplified  in  a  good  woman,  whom  the  Author  bu- 
ried the  morning  he  wrote  this — it  was  from  Mrs. 
Bailey. 


78 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


tions  in  traveling;,  and  indulgences  with  re- 
gard to  a  thousand  nameless  things,  he  re- 
fused himself,  in  order  to  possess  some  ability 
to  be  serviceable  to  others.  And,  his  circum- 
stances considered,  no  one  can  imagine  how 
much  good  he  accomplished. 

We  read  of  the  alms  deeds  which  Dorcas 
did,  and  one  is  specified — her  making  gar- 
ments for  the  poor.  Some  who  abound  in 
wealth  will  perhaps  consent  to  devote  the 
time,  and  to  take  the  trouble  that  is  requisite 
to  put  their  hand  into  their  pocket,  and  even 
to  bring  it  out  again — but  Mr.  Winter  was  a 
benefactor.  He  was  seen  visiting  the  father- 
less and  the  widows  in  their  affliction;  he 
was  seen  in  the  chamber  of  sickness,  and  by 
the  bed  of  languishing;  he  was  seen  wher- 
ever disappointments  and  losses  had  left  no- 
thing but  the  attraction  of  misery:  he  and  the 
selfish  herd  were  sure  to  meet  very  near  the 
door;  they  leaving  their  friends  when  they 
found  nothing  more  was  to  be  enjoyed ;  and 
he  hastening  thither  as  soon  as  he  found  some- 
thing was  necessary  to  be  done — the  image 
of  him  who  has  said  "I  will  be  with  thee  in 
trouble."  Is  it  too  minute  to  mention  that 
his  students  knew  what  it  was  on  a  Christ- 
mas-eve, as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  to  accom- 
pany him  with  large  baskets  of  meat  to  leave 
in  the  houses  of  the  poor ;  and  then  return 
for  more,  and  take  another  route;  and  thus 
gratuitously  furnish  those  with  a  comfortable 
meal,  who,  notwithstanding  all  Paley's  "  Rea- 
sons for  Contentment,  addressed  to  the  Poor," 
could  never  purchase  one  for  themselves.  It 
would  be  endless  to  particularize  instances 
of  a  similar  kind. 

He  devised  liberal  things.  If  ever  a  scene 
of  misery  occurred  within  his  reach,  it  in- 
stantly set  his  thoughts,  his  feet,  his  tongue, 
his  pen  in  motion.  When  we  can  do  very 
little  personally,  we  may  often  do  much  by 
means  of  others.  He  was  always  stimulating 
his  connexions.  In  private  companies,  and 
at  public  meetings,  he  had  commonly  some 
case  of  affliction  to  propose.  Numberless 
were  the  letters  he  wrote,  though  he  was  so 
driven  tor  time,  and  pressed  by  business,  con- 
taining applications  in  behalf  of  orphanism, 
widowhood,  or  age.  The  distresses  which 
rendered  such  petitions  necessary,  were 
patiently  stated  at  large,  and  feelingly  re- 
commended, while  by  additional  reflections, 
he  endeavoured  to  render  his  address  a  letter 
of  friendship  as  well  as  of  charity. — And  no 
one  could  refuse  him.  It  would  be  curious 
to  conjecture  how  much  money  he  obtained 
in  the  course  of  his  life  by  such  importunity. 

His  disposition  being  known,  and  his 
character  established,  he  was  honoured  by 
several,  who  statedly  made  him  their  almoner. 
Were  the  names  of  these  generous  individuals 
published,  the  late  Mr.  John  Thornton,  and 
the  present  Mr.  Henry  Thornton,  would  stand 
peculiarly  distinguished.    In  the  distribution 


of  such  money  he  acted  with  the  greatest 
impartiality,  prudence,  promptitude,  and  fidel 
ity,  and  fully  met  the  wishes  of  the  donors. 
"That  day  will  declare"  how  far  he  was  by 
such  indulgences,  from  diminishing  personal 
liberality,  or  applying  to  his  own  use  what 
was  intended  for  others.  He  refused  the 
liberty  to  divide  it  with  them,  even  when  he 
was  allowed  to  take  it.  Hence  in  a  letter  to 
Mr.  L — e,  in  1801,  he  says,  "I  was  truly 
concerned  to  hear  of  dear  Mr.  Henshaw's  re- 
moval. Blessed  be  God,  he  lived  to  purpose. 
Oh  that  his  mantle,  or  what  is  the  same,  his 
spirit  may  drop  on  his  relatives,  who  inherit 
his  temporal  blessings.  I  long  wished  to  in- 
form you  that  he  kindly  honoured  my  applica- 
tion of  the  24th  of  November,  on  the  l?th  of 
January,  with  £15,  and  liberty  to  appropriate 
any  part  of  it  to  myself  But  no — I  petition- 
ed on  the  behalf  of  the  poor,  whose  indigence 
is  extreme,  and  the  whole  sum  shall  be  faith- 
fully applied  to  them." 

It  is  well  known  that  if  any  thing  uncom- 
mon or  delicate  was  sent  to  him  in  the  way 
of  a  present,  little,  if  any  of  it  fell  to  his 
share ;  he  would  divide  it  among  his  friends, 
and  these  were  often  "  The  poor"  and  the 
maimed,  the  halt  and  the  blind."  Ah ! 
"  They  could  not  recompense  thee ;  but  thou 
shalt  be  recompensed  at  the  resurrection  of 
the  just." 

He  was  given  to  hospitality,  and  used  it 
without  grudging.  His  house  was  always 
open  ;  and  a  welcome  to  enter  or  remain,  was 
too  easily  discerned  not  to  be  abused.  There 
were  those  who  took  advantage  of  his  kind- 
ness to  sponge  upon  him,  and  incommode 
him;  and  even  some  who  had  it  in  their 
power  to  remunerate  him,  the  expenses  and 
inconveniences  they  occasioned. 

It  was  his  fate  to  meet  with  peculiar  in- 
gratitude in  many  instances  from  those  he 
befriended :  yet  this  neither  checked  nor 
chilled  him  in  his  benevolent  exertions.  It 
only  afforded  an  opportunity  to  illustrate  the 
purity  of  his  motives,  and  to  show  that  he  did 
good  for  the  sake  of  doing  it.  I  never  heard 
him  mention  one  of  these  instances,  even  in 
the  way  of  complaint :  and  when  others  have 
been  indignant  at  them,  he  has  without  ex- 
ception, tried  to  apologize  for  them.  The 
following  fact  may  serve  to  explain  and  verify 
my  meaning : — While  I  was  under  his  care 
at  Marlborough,  among  other  beneficiaries 
was  an  aged  female,  whom  he  almost  entire- 
ly supported  for  a  good  while  before  her  death. 
So  far  from  being  duly  sensible  of  her  obliga- 
tions to  him,  she  betrayed  much  infirmity  in 
several  very  opposite  tempers,  so  as  to  induce 
many  to  speak  very  severely  of  her.  When 
she  was  buried,  he  preached  her  funeral  ser- 
mon from  the  words  of  our  Lord,  "Judge  not, 
that  ye  be  not  judged.  For  with  what  judg- 
ment ye  judge,  ye  shall  be  judged ;  and  with 
what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


7!) 


to  you  again;  and  why  beholdest  thou  the 
mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye,  but  con- 
siderest  not  the  beam  that  is  in  thine  own 
eye ! ! C 

Nor  was  he  free  from  enemies.  It  might 
have  been  supposed  that  such  a  character 
could  never  have  provoked  any  kind  of  hos- 
tility. But  how  then  would  he  have  been 
conformed  to  his  Lord  and  Saviour  who  was 
all  excellency,  all  amiableness ;  or  how  would 
he  have  escaped  the  denunciation,  "  Wo  unto 
you,  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you." 
Things  like  these,  without  justifying-  the 
agents,  are  permitted  and  overruled  for  good. 
They  try,  and  they  discover,  distinguishing 
excellency.  They  are  like  the  field  of  battle 
to  the  hero.  "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is 
greater  than  the  mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth 
his  own  spirit,  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 
"  Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil 
with  good."  "  It  is  the  glory  of  a  man  to 
pass  by  a  transgression."  Laden  with  this 
as  well  as  every  other  kind  of  honour,  he 
descended  to  the  grave.  A  man  who  for 
years  had  treated  him  very  unkindly,  and 
given  him  much  trouble  and  uneasiness, 
stood  in  need  of  his  assistance  in  a  particular 
case  some  months  before  his  death.  He  went 
and  applied  to  him  without  any  acknowledg- 
ments of  repentance.  Mr.  Winter  overlook- 
ed his  injurious  treatment,  and  without  drop- 
ping a  reflection,  or  discovering  one  emotion 
of  resentment,  politely  received  him,  and  at- 
tended to  his  request  The  consequence  was 
natural.  I  saw  him  at  the  interment  among 
the  mourning  crowd  weeping  bitterly.  An- 
other person  who  was  under  great  obligations 
to  him,  and  whose  family  he  had  served  in 
various  ways,  conceived  a  prejudice  against 
him,  and  persecuted  him  with  remorseless 
malignity.  The  deceased,  after  doing  every 
thing  that  gentleness  could  devise  to  soften 
him  in  vain,  mentions  him  in  his  will,  and 
"  Bequeaths  to  him  his  dying  forgiveness." 

His  will  indeed  was  all  like  himself.  It  is 
full  of  regard  to  the  temporal  and  spiritual 
welfare  of  others.  Nearly  all  his  substance  is 
appropriated  to  civil  and  sacred  benefaction. 

Innocency  was  a  most  prominent  trait  in 
the  character  of  the  deceased.  Hence  it  was 
one  day  wisely  and  significantly  said,  by  his 
esteemed  friend,  Mr.  Matthew  Wilks,  "  I  am 
never  with  this  man  without  being  reminded 
of  Paradisaical  innocence."  The  reflection 
was  as  full  of  truth,  as  it  was  of  taste :  num- 
bers when  they  read  it  will  remember,  and 
weep.  Hence  too,  his  dear  and  honoured 
friend,  Mr.  Hill,  with  his  usual  force  and 
humour,  said,  "  Mr.  Winter  would  make  the 
worst  devil  of  any  man  in  the  world."  It  is 
awful  to  think  how  many  beings  there  are, 
human  in  name  and  shape,  but  infernal  in  dis- 
position and  action ;  and  who  require  only  a 
little  change  of  place  to  make  them  completely 
diabolical.    But  what  a  transformation  must 


Cornelius  Winter  have  undergone,  before  he 
could  haveborne  the  mostdistant  resemblance 
to  one  of  these  unhappy  spirits  !  So  full  of  tho 
meekness  and  gentleness  of  the  Prince  of  Peace 
was  he,  that  a  friend,  very  remote  from  adu- 
lation, and  of  very  discriminating  judgment, 
in  this  city,  more  than  once  said,  after  he  had 
been  the  subject  of  conversation,  "  I  have 
long  thought  he  is  more  like  Jesus  Christ, 
than  any  man  on  earth."  I  hope  I  shall  be 
excused  for  these  insertions ;  the  gratification 
they  afford  while  writing  them,  is  beyond  ex- 
pression. And  much  of  the  pleasure  arises 
not  only  from  my  regard  to  a  character,  the 
like  of  which  I  despair  to  see  again,  but  from 
a  conviction  that  the  praises  here  bestowed 
upon  him,  do  not  savour  of  the  falsehood,  or 
lavishness  of  common  eulogy. 

I  wish  also  this  part  of  his  character  to  be 
rendered  exemplary.  Innocency  may  be 
deemed  a  kind  of  negative  quality,  but  it  is 
an  enjoined  one,  "  Be  harmless  and  holy ;" 
"  Give  none  offence,  neither  to  the  Jews  nor 
to  the  Gentiles,  nor  to  the  church  of  God." 
David  was  so  alive  to  this,  that  he  was  check- 
ed from  repining  and  murmuring  by  the 
thought  of  it:  "If  I  say  I  will  speak  thus; 
behold  I  should  offend  against  the  generation 
of  thy  children."  It  is  surely  an  evidence 
of  the  degeneracy  of  the  age,  that  an  inoffen- 
sive man  is  an  expression  used  generally  to 
insinuate  some  imagined  intellectual  deficien- 
cy ;  as  if  there  could  be  no  good  sense  with- 
out cunning  and  villany.  But  as  one  has 
justly  observed,  "The  craftiest  villain  is  the 
greatest  fool,  and  the  harmless  Christian  the 
wisest  man."  It  is  true,  inoffensiveness  and 
talent  do  not  always  go  together,  but  neither 
do  wickedness  and  wit:  and  a  man  of  inferior 
endowments,  with  an  honest  and  good  heart, 
is  a  far  more  valuable  character,  than  one  of 
greater  capacities,  who,  while  he  has  the 
wisdom  of  the  serpent,  has  the  poison  too. 
Call  this  quality  if  you  please,  even  an  infan- 
tile property,  provided  you  remember  a  piece 
of  history:  "At  the  same  time  came  the  dis- 
ciples unto  Jesus,  saying,  Who  is  the  greatest 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  1  And  Jesus  called 
a  little  child  unto  him,  and  set  him  in  the 
midst  of  them,  and  said,  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as 
little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Whosoever  therefore 
shall  humble  himself  as  this  little  child,  the 
same  is  the  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven." So  much  more  valuable  in  his  follow- 
ers, and  in  his  judgment,  are  the  simplicity 
and  innocency  of  a  child,  than  the  corusca- 
tions of  intellect,  the  speculations  of  philoso- 
phy, the  intrigues  of  politicians,  and  the  ex- 
ploits of  heroes. 

But  it  must  be  confessed,  that  this  inoffen- 
siveness is  peculiarly  attractive,  where  it  is 
combined  with  qualities  that  would  render  a 
man  dangerous  without  it :  where  the  sublime 


80  MEMOIRS  OF 

is  softened  by  the  beautiful ;  where  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  babe  tempers  the  wisdom  of  the 
sage.  "  In  malice  be  ye  children,  but  in  un- 
derstanding be  ye  full  grown  men :  I  would 
have  you  wise  unto  that  which  is  good  and 
simple  concerning  evil."  And  who  did  not 
perceive  this  in  Cornelius  Winter  7  How  fear- 
ful was  he  of  injuring  the  honour  of  religion, 
and  causing  the  way  of  truth  to  be  evil  spoken 
of!  How  tender  was  he  of  the  purity  of  ano- 
ther's mind,  and  the  peace  of  another's  con- 
science'! With  what  truth  could  he  have 
adopted  the  language  of  the  apostle,  "  Where- 
fore, if  meat  make  my  brother  to  offend,  I 
will  eat  no  flesh  while  the  world  standeth, 
lest  I  make  my  brother  to  offend."  He  made 
straight  paths  for  his  feet,  for  the  sake  of  those 
that  were  walking  after  him,  lest  that  which 
was  lame  should  be  turned  out  of  the  way. 
His  concern  was  to  heal,  not  to  stumble.  If 
a  brother  was  overtaken  in  a  fault,  he  restor- 
ed such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  con- 
sidering himself,  lest  he  also  should  be  tempt- 
ed. No  one  was  ever  injured  by  his  example, 
or  his  speech.  He  made  no  one  angry,  no 
one  sad.  His  whole  life  was  an  exemplifica- 
tion of  the  admonition  which  Paul  gave  to 
his  son  Timothy,  and  which  he  often  gave  to 
his  sons,  "  Speak  evil  of  no  man."  And  we 
know  who  hath  said,  "  If  a  man  offend  not  in 
word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man,  and  able 
also  to  bridle  the  whole  body." 

As  the  thoughts  we  entertain  of  ourselves 
influence  us  in  judging  of  others,  the  man 
who  designs  no  evil  often  fears  none ;  hence 
he  is  off  his  guard,  and  finds  himself  some- 
times involved  in  difficulties  which  are  es- 
caped by  those,  who,  from  the  reflection  of 
their  own  sentiments,  keep  a  sharp  look-out 
upon  others.  This  was  not  uncommonly  the 
case  with  our  departed  friend.  But  I  am 
persuaded,  that  notwithstanding  these  oc- 
casional disadvantages,  he  found  his  innocent 
and  unsuspicious  temper  its  own  reward. 
"  Who  is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  ye  be 
followers  of  that  which  is  good  V  Sufferings 
that  befall  us  in  this  way  will  assuredly  be 
overruled  for  our  benefit.  Yea,  our  own 
feelings  will  more  than  indemnify  us  for  our 
losses.  Nothing  is  so  much  to  be  deprecated 
as  an  habitual  wretched  state  of  suspicion  and 
dread;  having  no  confidence  in  those  with 
whom  we  have  to  do ;  if  we  sit  still — to  be 
listening  for  the  intrusion  of  thieves,  or  if  we 
walk  out — to  be  thinking  of  nothing  but  tread- 
ing upon  toads  and  serpents. 

The  candour  of  Mr.  Winter  was  remark- 
able. His  natural  temper  was  unusually 
sweet,  and  religion  improved  it.  He  held  his 
sentiments  with  firmness;  but  distinguished 
not  only  between  the  true  and  the  false,  but 
between  the  true  and  the  important.  He  did 
not  consider  every  tiling  alike  momentous: 
and  therefore  he  did  not  press  it  with  the 
same  degree  of  zeal.    I  never  remember 


C.  WINTER. 

while  I  was  under  his  care,  any  attempt  to 
form  my  mind  on  inferior  questions  and  dis- 
putes: he  endeavoured  to  give  it  in  all  these 
cases  a  proper  temper,  but  not  a  particulai 
bias.  "  Recollect,"  said  he,  "  that  it  is  pos- 
sible to  defend  your  own  fort  without  storm- 
ing another's  battery.  Maintain  by  scriptural 
argument,  your  own  principles  and  practices 
with  modest  confidence;  but  rail  not,  insinu- 
ate no  reflection  on  your  opponents;  name 
them  not  unless — with  respect." 

Though  he  was  a  Dissenter  from  convic- 
tion before  he  had  established  his  seminary, 
he  sent  one  student  to  Oxford,  and  another 
to  Cambridge.  He  admired  the  Liturgy;  and 
was  attached  to  instrumental  music  in  the 
service  of  God. 

Though  he  was  a  Pa;dobaptist,  he  was  on 
terms  of  the  most  cordial  friendship  with  Mr. 
Francis,  of  Horslcy,  and  his  brethren  of  the 
same  persuasion,  in  Gloucestershire,  and  else- 
where. And  here  let  me  mention  a  circum- 
stance not  invidiously,  but  to  designate  the 
man.  He  was  once  desired  by  a  Baptist  mi- 
nister to  preach  for  him.  The  sermon  imme- 
diately preceded  the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's 
supper:  to  which  his  discourse  was  prepa- 
ratory. When  the  public  service  was  over, 
he  was  informed  that  he  must  excuse  their 
asking  him  to  communicate,  as  it  was  con- 
trary to  the  law  of  the  house.  He  very 
cheerfully  withdrew  into  the  gallery  as  a 
spectator :  and  all  the  remark  he  made  in  re- 
lating it  was,  "  That  he  much  enjoyed  the 
service,  and  communed  with  them  in  spi- 
rit." 

Here  is  a  case  which,  arguing  a  prior  i,  would 
appear  incredibly  strange,  at  least  to  some. 
Here  are  two  parties  of  Christians,  agreed  in 
all  their  doctrinal,  ecclesiastical,  and  discipli- 
narian principles — differing  only  in  one  point 
— and  this  not  essential  to  salvation — even  by 
the  acknowledgments  of  both,  however  in- 
consistent with  such  an  avowal,  excessive 
zeal  on  either  side  may  be:  and  yet  these 
opponents,  who,  when  they  mutually  explain, 
can  hardly  find  ground  enough  to  stand  upon, 
while  they  are  disputing,  have  commonly  be- 
trayed such  animosity,  that  a  man  of  liberal 
disposition,  who  will  not  help  forward  the 
contention,  is  not  supposed  to  have  any  fixed 
conviction  upon  the  subject,  and  our  admired 
poet  has  mentioned  it,  as  the  extreme  in- 
fluence of  the  power  of  charity,  could  it  in- 
duce them  to  be  friendly  towards  each  other — 

"  Relenting  forms  would  lose  their  power,  or  cease, 
And  e'en  the  dipp'd  and  sprinkled  live  in  peace." 

What  Dr.  Rippon  said  at  the  funeral  of 
Mr.  Ryland,  many  might  have  said  at  the 
death  of  Mr.  Winter ;  "  We  talk  of  candour, 
he  had  it."  Mrs.  Shipway,  of  Bristol,  was 
his  very  intimate  friend,  and  many  of  Mr. 
Winter's  letters  to  her  are  now  before  me. 
She  had  belonged  to  the  Tabernacle ;  but  in 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


si 


1776,  it  appears  that,  from  conviction,  she 
was  baptized  by  the  late  venerable  Hugh 
Evans.  A  transition  of  this  kind  too  often 
alienates  the  affections  of  those  who  complain 
of  the  loss  they  have  sustained  ;  and  shyness, 
if  not  aversion,  takes  place  of  cordiality.  But 
this  was  far  from  being  the  case  with  this 
man  of  God.  His  intercourse  and  corres- 
pondence were  as  frequent  and  affectionate 
as  before.  As  some  bigots  may  consider  this 
a  moral  phenomenon,  let  us  raise  their  won- 
der by  introducing  a  part  of  two  letters  the 
deceased  wrote  to  the  individual  above  men- 
tioned. 

"My  dear  friend, — On  Saturday  I  ar- 
rived here,  after  being  absent  more  than 
fourteen  months.  In  this  time  I  have  fre- 
quently thought  of,  and  purposed  to  write  to 
you,  but  something  always  prevented.  It  is 
not  yet  too  late  to  testify  my  steady  attach- 
ment to  an  old  friend,  who  I  did  not  know 
till  I  came  here,  had  been  buried  in  baptism. 
Well,  I  can  have  no  just  objection  to  that 
part  of  your  conduct,  though  there  is  no  ap- 
parent probability  that  I  shall  follow  your 
steps.  Through  mercy  I  have  learned  to 
yield  my  prejudices  to  the  wind,  in  matters 
of  faith  and  practice,  while  I  have  reason  to 
hope  my  differing  brethren  are  following  the 
dictates  of  a  tender  conscience  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is,  and  ever 
has  been,  the  lot  of  the  poor  Methodists  to 
lose  their  children,  but  this  is  our  comfort, 
we  shall  not  lose  the  glory  of  their  birth.  I 
pray  that  you  may  derive  much  real  advan- 
tage from  your  submission.  The  good  Lord 
carry  on  his  work  upon  your  heart,  and  keep 
you  a  dependent  on  his  dear  Son.  1  do  not 
doubt  but  he  will :  it  is  not  his  usual  method  to 
lead  us  into  a  deep  knowledge  of  ourselves, 
and  impart  to  us  a  growing  acquaintance 
with  Jesus,  and  then  cast  us  off.  Owing  to 
the  power  of  temptation,  I  find  it  hard  to 
hang  upon  his  breast,  yet  by  the  arm  of  his 
power  defending  and  helping  me,  I  have 
hold  of  him  still,  and  trust  I  shall  be  able  to 
maintain  it.  I  am  yet  indulged  with  the 
liberty  of  speaking  in  his  name,  and  that 
with  some  little  success.  Traveling  with- 
out intermission  is  disagreeable  to  nature, 
but  it  has  its  reward,  and  a  fear  lest  I  should 
take  a  false  step,  disposes  me  to  go  forward. 
Perhaps  I  may  get  home  sooner  than  I  ex- 
pect. Many  of  my  dear  friends  are  safely 
housed  of  late,  it  may  be  to  escape  a  violent 
storm.  What  if  it  should  overtake  us  in  the 
wilderness ! — Jesus  is  a  refuge,  and  that  is 
enough. — I  wish  you  would  particularly  re- 
member to  give  my  dear  love  to  Miss  Dela- 
main,  Mrs.  Brooks,  and  the  mourner  in  Zion, 
under  the  same  roof,  and  as  many  beside  as 
know  or  inquire  after  me.  Poor  Bristol !  I 
know  thee,  and  I  love  thee,  but  have  no 
more  desire  to  see  thee.  Could  I  draw  forth 
L 


some  of  its  select  inhabitants,  to  this  little 
spiritual  Elysium,  and  you  among  the  rest, 
1  should  be  glad,  and  do  not  doubt  but  we 
should  anticipate  something  of  that  land, 
where  we  shall  meet  to  part  no  more.  But 
we  must  submit  to  our  Father's  will,  and 
bless  him  lor  the  means  he  uses,  to  work  that 
submission  in  us. — Pray  for  me,  my  dear 
friend,  and  rest  assured  that  I  continue, 
yours,  affectionately,  in  our  dear  Lord  Jesus, 

"C.  W. 

"  Rodborough,  April  15,  1776." 

"  My  dear  friend, — I  am  obliged  to  you 
for  your  kind  favour.  I  shall  always  be  glad 
of  a  long  letter  from  you,  but  must  beg  you 
to  accept  a  short  one  from  me.  I  have  so 
many  interruptions  in  my  sphere,  that  I  can- 
not go  on  with  my  necessary  studies.  I  re- 
joice to  hear  that  the  Lord's  work  is  going 
forward  upon  yourself  and  others.  4s  to 
what  you  hint  about  a  certain  minister,  I  am 
unacquainted  with  it.  To  his  own  Master  he 
stands  or  falls ;  whatever  imprudent  expres- 
sions may  have  dropped  from  his  lips,  I  hope 
the  Lord  will  pardon.  I  can  observe  too  much 
zeal  for  a  party  both  among  Baptists  and  Pai- 
dobaptists,  and  am  ready  to  conclude,  the  sub- 
ject in  debate  is  a  partition-wall  God  never 
intended  to  separate  between  Christian  and 
Christian,  though  he  permits  it.  Good  Mr. 
Bunyan's  view  of  it,  is  too  general  and  Ca- 
tholic to  satisfy  the  mind  of  a  contracted  bi- 
got; if  followed,  it  would  cut  off  an  oppor- 
tunity for  glorying  in  man.  If  nothing  but 
what  is  consistent  with  sound  argument  and 
good  manners  is  advanced  from  the  Taberna- 
cle pulpit  upon  the  subject,  I  do  not  see  why 
it  should  give  more  offence  than  what,  in  the 
same  manner,  comes  from  Broadmead.  I 
highly  esteem  Messrs.  Evans,  believe  them 
to  be  dear  ministers  of  Christ,  and  think  they 
have  an  undoubted  right  to  assist  my  differ- 
ing brethren  in  complying  with  the  dictates 
of  conscience,  and  pray,  that  through  the 
divine  power  attending  their  ministry,  your 
soul  may  be  more  dead  to  the  world,  more 
conformed  to  the  image  of  Jesus,  and  more 
than  ever  alive  to  God.  I  do  not  wish  ever 
to  enter  upon  a  controversy  with  you ;  my 
objections  against  a  second  baptism  are  at 
present  insurmountable ;  my  satisfaction  with 
what  I  received  in  infancy  is  entirely  satis- 
factory, nor  have  I  the  least  uncharitable  re- 
flection to  make  upon  you.  I  believe,  in  the 
world  of  spirits,  the  distinction  will  be  lost, 
and  therefore  would  avoid  any  prejudice  from 
it  now.  Pray  for  me ;  you  will  not  see  me 
unless  you  come  into  the  country ;  here  I 
shall  be  glad  to  see  you,  and  here  you  will 
see  something  of  the  Lord's  glory  as  well  as 
at  Bristol. — lily  kind  love  to  all  dear  inquiring 
friends. — There  are  many  near  you  I  love  in 
truth,  and  hope  nothing  will  interrupt  our 
social  enjoyment  above.   Wishing  you  every 


82 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


blessing  a  covenant  God  can  bestow.  I  re- 
main, yours,  &c. 

"  Rodborough,  August  14,  1776." 

Though  he  was  a  Calvinist  lie  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  Mr.  Wesley,  and 
often  spent  some  days  with  Mr.  Fletcher; 
and,  in  the  earlier  volumes  of  the  Arminian 
Magazine  may  be  found  some  specimens  of 
their  mutual  correspondence.  When,  there- 
fore, the  Methodists  two  or  three  years  before 
his  death,  erected  a  chapel  in  Painswick, 
though  some  of  his  people  were  displeased, 
viewing  it  rather  in  a  way  of  opposition,  he 
was  far  from  complaining :  and  the  Sabbath  it 
was  opened  he  largely  and  particularly  prayed 
for  the  success  of  the  gospel  in  it,  in  each  of 
his  public  services. 

In  delivering  his  most  important  sentiments 
he  always  remembered  the  advice  of  the  Apos- 
tle, "  Speaking  the  truth  in  love."  He  did 
not  suppose  that  religion  was  an  altar  that, 
sanctified  every  gift.  He  knew  that  the  wrath 
of  man  worketh  not  the  righteousness  of  God. 
He  therefore  never  employed  a  pen  dipped  in 
gall,  nor  a  tongue  set  on  fire  of  hell.  He  left 
those  who  differed  from  him  the  most  widely, 
to  their  own  Master  ;  and  treated  them  with 
the  greatest  affability  and  kindness.  With 
some  of  them  he  was  on  terms  of  the  most 
friendly  intercourse,  though  they  never  en- 
tered the  doors  of  his  meeting,  till  a  regard 
for  his  character  compelled  them  to  go  to  his 
grave  to  weep  there. 

The  little  liberality  that  prevailed  among 
the  professedly  peculiar  followers  of  Christ 
made  him  often  sigh,  and  long  for  heaven. 

In  a  letter  to  lady  H  ,  he  remarks  "  All 

distinctions  that  now  divide  the  people  of  God 
will  then  be  lost.  Though  we  are  now  dis- 
tinguished by  our  peculiarities,  we  should  not 
forget  that  we  are  but  as  so  many  tribes  in 
the  same  Israel,  and  as  so  many  families  in 
the  same  tribes.  When  I  regulate  my  views 
by  these  Scriptural  considerations,  it  makes 
me  very  easy  about  who  has  the  precedency, 
or  what  is  the  plan  that  seems  to  have  most 
of  the  divine  smiles.  My  utmost  ambition  is 
to  walk  in  love,  and  so  to  improve  my  humble 
talent,  that  I  may  not  be  found  with  the 
wicked  and  unprofitable  servant." 

In  another,  to  the  same  personage  : — "  It  is 
not  always  necessary  to  take  sides,  and  yet 
it  is  almost  impossible  often  to  be  indifferent. 
When  brought  into  such  a  dilemma,  a  tender 
mind  feels  perhaps  more  than  the  contending 
parties.  This,  among  other  tilings,  serves  to 
imbitter  even  the  church  as  well  as  the  world, 
and  to  make  us  desire  to  be  absent  from  the 
body,  and  present  with  the  Lord,  where  im- 
perfections in  knowledge  will  be  no  longer  the 
occasion  of  differences  in  sentiment  between 
the  Arminian  and  Calvinist,  the  Churchman 
and  Dissenter,  the  Baptist  and  Psedobaptist." 
In  another  letter  to  this  lady — "  I  have  always 


considered  the  church  rather  through  the  me- 
dium of  Catholicism  than  as  in  party-detach- 
ments ;  and  am  persuaded  that,  if  that  gene- 
rosity and  real  candour  which  make  no 
inconsiderable  part  of  our  religion  were  mu- 
tually cultivated,  our  joint  object  would  be, 
more  to  spread  the  gospel  than  to  divide  its 
professions  into  parties." 

In  a  letter  to  a  young  friend  who  had  ex- 
pressed his  scruples  concerning  the  book  of 
Canticles,  he  says — "  Come  and  see  me.  We 
will  talk  over  the  matter,  and  if  we  cannot 
unite  in  sentiment,  we  will  agree  to  differ ; 
we  will  not  quarrel  about  Solomon's  Song,  if 
you  will  agree  to  love  a  greater  than  Solo- 
mon." 

No  one  will  blame  me  for  concluding  this 
article  with  an  additional  testimony  of  the 
esteem  in  which  his  character  was  held  by 
persons  of  different  opinions  ;  and  by  another 
instance  of  that  graceful  candour  by  which  he 
deserved  it 

• 

"  Respected  friend,  William  Jay, — Ob- 
serving- in  the  Evangelical  Magazine,  thy 
intention  announced  to  the  public  of  editing 
Memoirs  and  Select  Letters  of  my  late  highly 
valued  friend,  Cornelius  Winter,  I  could  not 
find  my  mind  excused  or  satisfied  to  omit 
sending  thee  the  inclosed ;  the  return  of  which 
I  request. — Accept  every  good  wish  for  the 
success  of  the  work,  and  that  of  thy  ministe- 
rial gospel  labours,  which  I  have  been  occa- 
sionally favoured  to  enjoy  through  the  me- 
dium of  the  press.  I  am,  with  every  respectful 
regard,  thy  sincere  friend, 

"JOSEPH  RICKMAN. 

"  Cliffe  Lewis." 

"  Dear  sir, — The  punctuality  of  the 
Friends  is  an  example  to  Christians  at  large ; 
I  wish  I  could  more  exactly  copy  it,  but  volu- 
isse  only  in  this  case,  non  satis  est.  The 
last  time  I  was  favoured  with  an  interview 
with  you,  I  promised  to  transmit  to  you  the 
copy  of  Dr.  Fothergill's  letter  to  Mr.  White- 
field,  but  it  being  mislaid,  I  could  not  perform 
my  promise.  It  was  some  years  before  I 
found  it ;  I  have  now  an  opportunity  to  send 
it ;  it  is  accompanied  with  my  best  and  affec- 
tionate wishes,  and  would  also  with  a  greater 
number  of  lines  if  I  were  not  circumscribed 
for  time.  An  all-wise  Providence  has  trans- 
ferred me  from  the  unfruitful  soil  of  Marlbo- 
rough, to  the  somewhat  more  fruitful  soil  of 
Painswick,  where  I  am  working  in  the  vine- 
yard according  to  the  ability  which  God  has 
given  me,  and  waiting  for  my  discharge  from 
labour  and  dismission  from  life.  Though  I 
had  really  lost  recollection  of  your  name,  I 
feel  a  warm  attachment  to  your  person,  and 
am,  in  the  love  of  him,  who,  in  the  dispensa- 
tion of  the  fulness  of  time,  will  gather  toge- 
ther in  one  all  things  in  Christ. — Yours,  &c. 

«  C.  W. 

"  Painswick,  Aug.  26,  1791." 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


83 


"  A  few  friends  are  in  this  town  with  whom 
I  should  be  glad  to  accompany  you  to  meeting, 
either  to  join  in  silent  waiting  upon  God,  or 
to  receive  instruction  from  your  lips.  It 
would  no  less  give  me  pleasure  to  lodge  you 
under  our  humble  roof.  Farewell." 

"  Dear  sir, — Your  favour  which  you  in- 
dulged me  with  on  the  receipt  of  Dr.  Fother- 
gill's  letter  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  is  among  my 
papers.  It  deserved  an  acknowledgment  be- 
fore now,  but  as  I  hinted  to  you,  so  it  proves, 
I  am  a  very  bad  and  irregular  correspondent. 
However,  my  friend  coming  into  your  town, 
£  must  make  her  the  bearer  of  a  line.  I  hope 
it  will  find  you  the  same  man  in  disposition 
and  resolution;  disposed  as  you  long  have 
been,  to  give  the  world  to  come  the  prefer- 
ence of  this,  and  resolved,  in  the  strength  of 
divine  grace,  to  obtain  by  vigorous  exertion, 
in  compliance  with  your  Lord's  will,  and  by 
firm  reliance  upon  his  promise,  the  prize  of 
your  high  calling.  O  dear  sir,  what  reason 
have  we  to  be  thankful  that  we  have  Scrip- 
tural ground  to  hope  we  are  in  the  number  of 
the  chosen,  and  called,  and  faithful,  and  for 
that  good  hope  through  grace,  which  maketh 
not  ashamed.  Under  different  professional 
distinction  we  appear  to  the  men  of  the  world, 
as  though  we  were  going  a  different  road,  or 
as  though  there  could  be  no  central  point  in 
which  we  could  meet;  but  we  know  to  the 
contrary.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  centre  of  unity, 
and  by  him,  through  one  Spirit,  we  have  ac- 
cess to  the  Father.  The  Lord,  in  tenderness 
to  our  weakness,  can  admit  of  our  differences, 
and  yet  can  give  us  a  disposition  to  receive 
the  same  essential  teaching,  and  will  no 
doubt  consider  us  in  the  number  of  the  chil- 
dren of  the  church,  concerning  whom  it  is 
promised  they  shall  all  be  taught  of  God.  The 
happy  consequent  is,  that  we  shall  go  unto 
Jesus  Christ,  and  by  renewed  acts  of  faith  re- 
new our  application  daily  unto  him.  It  is  his 
precious  blood  that  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and 
by  renewed  exertions  of  faith,  we  acquire  its 
cleansing  virtue.  The  agency  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  exerted  for  our  instruction  and  guid- 
ance into  the  way  of  all  truth  ;  and  when  we 
have  made  the  necessary  advancement,  we 
shall  be  taken  from  the  school  of  instruction 
to  the  mansion  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  where 
our  joy,  which  is  here  incomplete,  shall  be 
full.  What  wonder  is  it  if  with  these  views 
we  should  leave  a  noisy  world  to  settle  its 
own  quarrels,  and  fight  its  own  battles,  wait- 
ing to  see  the  events  which  the  all-wise  and 
overruling  Providence  will  bring  about  by 
the  contentions  and  dissentions  of  men.  1 
allude  now,  as  you  may  perceive,  to  the  state 
of  the  political  world,  and  to  the  several  fo- 
reign events,  which  perhaps  we  could  not 
have  supposed,  in  our  juvenile  days,  would 
have  taken  place.  It  is  easy  for  Him  who 
made  the  world,  in  an  instant  to  unframe  it,  | 


and  reduce  it  to  confusion,  and  to  make  it 
appear  that  the  Most  High  ruleth  in  the 
kingdoms  of  men.  We  are  the  subjects  of  a 
kingdom  that  cannot  be  shaken,  and  if  we 
have  the  grace  answerable  to  our  vocation,  it 
is  impossible  that  our  minds  should  be  divert- 
ed from  it  by  important  trifles.  I  cannot  con- 
clude these  lines  with  any  news.  We  are  in 
a  quiet  and  pleasant  situation.  Here  are  a 
few  friends  of  your  persuasion,  something 
under  twenty,  among  whom  is  a  Mr.  Ro- 
berts, formerly  a  merchant  in  the  north  of 
America.  He  is  a  person  of  great  humanity 
and  good  understanding.  He  is  a  great  bo- 
tanist, and  does  good  by  the  application  of  his 
study  to  physical  cases.  We  are  on  good 
neighbourhood  as  you  may  suppose,  and  only 
a  want  of  leisure  prevents  frequent  society. 
Should  any  Providence  call  you  into  this 
neighbourhood,  no  one  will  be  more  happy  to 
see  you,  than  my  dear  sir,  yours,  affectionate- 
ly, &c. 

"  Painswick,  March  6,  1793." 

His  candour  extended  to  matters  of  prac- 
tice as  well  as  of  opinion :  witness  the  follow- 
ing remark  in  a  letter :  "  Though  Mr.  

should  continue  angry  with  me,  I  cannot 
treat  him  as  an  enemy.  We  must  bear  our 
sufferings  from  the  church  as  well  as  from 
the  world,  and  stand  the  shock  to  which  we 
are  liable  from  the  misunderstanding,  and  the 
resentment  even  of  those  we  love.  I  bless 
God,  the  misapprehensions  of  my  friends  do 
not  alienate  my  affections  from  them;  and 
though  I  feel  wounded,  I  can  distinguish  be- 
tween the  thrust  of  an  assassin's  poniard,  and 
the  blow  of  an  offended  brother  who  would 
not  strike  if  he  did  not  mistake." 

His  improvement  of  lime  was  exemplary. 
Though  always  rather  infirm  and  often  poorly, 
how  little  did  he  indulge  himself  Sloth  was 
out  of  the  question ;  but  how  much  did  he 
abridge  what  many  would  have  deemed  ne- 
cessary for  refreshment.  He  was  a  very 
early  riser.  How  many  exercises  have  I 
performed  with  him  before  six  in  the  morn- 
ing, sitting  by  his  side  at  the  table,  or  stand- 
ing between  his  knees  with  his  arm — I  think 
I  feel  it  now — upon  my  neck.  When  abroad, 
many  an  hour  would  he  secure  in  his  cham- 
ber retirement,  before  the  families  rose,  for 
reading  and  writing.  He  was  always  anx- 
ious to  return.  His  visits  at  home  were 
short,  but  instructive.  He  never  left  a  com- 
pany without  dropping  something  by  which 
they  might  be  the  better  for  him.  He  thus 
exhorts  one  of  his  young  friends, — "  May  you 
have  wisdom  to  keep  conversation  in  the  vi- 
siting circle,  from  degenerating  in  the  least 
degree.  Connect  piety  with  cheerfulness : 
let  not  the  former  be  driven  out  by  the  latter. 
Keep  not  all  your  religion  for  the  pulpit: 
have  it  at  heart  and  at  hand  ;  at  dinner  and  at 
tea;  and  let  every  occurrence  furnish  you 


si 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


with  a  subject  for  spiritual  improvement." 
This  was  his  own  practice.  And  though  he 
did  not  speak  much,  and  his  extreme  modesty 
kept  him  from  taking  the  lead  in  conversa- 
tion, he  expressed  himself  with  peculiar  pro- 
priety, and  dropped  sentences  which  were 
not  easily  forgotten. 

Though  the  Lord's  way  is  hid  from  us,  our 
way  is  not  hid  from  him. 

We  have  an  unchanging  world  before  us, 
and  an  unchangeable  (rod  with  us. 

I  would  not  only  be  found  in  the  Lord's 
work,  but  1  would  also  do  it  in  his  way. 

Let  us  rest  in  Jesus  now,  and  we  shall  rest 
with  him  soon. 

I  want  to  be  very  different  to  what  I  am, 
much  as  I  differ  from  what  I  was. 

The  more  dangerous  the  way,  the  more 
cautious  the  traveller. 

It  is  a  great  matter  to  be  able  to  distin- 
guish between  waiting  and  loitering. 

lie  is  all  to  us,  and  docs  all  for  us,  that  he 
may  have  the  glory  of  all  from  us. 

Every  place  is  alike  to  him,  who  goes  no 
where  without  God. 

Much  may  be  done,  as  in  the  building  of 
Solomon's  temple,  without  the  noise  of  axes 
and  of  hammers. 

Seclusion  from  the  world  prepares  us  for 
communion  with  God;  and  communion  with 
God  prepares  us  for  intercourse  with  the 
world. 

I  endeavour  to  take  things  as  I  find 
them.  I  fight  with  my  own  heart,  from 
which  I  am  most  incommoded ;  and  when  I 
can  get  the  victory  there,  I  am  an  universal 
conqueror. 

Though  many  of  these  kinds  of  aphorisms 
might  have  been  secured  from  his  lips,  they 
dropped  still  more  frequently  from  his  pen : 
for  the  moments  devoted  to  correspondence 
were  by  him  deemed  sacred  and  accounta- 
ble ;  he  said  it  was  a  fixed  rule  with  him, 
"  Never  to  write  a  letter  without  aliquid 
Chrisli  in  it;"  and,  neither  in  his  conversa- 
tion, nor  his  letters,  were  these  reflections  de- 
livered quaintly,  nor  from  a  common  place 
vocabulary,  like  those  of  some  formal  talkers 
and  writers,  who  have  a  number  of  sentences 
prepared  for  the  occasion,  artificially  intro- 
duced, and  used  till  they  are  worn  out.  His 
remarks  grew  out  of  present  circumstances, 
they  were  the  spontaneous  expressions  of  the 
moment,  the  natural  effusions  of  a  thoughtful 
mind,  and  a  feeling  heart,  and  were  never  re- 
peated again.  He  had  an  inexhaustible  af- 
fluence of  sentiment  and  phrases.  He  was 
perpetually  lamenting  the  waste  of  time  by 
interruptions,  and  the  loss  of  it  by  inability  to 
improve  it  as  he  would.  Referring  to  an  en- 
gagement with  a  person  of  quality,  he  ob- 
serves in  one  of  his  letters — "It  gave  me 
some  little  specimen  of  the  attendance  great 
people  require,  when  they  condescend  to  be 
friendly  to  a  poor  preacher;  and  I  wish  to 


know  little  of  them,  but  with  a  design  to  do 
some  little  good  by  them.  They  make  one 
spend  more  time  to  eat  a  dinner  than  seven 
of  them  are  worth."  In  another  he  says — 
"  Oh  !  that  1  had  been  more  diligent  in  using 
the  opportunities  afforded  me — the  morning's 
work  cannot  be  performed  in  the  evening  of 
the  day.  My  gracious  Master  I  hope  will 
accept  such  feeble  services  as  I  am  able  to 
execute." 

If  ever  a  person  was  "  Lowly  in  heart,"  he 
was  the  man:  he  was  clothed  with  humility. 
In  honour  he  preferred  others  to  himself.  He 
rejoiced  to  hear  of  their  success,  and  was  in- 
dustrious to  add  to  their  fame.  "He  must 
increase,  but  I  must  decrease,"  was  a  senti- 
ment that  found  in  his  mind  its  native  soil. 
He  condescended  to  men  of  low  estate.  A 
female  friend  of  his  lately  put  into  my  hand  a 
letter,  which  he  had  written  to  her  servant, 
whose  mind  was  distressed :  it  was  given  me 
as  a  curiosity,  but  the  thing  was  by  no  means 
remarkable  in  Mr.  Winter.  I  have  in  my 
possession,  by  the  death  of  the  owner,  per- 
haps fifty  letters  addressed  to  a  day  labourer, 
at  Christian-malford ;  and,  not  to  observe  that 
something  was  conveyed  in  each  of  them  for 
the  poor  man's  relief,  the  letters  are  written 
with  the  same  neatness  and  correctness,  and 
are  as  large  and  sentimental,  as  any  of  those 
he  addressed  to  persons  of  rank. 

His  humility  was  genuine,  and  not  as- 
sumed. It  was  not  the  humility  that  is 
founded  in  vanity,  and  employs  a  number  of 
self-annihilating  expressions  as  anglers  to  fish 
for  praise:  a  humility  that  retreats — to  be  fol- 
lowed; that  refuses — to  be  courted;  that  dis- 
owns excellences — for  the  satisfaction  of  in- 
ducing others  to  affirm  that  we  possess  them, 
and  believe  that  we  are  insensible  of  them. 
Reality  needs  no  pretensions :  but  those  who 
have  neither  the  trouble  nor  expense  of  main- 
taining the  reality,  can  afford  to  be  very 
lavish  in  professions.  I  never  once  heard 
Mr.  Winter  in  his  public  services  deal  in  the 
language  of  many,  who,  while  they  call  them- 
selves "  Dust  and  ashes,"  "  Less  than  the 
least,"  "  Unworthy  to  open  their  lips,"  show 
in  their  general  carriage,  that  they  have  no 
very  mean  opinion  of  themselves;  and  whose 
frown  would  probably  threaten  the  daring  in- 
dividual that  would  address  them  in  the  lan- 
guage of  their  own  "  voluntary  humility."  It 
is  doubtless  possible  for  persons  to  be  led  into 
the  occasional  vise  of  such  expressions  from 
ignorance,  simplicity,  and  a  sense  of  what 
they  really  feel ;  but  as  they  are  commonly 
employed  by  that  class  of  the  ambitious  who 
are  straightened  for  expedients,  and  as  they 
are  generally  considered  the  sneaking  wishes 
of  pride,  it  would  be  better  to  use  them  very 
sparingly,  to  keep  our  good  from  being  evil 
spoken  of,  and  to  establish  our  claims  to  this 
christian  excellency  by  something  less  cheap 
and  suspicious — the  whole  course  of  our  lives. 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


85 


T  remember  soon  after  I  was  with  him,  I 
was  called  upon  rather  suddenly  to  preach  at 
an  association  of  ministers.  My  dear  and  ho- 
noured tutor  saw  my  agitation  as  I  was  as- 
cending the  pulpit ;  and  whispered  to  me  on 
the  stairs  by  which  he  was  standing,  "  Make 
no  apology."  What  he  suspected,  I  had  de- 
termined upon ;  but  confiding  in  his  judg- 
ment, I  gave  up  my  design.  He  afterward 
explained  the  reason  of  his  prohibition ;  and 
added,  that  "A  young  preacher's  manner  out 
of  the  pulpit,  and  in  the  pulpit,  will  he  his 
best  apology." 

If  we  consider  his  humility  more  immedi- 
ately in  reference  to  God,  in  whose  sight  the 
very  heavens  are  not  clean,  and  who  charg- 
eth  the  angels  with  folly — What  wonder 
from  such  a  man  we  meet  with  language  like 
this.  "  I  wish  always  to  see  myself  what  T 
am,  and  then  no  varnish  can  so  alter  me,  as 
to  make  me  excel  in  my  own  eyes." 

"Lord,  what  am  IT  A  sight  of  my  own 
wickedness  frequently  bows  me  down,  and  I 
would  if  I  could,  lie  ten  thousand  fathoms 
lower,  so  that  I  might  but  be  within  the  reach 
of  mercy. — It  is  never  better  with  me  than 
when  I  am  necessitated  to  lie  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus,  begging  the  crumbs  of  that  bread, 
which,  because  I  am  not  worthy  to  receive 
as  a  son,  I  would  thankfully  accept  as  a 
servant. 

"  The  constraining  love  of  Christ  is  the 
spur  to  my  work,  and  the  reward  of  my  la- 
bour. And  when  the  dear  Jesus,  who  bought 
me  with  his  blood,  shall  crown  me  with  his 
glory,  the  whole  hierarchy  of  heaven  shall 
hear  me  shout  grace,  ffrace  !" 

To  Mr.  L — e.  "  We  should  do  what  we 
can,  if  we  cannot  do  what  we  would ;  and 
when  we  have  exerted  ourselves  to  the  utter- 
most, it  becomes  us  to  lie  prostrate  at  the 
Redeemer's  feet,  acknowledging  that  we  are 
unprofitable  servants.  I  feel  this  to  be  the 
case.  Whatever  formality  there  may  be  in 
my  duties,  and  much  there  is  indeed,  there 
is  none  in  my  confession.  I  think  as  I  speak, 
before  God  and  man.  I  had  almost  said  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  be  proud.  If  at  any 
time  Satan  and  my  own  heart  take  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  more  than  ordinary  lively  frame, 
and  by  the  assistance  of  a  more  than  usual 
share  of  spirits,  I  am  carried  through  a  ser- 
vice, the  comparison  of  that  with  the  many 
dull  and  plodding  exercises,  which  connect 
with  it,  forbid  me  to  be  vain.  It  is  probable 
the  motives  of  my  humiliation  may  be  more 
from  pride,  than  from  a  proper  concern  for 
the  glory  of  God,  my  divine  master;  if  this 
be  the  case,  I  am  so  much  the  greater  sinner 
before  him.  Of  this  I  would  stand  open  to 
conviction.  Our  great  mercy  is  that  what- 
ever may  be  our  sin,  there  is  an  infinity  of 
pardon  for  it.  But  it  should  be  our  care  not 
to  make  work  for  repentance,  by  indulging 
sin,  or  to  sin  that  grace  may  abound,  and 

8 


thus  abuse  the  information  we  have  of  the 
plenitude  of  salvation,  and  the  efficacy  there 
is  in  the  blood  of  Jesus,  to  cleanse  us  from 
all  sin." 

To  Mr.  S— r,  of  B  s.  "  I  do  not  won- 
der you  derived  advantage  from  the  ordina- 
tion of  Mr.  Hickman.  I  always  attend  upon 
such  an  occasion,  interested  in  all  the  advice 
given  to  the  ordained,  and  frequently  discover 
a  remissness  and  deficiency  that  humbles  me 
before  God.  Not  having  life  to  live  over 
again,  my  convictions  of  what  I  have  in  many 
instances  detected  to  have  been  wrong,  hum- 
ble me.  I  despair  of  fetching  up  time  past. 
The  decay  of  nature,  which  gradually  ad- 
vances, will  not  admit  of  my  using  time  pre- 
sent as  I  ought.  I  must  therefore  die  repent- 
ing, and  throw  myself  upon  the  mercy  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus.  He  knows  that  I  have 
always  designed  better  than  I  have  perform- 
ed ;  and  I  must  rely  upon  his  compassion  to 
pity  the  weakness  that  he  knows  has  ever 
attended  my  frame,  and  pardon  the  sin  which 
he  equally  knows  has  not  been  intentional, 
but  cleaving  to  my  most  holy  performances 
has  polluted  them.  And  the  failure  of  put- 
ting into  practice  the  resolutions  I  have 
formed,  makes  me  cautious  in  renewing 
them." 

In  another  letter.  "  Oh  !  blessed  Jesus ! 
may  we  all  learn  of  him.  But  Oh  !  my  dear 
madam,  with  what  difficulty  have  I  brought 
my  heart  to  yield  to  one  of  his  lessons  since 
I  saw  you.  I  do  not  want,  blessed  be  God,  to 
be  conformed  to  this  world  ;  but  while  I  am 
indifferent  to  this  world,  I  am  not  enough 
conformed  to  the  image  of  the  first-born 
among  many  brethren." 

I  would  only  add,  that  when  a  few  years 
ago,  I  wrote  a  few  verses  in  my  native  vil- 
lage, in  which  I  of  course  was  led  to  notice 
him  as  the  instrument  of  my  emerging  from 
the  deepest  obscurity,  upon  my  transmitting 
them  to  him :  he  wrote — "  It  is  impossible  I 
can  keep  the  little  poem  to  myself;  and  yet 
I  truly  blush  at  being  the  subject  of  so  much 
honour  as  it  intends  me.  I  pray  God  that  in 
the  judgment-day,  I  may  be  found  the  con- 
sistent character  such  as  I  ought  to  be.  From 
the  many  imperfections  known  to  myself,  I 
feel  shame,  while  from  my  fellow-creatures 
I  meet  with  applause,  to  which  my  dearest 
Jay  contributes  much.  I  sometimes  tremble  on 
this  account.  I  know  that  I  am  not  disposed 
to  make  an  improper  use  of  it,  and  am  sure 
that  it  does  not  in  the  least  divert  me  from 
the  Saviour,  whose  name  is  all  my  trust.  I 
need  his  mercy,  and  am  in  his  service  an  un- 
profitable servant.  If,  like  '  Charles,  in  Cow- 
per,'  I  have  been  desirous  to  please,  and  have 
made  any  effort  to  serve  acceptably,  it  is  be- 
cause I  love  my  master,  and  wherein  I  can 
best  serve  him,  I  would  be  most  willing." 
Such  a  disposition  preserved  him  from  com- 
plaint under  inconveniences  and  trials :  and 


86  MEMOIRS  OF 

rendered  him  gratefully  alive  to  the  kindness 
of  God  and  man.  "  I  feel,"  says  he,  "  as  in- 
different to  every  thing  above  the  supply  of 
food  and  raiment  administered  in  a  decent 
manner,  as  a  dead  man  does  to  the  coffin  in 
which  his  remains  are  confined." 

Again.  "  We  are  in  silent  submission, 
called  in  some  respects  to  take  up  our  cross. 
My  old  woman,  Betty  King,*  has  taken  pos- 
session of  my  study.  It  is  now  a  complete  in- 
firmary. To  avoid  enormous  expense  abroad, 
I  have  hereby  entailed  very  considerable 
trouble  upon  my  good  wife  at  home ;  and  as 
to  myself,  I  am  driven  hither  and  thither  for 
my  retirement.  But  we  are  agreed  in  our 
conclusion,  'It  is  well,'  and  therefore  we 
must  not  murmur  ;  and  indeed,  by  consider- 
ing our  appointment  and  our  mercies,  we  are 
prevented.  Our  state  is  not  helplessness ; 
neither  are  we  in  want  of  the  necessaries  of 
life,  as  are  many,  very  many  about  us ;  and 
when  faith  performs  her  office,  and  helps  us 
to  realize  things  to  come,  it  produces  a  placid 
effect." 

In  another  letter.  "  The  latter  part  of  my 
journey  has  been  productive  of  a  very  serious 
cold,  of  which  giddiness,  deafness,  an  obsti- 
nate cough,  and  a  continual  fever,  are  pro- 
perties. Had  I  only  to  nurse  it,  I  should  not 
be  so  sensible  of  its  effects,  as  I  am  under 
ministerial  duties,  which  require  me  to  go 
abroad,  and  keep  me  fully  employed  at  home. 
But  who  is  without  inconveniences?  And 
who  am  I  that  I  should  be  excused  1  Come 
forth  to  view  my  mercies,  and  excite  my  gra- 
titude. They  are  present — my  eyes  behold 
them — my  heart  thinks  upon  them — and  I  am 
ashamed  that  their  weight  and  number  do  not 
make  greater  impression  upon  me." 

While  humble  in  himself,  he  had  a  holy 
confidence  in  God  that  never  forsook  him. 
His  faith  was  often  tried ;  especially  in  the 
earlier  periods  of  his  ministry.  But  though 
he  was  sometimes  left  almost  destitute,  and 
there  seemed'no  probability  of  relief,  he  was 
always  enabled  to  believe  in  the  promise, 
"Verily  thou  shalt  be  fed."  And  he  had 
many  instances  of  God's  seasonable  goodness 
to  encourage  him  in  his  future  dependence 
upon  him:  and  by  means  of  these  he  strength- 
ened the  minds  of  others. 

Loose  among  his  manuscripts,  I  very  acci- 
dentally discerned  a  narrow  slip  of  paper  thus 
written. — "A.  Dyer  returns  Mr.  Winter  her 
thanks  for  the  books:  as  he  may  choose  to 
increase  his  library,  she  begs  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  contributing  a  trifle  towards  it." 
What  the  sum  was,  is  not  mentioned,  but  on 
the  corner  of  the  paper  he  had  written — "  I 
received  this  when  I  was  exceedingly  strait- 
ened, and  I  leave  it  with  my  papers,  as  one 
testimony  among  many,  of  the  providential 
regard  the  Lord  hath  vouchsafed  me.  Reader, 

*  One  of  his  eleemosynary  dependents. 


C.  WINTER. 

make  him  your  confidence,  and  he  will  make 
you  his  care.    July,  1776." 

In  1789,  his  benefactor,  the  never  to  be  for- 
gotten Mr.  Thornton,  wrote  to  him. 

"Dear  and  reverend  sir, — I  inclose  you 
J620,  as  I  suppose  your  purse  may  be  low. — 
I  commend  you  to  the  grace  and  love  of 
Jesus.  May  he  long  shine  upon  you  and 
bless  you. — My  dear  friend,  yours  affection- 
ately, J.  THORNTON." 

On  the  corner  of  this,  opposite  the  name 
of  him  who,  unsolicited,  had  often  supplied 
him,  he  wrote, — I  keep  this  letter  to  record 
the  mercy  of  the  Lord.  It  was  a  time  when 
I  received  it  wherein  I  was  destitute,  and 
knew  not  where  to  look  for  supply;  I  was 
kept  from  fear  and  anxiety,  and  found  the 
great  advantage  of  faith.  Bless  the  Lord, 
Oh  my  soul ! 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  many  other 
acknowledgments  of  a  similar  kind  are  to  be 
found  in  the  multitude  of  his  papers.  It  has 
been  observed  by  Flavel,  that  they  who  no- 
tice providences  will  never  want  providences 
to  notice.  And  a  greater  than  he,  had  said 
long  before  from  experience,  as  well  as  con- 
viction, "Whoso  is  wise,  and  will  observe 
these  things,  even  they  shall  understand  the 
lovingkindness  of  the  Lord." 

"  As  to  temporal  circumstances,"  says  he, 
"  I  can  leave  them  with  Him  who  long  since 
promised,  and  has  been  faithful  to  his  word. 
He  will  supply  all  our  need.  I  live  upon  the 
bounty  of  Providence,  with  as  much  certainty 
and  pleasure  as  those  can  who  command  their 
thousands." 

I  feel  that  I  tread  on  delicate  ground,  when 
I  remark,  that  my  dear  and  honoured  friend 
frequently  indulged  a  confidence  arising  from 
impression.  There  never  was  a  man  more 
free  from  enthusiasm,  if  we  use  that  term  as 
significant  of  an  unwarrantable  dependence 
upon  God,  or  an  expectation  of  the  end  with- 
out the  use  of  the  means.  He  pressed  duty 
in  all  its  relations ;  he  was  sober-minded,  cau- 
tious, and  prudent;  yet  it  is  certain  that,  in 
some  of  the  most  eventful  circumstances  of 
his  life,  his  decision  resulted  very  much  at 
the  time  from  a  forcible  impulse  of  mind  which 
he  could  not  feel  himself  at  liberty  to  resist ; 
and  which  indeed  was  fully  satisfactory  to 
himself.  It  is  equally  certain,  that  in  taking 
these  steps,  he  had  no  reason  to  repent :  but 
was  abundantly  convinced  by  the  consequen- 
ces, that  they  were  of  God.  We  must  not 
limit  the  holy  one  of  Israel,  nor  yet  be  wise 
above  what  is  written.  "  A  good  man's  steps 
are  ordered  by  the  Lord ;  and  he  has  said,  in 
all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall 
direct  thy  paths."  The  promise  is  connected 
with  the  duty,  and  as  the  one  is  performed, 
the  other  is  accomplished.  Common  Chris- 
tians can  hardly  understand  the  peculiar  ad- 
vantages that  arise  from  exalted  spirituality 


/ 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


87 


of  mind,  and  the  most  intimate  degrees  of- 
devotedness  to,  and  communion  with  God. 

He  had  an  holy  and  unshaken  confidence 
as  to  his  spiritual  and  eternal  concerns.  He 
knew  whom  he  had  believed,  and  was  persua- 
ded that  he  was  able  to  keep  that  which  he 
had  committed  to  him  against  that  day.  This, 
under  every  event  that  naturally  tends  to 
alarm  and  distress,  released  him  from  anxi- 
ety, and  kept  his  mind  in  perfect  peace.  He 
was  not  afraid  of  evil  tidings,  his  heart  was 
fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord.    A  gentleman, 
Mr.  Dodd,  has  just  written  to  me  to  say,  that 
he  came  over  in  the  same  vessel  with  him 
from  America.    He  gives  the  same  account 
of  the  dreadful  storm  as  Mr.  Winter  has  done 
in  his  Narrative :  but  he  adds — "  When  all 
hope  of  being  saved  was  taken  away  during 
this  extremity — our  impious  captain  fell  on 
his  knees,  and  intreated  our  neglected  and 
injured  friend  to  pray  for  him  and  the  ship's 
company.    No  one  can  imagine  with  what 
dignity,  composure,  and  kindness,  this  great 
and  good  man  behaved  himself,  and  what  at- 
tention was  paid  to  every  word  that  dropped 
from  his  lips,  as  we  were  kneeling  round 
him."    He  was  always  indeed  raised  above 
the  fear  of  death,  from  which  some  are  sub- 
ject to  bondage  all  through  life.    To  him 
death  was  no  more  than  a  sleep,  not  only  in 
reality  but  apprehension.    The  last  time  I 
was  walking  with  him,  he  was  speaking  of 
his  own  dissolution.    As  I  wished  to  know 
the  state  of  his  mind,  and  he  had  never  been 
accustomed  to  talk  of  his  assurance,  I  asked 
him  how  death  appeared.    He  answered, 
"  Very  inviting."    Aware  of  his  having  been 
generally  enervated  to  a  great  degree,  and 
supposing  it  possible  that,  like  some  good 
men,  he  might  have  felt  a  constitutional  dread 
of  death,  I  added,  "Has  it  been  always  so!" 
He  said,  "  Always.    Blessed  be  God,  ever 
since  I  knew  him,  I  have  been  enabled  to  live 
in  a  waiting  posture  ;  and  though  I  am  not 
improperly  weary  of  the  world,  having  found 
much  friendship  and  mercy  in  it,  yet  death  is 
inviting." 

One  of  his  last  students  writes  me,  "  That 
he  often  spoke  with  obvious  pleasure  of  the 
approach  of  death.  If  a  little  pain  of  body 
seized  him,  he  would  frequently  say  with  a 
smile,  "  Who  can  tell,  but  this  may  serve  to 
introduce  me  to  my  Father's  house  I" 

His  early  letters,  of  which  I  have  looked 
over  a  great  number,  abound  with  joy  and 
rapture ;  in  those  of  later  years  there  is  less 
ecstasy,  but  much  of  that  peace  which  passeth 
all  understanding.  Let  a  few  extracts  suffice 
to  show  the  blessedness  he  enjoyed  from  the 
strength  of  his  faith— it  would  be  delightful 
to  transcribe  more  of  them. 

"  What  wonderful  events  have  occurred 
since  we  exchanged  a  letter  1 — But  the  Lord 
reigns,  and  he  can  preserve  us.  The  over- 
flowing scourge  cannot  pass  through  the  land, 


but  by  his  permission.  What  a  mercy,  to  be 
the  subjects  of  a  state  that  war  cannot  effect, 
and  to  be  able  to  look  forward  to  a  land  where 
our  eyes  shall  not  see  evil  any  more.  This, 
my  dear  sir,  is  our  discriminating  mercy,  and 
it  does  us  good  to  be  thinking  of  it.  Happy 
would  it  be  for  all  whom  we  love,  if  they 
would  set  their  hearts  upon  that  state,  and  in 
their  minds  connect  the  present  and  the  last 
day  together ;  and  when  gloomy  thoughts  are 
excited  by  political  events,  would  banish  the 
gloom  by  the  consideration  that  the  world  to 
come,  and  into  which  we  shall  soon  be  trans- 
ferred, knows  nothing  of  the  calamities  to 
which  this  is  ever  subject.  He  who  made  all 
things  has  the  reins  of  government  in  his 
hands,  and  all  men  at  his  control.  And  we 
are  sure  that  he  will  overrule  all  the  convul- 
sions which  distract  the  present  times,  and 
threaten  the  disturbance  of  the  future.  The 
storms  will  spend  themselves,  and  the  calm 
will  ensue  which  will  no  more  be  interrupt- 
ed, when  all  nations  will  be  blessed.  May 
we  exercise  faith  upon  whatever  God  has 
promised,  and  more  immediately  upon  those 
promises  which  respect  ourselves,  our  present 
concerns,  and  our  eternal  glory.  We  shall 
then  rejoice  while  others  mourn,  and  our  joy 
no  man  taketh  from  us." 

— "I  catch  the  retirement  of  the  morning 
to  drop  a  few  lines;  I  wish  they  may  find  you 
well  in  God.  Then  you  will  be  prepared  for 
sickness,  should  it  please  him  to  inflict  it 
upon  you.  He  knows  how  to  deal  with  us. 
Nothing  shall  occur  that  is  really  evil  in  its 
consequences,  if  we  love  him  and  put  our 
trust  in  him.  If  he  designs  our  good  we  may 
submissively  let  him  do  his  pleasure  with  us ; 
it  will  terminate  in  everlasting  happiness,  and 
that  is  sufficient.  In  all  the  revolutions  of 
your  constitution,  think  of  the  state  that  un- 
dergoes no  change,  and  where  your  youth 
will  be  renewed  like  the  eagles.  In  sickness 
and  in  health  it  becomes  us  to  meditate  upon 
this ;  and  it  will  be  natural  for  us  so  to  do,  if 
we  live  under  the  influence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  are  taught  so  to  number  our  days 
as  that  we  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom. 
We  live  in  a  dying  world,  and  must  expect 
to  die.  He  lives  most  properly  who  thinks 
more  of  death  than  of  life,  and  thus  dies  daily, 
and  lives  with  an  ungrasping  hand.  I  think 
it  is  not  vanity  nor  pride  in  me  to  say,  so  I 
do.  I  may  not,  I  shall  not  have  done  all  I 
should  wish  when  I  come  to  die,  but  I  do  not 
therefore  neglect  to  look  forward,  rather  to  a 
dying  day  than  to  a  long  life.  What  is  it 
that  can  make  death  friendly  to  us,  but  an  in- 
terest in  the  death  of  the  blessed  Jesus!  He 
destroyed  death,  and  him  that  had  the  power 
of  death,  in  favour  of  all  who  make  him  their 
friend." 

"  I  am  much  better  than  I  was,  but  am  yet 
under,  I  was  going  to  say,  complaint — but 
why  should  a  living  man  complain,  especially 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


the  man  whose  ten  thousand  mercies  stand 
opposed  to  a  few,  very  few  inconveniences  ? 
Through  mercy,  I  know  what  it  is  to  be  fed 
with  the  hidden  manna,  and  at  this  time  I 
enjoy  access  with  confidence  into  the  holiest 
of  all." 

— "  It  is  well  we  live  as  yet  secure  from 
invasion.  I  am  inclined  to  think  before  war 
ceaseth  I  shall  be  in  the  realms  of  eternal 
peace :  yet,  as  far  as  my  reflections  extend, 
I  feel  for  posterity.  But  when  I  reflect  that 
the  Lord  reigneth,  I  may  dismiss  my  fears. 
He  who  governed  the  world  long  before  I 
had  my  existence,  will  continue  his  reign 
long  after  I  am  out  of  the  memory  of  every 
one.  It  is  enough  if  I  reign  with  him,  or  am 
one  in  the  retinue  in  which  he  will  be  glori- 
fied." 

— "  This  reminds  us  that  we  must  shortly 
put  off  our  tabernacle,  and  if  we  have  put 
on  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  sooner  the  better.  I 
trust  this  is  now  become  our  case.  The 
evidence  of  it  keeps  me  unmoved  by  storms, 
and  unshaken  by  tempests,  though  the  awful 
falls  of  my  neighbours  jar  me  ;  and  I  cannot 
hear  of  them  without  being  deeply  affected. 
O  how  dreadful  is  it,  to  know  the  evil  of  sin 
by  experience,  after  we  have  made  a  most 
glaring  profession,  that  we  know  the  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ!  Merciful  Saviour ! 
never  suffer  me  to  fall  into  that  horrible  pit. 
If  I  must  look  into  it,  hold  me  up  in  thy  ever- 
lasting never-failing  arms,  and  I  shall  be  safe. 
The  promise  is  sure  ;  '  I  will  uphold  thee  with 
the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness.'  But  in 
order  to  its  accomplishment,  the  precept  must 
be  attended  to,  watch  thou  in  all  things.  O 
that  I  may  never  be  unwatchful,  till  the  ene- 
mies which  assault  me  now  shall  assault  me  no 
more  for  ever.  Then  will  be  the  time  to  put 
off  the  harness;  and  the  pain  of  vigilance 
will  be  exchanged  for  the  joy  of  rest." 

— "  There  is  a  deal  in  this  state  of  mor- 
tality to  make  us  desire  the  change,  but  this 
desire  should  be  regulated  by  a  submission  to 
the  divine  will.  Sinful  selfishness  often 
pushes  us  toward  heaven,  rather  than  a  grow- 
ing heavenly  frame ;  and  if  we  desire  it 
rather  as  a  convenience,  than  for  the  sake  of 
conformity  to  our  blessed  Saviour,  the  desire 
is  itself  sinful.  We  are  not  better  than  our 
fathers  who  passed  through  the  same  evil 
world,  and  found  it  the  same  as  we  do.  Our 
duty  is  in  patience  to  possess  our  soul,  and 
to  endeavour  to  bear  with  a  Christ-like  tem- 
per whatever  comes  upon  us,  till  we  are  ri- 
pened and  prepared  for  that  glorious  estate 
where  our  happiness  will  spring  from  our 
holiness,  and  we  shall  be  made  perfect  in 
love." 

— "  At  present,  blessed  be  God,  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  that  charms  me  but 
what  I  shall  enjoy  to  infinite  perfection  in 
the  world  of  spirits." 

— "  Why  should  we  fear !    The  grave  is 


not  to  be  a  prison  house  but  a  bed-chamher. 
We  should  not  be  thrown  into  it  as  criminals, 
but  kindly  conducted  to  it  as  friends — there 
our  toil  will  be  at  an  end,  our  conflicts  will 
cease  for  ever;  endless  joy  will  take  place 
of  transient  sorrow,  and  an  eternal  weight 
of  glory  be  the  substitute  for  the  afflictions 
of  a  moment." 

"  Here  I  am  like  a  ship  at  anchor  in  a 
wind-bound  condition,  longing  to  sail  to  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest.  O  what  a  day  when 
I  shall  behold  his  face  !  I  now  find  him  the 
shadow  of  a  great  rock  for  refuge,  and  as 
rivers  of  water  for  refreshment.  I  have 
peace  and  quietness  now  ;  and  assurance  for 
ever  in  that  which  he  calls  me  to  possess." — 

— So  spoke  Aspasio,  firm  possest 

Of  faith's  supporting  rod  ; 
Then  breathed  his  soul  into  its  rest, 

The  bosom  of  his  God. 

He  was  a  man  among  the  few, 

Sincere  on  virtue's  side ; 
And  all  his  strength  from  Scripture  drew, 

To  hourly  use  apply'd. 

That  rule  he  priz'd,  by  that  he  fear'd, 

He  hated,  hop'd  and  lov'd  : 
Nor  ever  frovvn'd,  nor  sad  appear'd, 

But  when  his  heart  had  rov'd. 

For  he  was  frail  as  thou  or  I, 

And  evil  felt  within : 
But  when  he  felt  it  heav'd  a  sigh, 

And  loath'd  the  thought  of  sin. 

Such  liv'd  Aspasio ;  and  at  last, 

Call'd  up  from  earth  to  heaven  ; 
The  gulf  of  death  triumphant  pass'd 

By  gales  of  blessings  driven. 

His  Joys  be  mine,  each  reader  cries, 

When  my  last  hour  arrives ; 
They  shall  be  yours,  my  verse  replies, 

Such  only  be  your  lives. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

REMARKS. 

Through  all  the  preceding  pages,  reflec- 
tions have  mingled  with  facts,  and  the  peru- 
sal of  the  whole  narrative,  will,  it  is  hoped, 
make  some  useful  impressions.  Yet  know- 
ing that  people  are  generally  more  disposed 
to  indulge  their  curiosity,  than  to  aid  their 
improvement,  and  that  there  is  nothing,  to 
which  they  are  so  indifferent  as  the  applica- 
tion of  what  they  either  hear  or  read  to 
themselves ;  it  may  not  be  improper  to  bring 
together  in  a  distinct  form,  some  additional 
remarks  of  practicable  utility. 

First.  What  improbable  and  marvellous 
changes  often  take  place  in  the  conditions 
of  mankind  !  Many  have  reached  an  emi- 
nence, towards  which,  at  one  period  of  their 
lives  they  could  not  have  aspired.  Had  the 
important  vicissitudes  through  which  they 
have  passed,  been  previously  foretold,  they 
would  have  replied  with  the  unbelieving  no- 
bleman ;  "  If  the  Lord  should  make  windows 
in  heaven  might  such  things  be."  What 
would  have  been  the  surprise  of  David,  if  a 
prophet  had  approached  him  when  he  was  in 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


89 


a  field,  sitting  on  a  hillock,  with  the  sheep 
at  his  feet,  and  his  harp  in  his  hand,  and  had 
opened  to  him  the  future  scenes  of  his  great- 
ness !  But  by  a  train  of  events,  led  on  by 
the  Providence  of  God,  he  was  called  to  ex- 
change the  shepherd's  crook  for  the  royal 
sceptre,  and  the  cottage  for  the  palace.  In 
revolutions  less  splendid  and  striking,  but  not 
less  strange  and  unlikely,  ho  has  led  others 
by  a  way  that  they  knew  not.  He  has  made 
darkness  light  before  them,  and  crooked 
things  strait.  Difficulties  which  seemed  in- 
superable have  been  overcome ;  and  without 
a  design  formed  by  their  friends,  or  a  hope 
entertained  by  themselves,  they  have  passed 
from  obscurity  to  honour ;  from  limitation  to 
enlargement;  from  dependence,  to  be  the 
support  of  others;  from  inability,  to  be  the 
instruments  of  good  to  thousands.  "He 
raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lifteth 
the  needy  out  of  the  dunghill;  that  he  may 
set  him  witli  princes,  even  with  the  princes 
of  his  people."  "  It  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and 
it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

It  should  teach  us  not  to  disregard  those 
in  humble  -life,  especially  poor  children. 
"  Despise  not,"  said  our  Lord,  "  one  of  these 
little  ones."    And  three  reasons  he  assigns 

for  it :  angels  are  their  attendants  "  Their 

angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Fa- 
ther which  is  in  heaven ;"  Jesus  is  their  Sa- 
viour— "  The  Son  of  man  is  come  to  seek  and 
to  save  that  which  is  lost."  God  is  their 
friend — "It  is  not  the  will  of  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven,  that  one  of  these  little 
ones  should  perish."  Is  it  necessary  to  add, 
you  know  not  what  they  may  hereafter  be- 
come ;  what  in  the  destinations  of  heaven 
they  already  are.  See  that  floating  ark  of 
bulrushes ;  it  contains  a  weeping  babe, 
abandoned  to  the  perils  of  the  Nile,  in  a  state 
equivalent  to  the  want  of  father  or  mother — 
but  it  carries  the  scourge  of  Pharaoh,  the 
deliverer  of  Israel,  the  historian  of  the  crea- 
tion, the  legislator  miraculously  commission- 
ed, the  prophet  divinely  inspired !  Behold 
the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the 
express  image  of  his  person !  Where  shall 
we  originally  find  him  1  From  what  pecu- 
liarity of  beginning,  promissory  of  his  fu- 
ture unexampled  grandeur,  does  his  illustri- 
ous course  commence  t  Where  is  he  that  is 
born  king  of  the  Jews,  king  of  nations,  king 
of  saints,  king  of  glory  ?  See  that  new-born 
infant,  brought  forth  in  a  stable,  wrapped  in 
coarse  swaddling  clothes,  and  laid  in  a  man- 
ger, because  there  was  no  room  for  him  in 
the  inn !  These  cases  it  will  readily  be  al- 
lowed, are  peculiar  as  well  as  extraordinary 
— but  we  may  reason  from  them.  They 
show  us  how  liable  we  are  .  to  err,  while 
judging  after  outward  appearances;  and  how 
unanswerable  present  indications  frequently 
are  to  future  events.  There  are  many  around 
us  unnoticed,  in  whom  are  lodged  talents, 
M  8* 


which  if  roused  by  circumstances,  and  im- 
proved by  diligence,  would  bless,  if  not  as- 
tonish the  church  and  the  world.  The  sub- 
ject of  these  Memoirs,  was  not  only  in  a 
considerable  degree,  an  instance  himself  of 
the  truth  of  this  remark,  but  an  example  also 
of  the  influence  it  should  have  upon  the 
mind.  He  was  observant  of  the  neighbour- 
hood in  which  he  lived,  and  of  the  congrega- 
tions in  which  he  preached ;  he  never  over- 
looked the  lower  ranks  of  life,  but  endeavoured 
to  draw  forth  and  encourage  every  token  of 
piety  or  talent,  however  destitute  of  external 
recommendation.  How  often  would  he  say — 

"Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene, 

The  dark  unfathom'd  caves  of  ocean  bear; 
Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
Anil  waste  its  sweetness  on  tile  desert  air." 

Secondly.  We  see  what  progress  may  be 
made  under  the  greatest  disadvantages.  It 
is  frequently  the  case,  that  those  who  have 
the  means  and  opportunities  of  improvement, 
undervalue  and  neglect  them ;  while  others 
who  are  desirous  of  excelling,  are  denied 
these  assistances.  But  diligence  conquers 
the  hardest  things.  An  intense  desire  of 
knowledge  vvill  not  suffer  a  man  to  be  idle. 
It  will  create  the  helps  it  does  not  find.  It 
will  detach  leisure  from  distraction,  and  soli- 
tude from  company;  it  will  keep  open  the 
eyes  and  the  ears;  and  by  lively,  active, 
minute,  habitual  attention  it  will  aggregate 
and  multiply  intellectual  stores ;  it  vvill  ren- 
der every  place  a  school,  and  every  occur- 
rence a  tutor;  it  will  suffer  nothing  to  be 
lost. 

"Some  minds  are  temppr'd  happily,  and  mix'd 
With  such  ingredients  of  good  sense  and  taste 
Of  what  is  excellent  in  man,  they  thirst 
With  such  a  zeal  to  he  w  hat  they  approve, 
That  no  restraints  can  circumscribe  them  more 
Than  they  themselves  by  choice,  for  wisdom's  sake; 
Nor  can  example  hurt  them." — 

None  therefore  should  despair.  Especially 
let  young  men,  who  wish  to  render  them- 
selves respectable  and  useful,  by  the  cultiva- 
tion of  their  minds  and  the  acquisition  of 
science,  he  encouraged.  Let  them  see  what 
individuals  have  become,  who  never  enjoyed 
the  advantages  of  a  classical  education,  re- 
gular tuition,  and  ample  libraries.  How 
many  instances  might  be  mentioned,  to  refer 
only  to  modern  times.  And  that  which  has 
been  done,  may  be  done — by  assiduity  and 
the  divine  blessing.  And  if  any  choose,  in 
the  possession  of  advantages  which  others 
want,  to  be  idle  and  ignorant,  let  them  re- 
member that  their  case  is  not  peculiar :  there 
have  been,  and  there  arc, 

"  Whom  schools  dismiss'd 

And  colleges,  untaught." — 

Thirdly.  We  learn  how  much  good  may 
be  done  by  small  resources.  The  poor  and 
miserable  have  seldom  been  much  indebted 
to  the  rich  and  great.  In  general  the  de- 
mands of  those  in  the  higher  circles  of  life 


DO 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


are  equal  to  their  supplies :  for  they  have  not 
only  the  requisitions  of  necessity,  and  conve- 
nience, and  decency  to  satisfy,  but  those  of 
pride,  and  luxury,  and  folly.  An  allowed 
distinction  above  the  vulgar  will  not  content 
them:  they  must  be  costly,  and  vie  with 
each  other  in  the  splendour  of  appearance. 
And  hence,  whatever  be  their  income,  they 
have  little  to  spare  for  benevolent  purposes. 
Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  their  mode  of 
life  will  allow  them  to  be  very  familiar  with 
scenes  of  indigence  and  distress.  They  will 
pass  by  on  the  other  side,  rather  than  ap- 
proach the  wounded  traveller ;  the  lamenta- 
ble tale  of  wo  must  not  mingle  with  their 
music ;  their  feelings  cannot  bear  to  be 
shocked.  "  They  send  forth  their  little  ones 
like  a  flock,  and  their  children  dance.  They 
take  the  timbrel  and  harp,  and  rejoice  at  the 
sound  of  the  organ.  They  spend  their  days 
in  wealth,  and  in  a  moment  go  down  to  the 
grave." 

But  others  do  good  and  communicate  with- 
out affluence.  By  small  contributions  often  re- 
peated, by  applications  to  those  who  are  more 
ready  to  give  than  to  do  alms ;  by  the  force 
of  example  reproaching  and  stimulating  others; 
by  self-denial,  by  economy,  by  contrivance ;  by 
numberless  and  nameless  personal  attentions, 
where  nothing  of  a  pecuniary  nature  is  con- 
ferred ;  they  are  even  rich  in  good  works.  It 
would  be  surprising  to  those  whose  "  strength 
is  to  sit  still,"  could  they  see  what  may  be 
done  by  a  single  individual  zealously  disposed, 
and  wisely  employed.    I  fear  we  do  not  suf- 
ficiently make  this  business  our  object;  for 
there  is  much  truth  in  the  remark  of  Richard 
Baxter,  that  our  success  commonly  bears  a 
much  more  exact  proportion  to  our  design, 
our  desire,  and  our  hope,  than  we  are  apt  to 
imagine.    Let  this  thought  be  enthroned  in 
the  mind.  Let  it  influence  ministers,  parents, 
and  individuals  who  are  concerned  to  serve 
their  generation  according  to  the  will  of  God. 
Let  us  lay  it  down  as  a  principle,  that  no  good 
effort  is  entirely  useless.    Let  us  never  be 
discouraged,  because  we  do  not  command  an 
amplitude  of  means,  but  instead  of  bewailing 
what  is  impossible,  let  us  labour  to  effect  what 
is  practicable.   Let  us  never  excuse  our  neg- 
ligence, by  accusing  our  stations — but  remem- 
ber that  the  ways  of  doing  good  are  infinitely 
various ;  that  they  are  found  in  every  period 
of  life;  in  every  relation,  in  every  condition, 
in  every  circumstance:  that  the  luxury  of 
doing  good  is  so  great,  that  the  Father  of 
Mercies  has  not  confined  it  to  a  few;  all  may 
taste  it ;  all  cannot  be  liberal,  but  all  may  be 
kind ;  all  cannot  be  generous,  but  all  may  be 
useful. 

One  is  sometimes  astonished  to  see  the  in- 
difference with  which  the  rich  and  great  are 
carried  to  their  long  home. — There  rolls  by 
the  procession.  It  is  splendid ;  but  not  inter- 
esting. It  attracts  numbers ;  but  not  mourners. 


It  gratifies  curiosity ;  but  it  repels  sympathy. 
The  reason  is  obvious.  What  has  he  done ; 
for  whose  happiness  has  he  lived  but — his 
own!  Something  of  him  will  remain  on  the 
marble;  but  nothing  written  on  the  fleshly 
table  of  the  heart  "  I  have  seen  the  wicked 
in  great  power,  and  spreading  himself  like  a 
green  bay-tree.  Yet  he  passed  away,  and  lo, 
he  was  not ;  yea,  I  sought  him,  but  he  could 
not  be  found."  But  what  a  sensibility  is  pro- 
duced by  the  loss  of  an  individual  who  filled 
no  public  office,  who  possessed  no  large  bags 
of  gold  and  silver,  who  was  hardly  known 
twenty  miles  off. — He  seemed  insignificant. 
The  ties  that  bound  many  to  him  were  not 
known — but  sickness  awakened  anxieties  and 
inquiry,  his  death  drew  forth  his  dependents, 
and  at  the  mouth  of  the  grave  was  testified 
the  importance  which  had  been  concealed  in 
life. 

I  remember  some  years  ago  to  have  buried 
a  corpse. — In  the  extremity  of  the  audience 
that  surrounded  me — I  discerned  a  female 
wrinkled  with  age,  and  bending  with  weak- 
ness— one  hand  held  a  motherless  grandchild, 
the  other  wiped  away  her  tears,  with  the  cor- 
ner of  a  woollen  apron. — I  pressed  towards 
her  when  the  service  was  closed. — "Have 
you  lost  a  friend  V — She  heaved  a  melancholy 
sigh — "The  Lord  bless  her  memory!" — I 
soon  found  the  deceased  had  allowed  her  for 
several  years  sixpence  per  week!  O  my 
God !  is  it  possible  that  the  appropriation  of  a 
sum  so  inconsiderable,  may  cause  a  widow's 
heart  to  sing  for  joy,  and  save  the  child  of  the 
needy ! — Who  would  waste  a  sixpence ;  who 
would  indulge  themselves  in  extravagance; 
who  would  not  deny  themselves,  to  be  able  to 
secure  the  blessing  of  them  that  are  ready  to 
perish  ! 

What  we  said  with  regard  to  the  cause  of 
the  poor  will  equally  apply  to  the  cause  of 
God.  And  this,  as  well  as  the  former,  was 
exemplified  in  the  character  we  are  review- 
ing. There  is  one  thing  I  would  peculiarly 
recommend  to  notice.  It  is  the  service  he 
has  rendered  to  the  church  of  Christ,  by  his 
training  up  young  men  to  labour  in  the  gos- 
pel ;  with  regard  to  several  of  whom  he  had 
no  other  support  than  casual  assistance.  "  It 
has  long  been  my  opinion,"  says  he,  in  one  of 
his  letters,  "that  if  every  minister  would 
keep  a  young  man  under  his  care,  and  nurse 
him  for  God,  it  would  prove  a  blessing  of  no 
inconsiderable  extent,  supposing  that  while 
he  is  obliged  to  learn,  he  be  also  permitted  to 
teach." 

Let  us  not  be  slothful,  but  followers  of 
them  who,  through  faith  and  patience  inherit 
the  promises.  Our  opportunities  of  doing 
good  will  soon  be  over,  and  they  are  as  un- 
certain as  they  are  short 

Fourthly.  What  an  impression  is  made 
by  constant  and  consistent  goodness.  No  cha- 
racter indeed  however  holy,  and  however 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


91 


amiable,  will  elude  all  opposition  or  reflection 
in  passing  through  life.  Even  among  his  re- 
ligious connexions  he  may  suffer,  and  be 
wounded  in  the  house  of  his  friends.  Some 
of  those  who  profess  godliness  have  not  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  and  are  none  of  his.  Really 
good  men  have  their  imperfections  and  preju- 
dices. Their  minds  are  not  always  polished 
by  education,  or  enlarged  by  knowledge. 
Their  habits  of  thinking  are  often  extreme- 
ly limited.  They  view  every  subject  through 
a  key-hole.  They  cannot  take  those  en- 
larged views  of  things  which  are  necessary 
to  do  justice  to  a  superior  character,  and 
therefore  may  misconstrue  his  motives  when 
they  are  most  pure,  and  censure  his  plans 
when  they  are  most  wise.  They  may  condemn 
his  prudence  as  cowardice,  and  his  candour  as 
a  want  of  zeal. 

And  if  these  things  be  done  in  the  green- 
tree,  what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry  3  There 
is  a  reproach  irreparably  attached  to  the  cross. 
Genuine  religion  never  can  be  really  loved 
by  the  natural  man.  "  The  spirit  of  the 
world,"  and  "  the  spirit  that  is  of  God,"  are 
so  opposite  to  each  other,  that  before  there 
can  be  a  cordial  union  and  harmony,  one  of 
them  must  be  changed.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
determine  in  which  of  these  the  change  must 
take  place.  Indeed  it  is  already  determined ; 
"  Be  not  conformed  to  this  world ;  but  be  ye 
transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your  mind, 
that  ye  may  prove  what  is  that  good  and  ac- 
ceptable and  perfect  will  of  God."  He  who 
was  fairer  than  the  children  of  men,  said  to 
his  disciples,  "  If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the 
world  would  love  its  own ;  but  because  ye  are 
not  of  the  world,  but  I  have  chosen  you  out 
of  the  world,  therefore  the  world  hateth  you." 
To  those  who  did  not  believe  on  him,  he  said, 
"  The  world  cannot  hate  you ;  but  me  it 
hateth,  because  I  testify  of  it,  that  the  works 
thereof  are  evil."  The  reasoning  from  hence 
is  easy,  and  the  application  needless. — But 
our  Saviour  could  say,  "  Which  of  you  con- 
vinceth  me  of  sin  1 — "  Many  good  works 
have  I  showed  you  from  my  Father ;  for  which 
of  these  works  do  ye  stone  me  1"  The  ene- 
mies of  Daniel  were  forced  to  confess ;  "  We 
shall  not  find  any  occasion  against  this  man, 
except  we  find  it  against  him  concerning  the 
law  of  his  God."  In  agreement  with  which 
is  the  language  of  the  apostle :  "  If  ye  be  re- 
proached for  the  name  of  Christ,  happy  are 
ye ;  for  the  spirit  of  glory  and  of  God  resteth 
upon  you.  On  their  part  he  is  evil  spoken  of, 
but  on  your  part  he  is  glorified.  But  let  none 
of  you  suffer  as  a  murderer,  or  as  a  thief,  or 
as  an  evil  doer,  or  as  a  busy  body  in  other 
men's  matters."  Hence  it  appears,  that  there 
is  a  reproach  very  distinguishable  from  that 
which  results  from  our  cause,  and  for  which 
we  are  accountable.  And  this  may  be,  and 
will  be  avoided  by  a  conscientious  and  exem- 


plary uniformity,  so  that  no  evil  thing  can  be 
said  of  us. 

By  means  of  this  we  adorn  the  doctrine  of 
God  our  Saviour ;  we  put  to  silence  the  igno- 
rance of  foolish  men ; — while  others  are  even 
won  without  the  word,  and  constrained  to 
glorify  God  in  the  day  of  visitation :  accord- 
ing to  the  admonition  of  our  Lord :  "  Let  your 
light  so  shine  before  men  that  they  may  see 
your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven."  flow  powerful  is  the 
silent  eloquence  of  a  holy  and  blameless  life. 
Actions  speak  louder  than  words ;  and  prac- 
tice might  be  rendered  more  useful  than 
preaching.  It  is  an  awful  consideration  that 
we  are  "  the  epistles  of  Christ,"  and  by  read- 
ing us,  the  world  will  judge  of  our  religion ; 
"  What  manner  of  persons  therefore  ought 
we  to  be  in  all  holy  conversation  and  godli- 
ness !"  How  careful  should  we  be  to  make  a 
righteous  and  a  favourable  impression,  by  the 
influence  of  our  character. 

How  lamentable  it  is  to  observe  in  Ritchie's 
"  Life  of  Hume,"  that  such  a  man  as  Dr. 
Robertson,  could  be  addressed  in  the  language 
of  profane  swearing ;  but  this  undeniably  ap- 
pears in  the  letters  of  the  philosopher  to  him ; 
and  by  parity  of  reasoning,  we  may  conclude 
that  in  the  same  style  he  was  often  greeted 
in  conversation  too.*  We  all  know  how  a 
consciousness  of  the  character  we  are  ad- 
dressing affects  us  both  in  our  correspondence 
and  our  discourse.  There  are  men  with 
whom  every  one  would  feel  it  as  impossible 
to  use  irreligious  improprieties,  as  to  throw 
mud  in  the  king's  face ;  the  majesty  of  the 
being  would  defend  him.  There  is  something 
defective,  especially  in  a  minister,  unless  his 
character  produces  an  atmosphere  around 
him,  which  is  felt  as  soon  as  entered.  He, 
even  more  than  a  Christian,  is  a  representa- 
tive of  Deity,  and  the  place  whereon  he 
standeth  is  holy  ground.  It  is  not  enough 
for  him  to  have  courage  to  reprove  certain 
things,  he  should  have  dignity  enough  to 
prevent  them — and  he  will — if  the  Christian 
be  commensurate  with  the  preacher,  and  he 
walks  worthy  of  God,  who  has  called  us  unto 
his  kingdom  and  glory.  This  was  the  case 
with  the  man  of  God,  whose  loss  we  deplore. 
What  he  professed  to  be,  he  was,  invariably 
and  throughout.  In  his  character  there  was 
nothing  to  be  concealed ;  nothing  to  be  prop- 
ped. It  was  an  assemblage  of  excellency 
that  would  bear  the  closest  inspection,  and  it 
struck  every  beholder.  It  was  impossible  to 
be  an  infidel  near  him.    Every  one  saw  in 

*  See  a  most  eloquent  and  impressive  notice  of  this 
book  in  the  Eclectic  Review  for  January,  1808.  I  can- 
not help  availing  myself  of  an  opportunity  to  recom- 
mend this  review  most  earnestly  to  the  attention  of  my 
religious  readers  in  particular,  and  of  the  public  in  ge- 
neral. He  surely  has  not  candidly  inspected  this  valu- 
able publication,  who  does  not  allow  that  its  literary 
merit,  its  liberal  principles,  and  its  evangelical  tenden- 
I  cy,  entitle  it  to  extensive  encouragement. 


92 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


him  the  truth,  the  efficacy,  the  glory  of  the 
gospel.  No  one  that  approached  him  could 
be  wicked ;  he  was  ashamed  of  every  thing 
sinful,  till  he  got  out  of  the  reach  of  his  voice  ; 
the  sight  of  his  person,  and  the  remembrance 
of  his  name.  He  did  much  good  in  the  pulpit, 
but  unspeakably  more  out  of  it.  He  taught 
publicly,  and  also  from  house  to  house :  but 
when  nothing  was  said,  he  was  always  in- 
structing, reproving,  admonishing,  and  en- 
couraging by  his  heavenly  example.  His  life 
crowned  his  labours.  What  he  did  was  en- 
forced by  what  he  was. 

Fifthly.  We.  arc  led  to  reflect  on  the  ad- 
vantages of  evangelical  religion.  It  must  be 
allowed  that  the  deceased  discovered  the 
spirit,  and  exemplified  the  life  of  a  Christian 
in  no  common  degree.  But  it  may  be  con- 
tended, that  the  character  we  have  pourtrayed 
was  independent  of  the  principles  which  he 
had  adopted ;  and  that  he  was  so  excellent, 
notwithstanding  his  sentiments,  rather  than 
as  the  result  of  them.  Such  an  insinuation 
can  only  arise  from  an  unhappy  indisposition 
to  admit  evidence  in  favour  of  what  are  called, 
the  doctrines  of  grace :  nor  is  there  any  plau- 
sible ground  for  the  supposition.  Every  man 
that  deserves  the  name  of  a  character,  and  in 
proportion  to  his  excellence,  lives  not  acci- 
dentally, but  by  rule :  he  moves  not  uncer- 
tainly, but  is  governed  by  some  fixed  views 
and  motives :  he  does  not  leave  the  vessel  to 
the  current,  or  the  wind ;  he  has  a  port  in 
view,  a  rudder,  a  compass.  Hence  you  know 
such  a  person ;  you  can  rely  upon  him ;  you 
can  determine  previously  the  course  he  will 
take  in  such  an  occurrence  of  circumstances. 
It  is  otherwise  with  a  man  who  has  no  prin- 
ciples. He  is  the  creature  of  whims,  and  of 
events.  You  have  no  hold  of  him ;  nor  can 
he  rely  upon  himself. 

No  person  could  exhibit  more  consistency 
than  was  to  be  found  in  the  character  of  Mr. 
Winter.  There  was  the  most  exact  conform- 
ity between  his  actions  and  his  sentiments ; 
and  from  the  seed  sown,  you  knew  the  grain 
that  was  to  spring  up.  The  doctrines  he  pro-  i 
fessed,  he  most  firmly  believed.  He  originally 
embraced  religion  in  the  form  of  them;  he 
habitually  viewed  it  through  no  other  me-  : 
dium.    These  doctrines  with  him  were  not 
distant  and  occasional  speculations ;  they  were  > 
brought  into  daily  use ;  they  mingled  with  all  i 
his  devotional  exercises.   He  was  concerned  i 
to  advance  in  the  life  of  godliness — he  knew  ' 
what  it  was  that  most  favourably  impressed  1 
him — he  was  incapable  of  avowing  influences  < 
which  he  never  felt,  and  advantages  which  < 
he  never  enjoyed — but  such,  living  and  dying  1 
were  his  acknowledgments  in  honour  of  the 
sentiments  he  had  embraced  and  examined,  i 
He  was  alive  to  the  welfare  of  others;  his  i 
design  was  not  to  make  them  proselytes  to  a  1 
a  party,  but  real,  and  practical  and  useful  i 
Christians;  and  had  he  not  been  persuaded  £ 


1  that  the  adoption  of  these  religious  views 
would  have  the  most  salutary  influence,  he 
would  not  in  public,  and  in  private,  and  in 
his  correspondence,  have  recommended  them. 
It  will  be  observed  for  what  purpose  I  here 
mentioned  these  things;  it  is  only  to  prove 
that  these  doctrines  were  in  him  not  opinions, 
but  principles.  For  if  principles  are  opera- 
tive causes,  if  they  are  grounds  of  action,  if 
they  are  leading  motives,  his  religious  senti- 
ments were  principles  of  his  character ;  they 
were  at  once  the  springs  of  his  consolation, 
and  of  his  conduct  too. 

But  if  this  be  allowed,  surely  it  follows 
that  they  are  not  deserving  of  the  treatment 
they  have  so  often  encountered.  They  have 
indeed  frequently  been  reprobated,  as  of  the 
most  pernicious  tendency  with  regard  to  our- 
selves, our  fellow-creatures,  and  above  all, 
God  himself.  But  I  here  see  a  man  under 
their  governance — with  regard  to  God,  full 
of  love,  and  of  confidence,  always  concerned 
to  please  him,  and  always  rejoicing  in  him  ; 
thankful  for  his  favours,  and  resigned  to  his 
corrections : — with  regard  to  others,  univer- 
sally benevolent  as  to  their  welfare,  full  of 
pardon  as  to  their  faults,  and  of  pity  as  to 
their  miseries ;  pleading  their  cause,  and  re- 
lieving their  wants: — with  regard  to  himself, 
neither  inclined  to  licentiousness,  nor  self- 
conceit;  nor  trusting  in  his  own  righteous- 
ness, nor  despising  others ;  as  watchful  as 
prayerful ;  abhorring  merit,  but  delighting  in 
obedience;  delivered  from  the  tyranny  of  un- 
hallowed appetites  and  passions;  exercising 
self-denial ;  possessing  peace  of  conscience ; 
relishing  with  moderation  the  enjoyments  of 
life,  but  willing  to  leave  them ;  viewing  death 
with  solemnity,  yet  raised  above  the  fear  of  it. 

If  persons  will  not  trace  by  reasoning  the 
connexion  there  is  between  these  principles 
and  this  practice,  they  may  appeal  to  fact,  and 
learn  that  these  truths  have  had  the  best  in- 
fluence over  the  heart  and  life.  The  conclu- 
sion is  obvious.  "  Do  men  gather  grapes  from 
thorns,  or  figs  from  thistles  V  It  is  natural  to 
suppose  that  divine  truth  will  have  a  powerful 
influence  over  those  who  truly  embrace  it: 
we  know  that  the  gospel  is  a  doctrine 
according  to  godliness  :  we  are  sure  that 
when  it  was  originally  delivered,  it  awaken- 
ed in  men  a  supreme  concern  for  the 
salvation  of  the  soul,  induced  them  to  for- 
sake the  present  evil  world,  and  filled  them 
with  zeal  to  be  useful  to  others ;  it  turned 
them  from  dumb  idols,  to  serve  the  living 
God,  and  to  wait  for  his  Son  from  heaven, 
even  Jesus,  who  delivered  us  from  the  wrath 
to  come ;  to  worship  God  in  the  spirit,  and  re- 
joice in  Christ  Jesus,  and  have  no  confidence 
in  the  flesh :  to  account  all  things  but  loss 
for  the  excellency  of  the  Redeemer's  know- 
ledge, and  constrained  by  his  love,  to  live,  not 
unto  themselves,  but  to  him  that  died  for  them 
and  rose  again.    This  is  a  very  brief  and  im- 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


93 


perfect  relation  of  the  effects  of  evangelical 
doctrine  upon  those  who  heard  the  gospel  at 
first  But  it  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose.  It 
may  be  well  to  ask,  what  kind  of  preaching, 
in  our  day,  produces  the  same  kind  of  living  ! 
Wherever  it  is  found,  it  has  the  signature  of 
Deity  upon  it :  and  nothing  but  ignorance  and 
inattention  can  deny  the  importance  of  it. 

Lastly.  What  a  stimulus  have  we  here  to 
pious  excellency.  There  is  a  great  difference 
between  the  reality  of  religion  and  the  degree 
of  it.  A  man  may  be  alive  and  not  well ;  he 
may  be  able  to  subsist,  and  not  be  rich — but 
we  are  required  to  be  rich  in  faith,  and  in 
good  works ;  and  not  only  to  have  life,  but 
to  have  it  more  abundantly.  There  are  con- 
solations and  privileges  which  depend  on 
growth  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour :  and  a  Christian  should 
be  ambitious  of  obtaining  them.  He  should 
not  be  satisfied  with  a  conviction  of  his  safe- 
ty. His  soul  should  prosper.  He  should  be 
concerned  for  the  welfare  of  his  genera- 
tion, and  the  glory  of  his  God.  He  should 
"  Follow  the  Lord  wholly"  with  Caleb  ;  and, 
with  Paul,  "  Forget  the  things  that  are  be- 
hind, and  reach  forth  unto  those  things  that 
are  before,  and  press  towards  the  mark  for 
the  prize  of  his  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus." 

This  is  the  way  to  seize  the  prerogatives 
of  the  Christian.  Such  as  these,  God  not  only 
saves,  but  dignifies.  He  crowns  them  in  eter- 
nity, and  he  owns  them  here.  Whatever  free- 
dom there  may  be  in  the  operations  of  his 
grace,  in  dispensing  honour  he  always  observes 
a  rule,  and  he  has  told  us  what  it  is — "  Them 
that  honour  me,  I  will  honour,  and  they  that 

despise  me  shall  be  lightly  esteemed."  

"  Therefore  hath  the  Lord  recompensed  me 
according  to  my  righteousness,  according  to 
the  cleanness  of  my  hands  in  his  eye-sight. 
With  the  merciful  thou  wilt  show  thyself  mer- 
ciful ;  with  an  upright  man  thou  wilt  show 
thyself  upright ;  with  the  pure  thou  wilt  show 
thyself  pure ;  and  with  the  fro  ward  thou  wilt 
show  thyself  froward ;  for  thou  wilt  save  the 
afflicted  people;  but  wilt  bring  down  high 
looks." 

"  Therefore,mybeloved  brethren,  be  ye 
steadfast,  unmoveable,  always  abounding 
in  the  work  of  the  lord  ;  forasmuch  as 
ye  know  that  your  labour  is  not  in  vain 
in  the  lord." 


PART  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  DIARY. 

Every  thing  that  habituates  us  to  sacred 
retirement ;  that  leads  us  to  self-inspection, 
and  promotes  self-acquaintance;  that  causes 
U3  to  review  past  events,  and  examine  what 
improvement  we  have  made  of  them ;  that 


i  produces  comparisons  between  our  present 
I  and  former  experience,  either  for  our  re- 
!  proof  or  encouragement— is  confessedly  valu- 
able. 

Hence  good  men  have  been  accustomed 
to  write  diaries.  It  was  known  that  Mr. 
Winter  approved  of  such  a  custom,  and  I 
hoped  that  among  his  papers  I  should  find  a 
complete  journal.  But  in  this  I  was  disap- 
pointed. 

I  saw  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends,  the  fol- 
lowing acknowledgment — "  I  have  been  guil- 
ty of  a  capital  omission — the  neglect  of  a 
regular  diary."  Even  this  did  not  destroy  a 
hope  that  several  interesting  portionsofhis  life 
had  been  recorded  by  him.  But  all  that  has 
been  discovered  consists  of  nothing  more  than 
two  fragments,  began  early  in  his  public  life, 
and  soon  relinquished. 

Nor  are  these  distinguishable  by  any  tiling 
superior  in  the  subject,  or  the  execution.  The 
whole  is  too  much  in  the  form  of  the  Metho- 
distical  registers  of  this  kind,  which,  though 
they  may  be  useful  in  a  degree,  are  surely 
very  capable  of  improvement.  If  it  be  proper 
to  make  daily  observations,  it  is  not  always 
necessary  to  write  them.  For  this  purpose 
perhaps  weekly  retrospects,  or  annual  reviews, 
would  be  preferable.  By  this  means  their 
sameness  might  be  varied,  and  their  dulness 
enlivened.  They  might  be  rendered  less 
minute  and  more  important.  They  might  be 
extended  beyond  the  detail  of  one  class  of 
feelings,  and  which  are  often  misunderstood 
as  to  their  cause  and  indications ;  for  how  fre- 
quently is  it  the  case,  that  no  distinction  is 
made  between  the  variations  of  the  animal 
frame,  and  the  operations  of  spiritual  agen- 
cy; between  physical  and  moral  inabilities 
and  fervours. 

Of  the  plan  we  would  recommend,  we  have 
a  pattern  in  Dr.  Doddridge ;  and  no  one  can 
help  grieving  that  more  of  his  diary  was  not 
made  public.  We  there  see  a  man  not  only 
looking  backward,  but  forward  ;  not  only  com- 
plaining, but  resolving  ;  not  only  praying,  but 
striving;  attentive  indeed  to  his  pains  and 
pleasures  in  the  divine  life,  but  always  con- 
necting with  practice — you  see  him  investi- 
gating his  moral  character,  as  well  as  his 
spiritual  state;  you  see  what  methods  he  took 
to  conquer  evil  propensities,  and  to  strengthen 
religious  habits ;  you  see  how  he  kept  alive 
the  zeal  that  carried  him  through  so  many 
difficulties,  and  acquired  the  patience  that 
supported  him  under  so  many  trials. 

Short  and  imperfect  as  these  manuscripts 
are,  I  shall  here  present  a  few  pages  of  them. 
They  serve  to  show  the  pious  state  of  the 
writer's  mind,  and  may  convince  the  reader 
that  the  exercises  which  he  has  often  been  led 
to  consider  as  peculiar  to  himself,  have  been 
the  familiar  experience  of  the  Lord's  people: 
and  should  therefore  prove  way-marks  rather 
than  stumbling-blocks. 


94  MEMOIRS  OF 

"  Once  they  were  mourning  here  below, 
And  wet  their  couch  with  tears; 
They  wrestled  hard,  as  we  do  now, 
With  cries,  with  doubts,  and  fears." 

"  I  find  from  a  recollection  of  past  circum- 
stances, I  have  been  very  remiss  in  not 
continuing  a  method  of  keeping  a  diary  of 
the  dealings  of  God  with  me,  but  now,  by 
thy  grace  assisting  me,  I  will  remark  thy 
goodness,  O  Lord,  who  art  plenteous  in  re- 
demption, and  abundant  in  goodness  and  in 
truth.  A  more  proper  opportunity  I  cannot 
have  than  in  the  ever  memorable  instance  of 
thy  salvation,  O  Lord,  this  25th  day  of  Octo- 
ber, in  which  I  enter  into  the  25th  year  of 
my  age,  at  which  time  the  Lord  was,  pleased 
to  give  me  an  humbling  sense  of  my  wretch- 
edness, .in  so  much  that  I  could  not  help 
weeping  much  in  secret,  on  account  of  my 
own  un worthiness,  and  his  all-sufficient  grace. 
— Was  much  assisted  in  this  view  by  reading 

Gen.  xviii.  xix.    Wrote  to  M  ,  visited 

a  friend,  and  had  reason  to  say,  hitherto  hath 
the  Lord  helped  me. 

"  Tuesday  26. — In  the  morning  continued 
my  usual  studies;  breakfasted  with  sister 

S  ,  there  met  a  poor  desponding  woman ; 

endeavoured  to  recommend  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  to  speak  of  his  precious  promises. 

Dined  with  Mr.  S  ;  our  conversation  was 

not  light,  but  turned  more  upon  the  creature, 
than  the  Creator. — Received  a  letter  from 

Mr.  W  d,  desiring  me  to  return  directly. 

In  the  afternoon  visited  poor  Mrs.  B  1, 

with  others,  where  we  sung  hymns  and  pray- 
ed. I  expounded  the  thirty-second  chapter 
of  Isaiah,  first  and  second  verses.  Our  op- 
portunity was  solid ;  there  was  something  of 
the  Lord's  power  manifested.  I  find  it  very 
useful  to  employ  myself  in  those  exercises 
among  my  friends,  as  it  keeps  out  frothy  con- 
versation, and  furnishes  me  with  spiritual 
matter  preparative  to  public  work.    In  the 

evening,  supped  with  brother  H  n;  the 

evening  was  spent  in  reading  the  Scripture, 
singing,  prayer,  and  narrations  of  the  Lord's 
providence,  which  shows  that  he  is  good  and 
gracious. 

"  Thursday  27. — This  morning  set  out  for 
London ;  was  much  assisted  in  my  meditation 
by  the  autumn  season.    Breakfasted  at  Mr. 

H  's,  arrived  in  London  at  two  in  the 

afternoon ;  my  time  in  the  boat  was  spent  in 
silent  prayer  and  reading.  I  could  not  get 
opportunity,  nor  find  freedom  to  speak  to  any 
of  the  company,  all  of  whom  were  abandoned 
people,  but  not  so  intolerably  outrageous  as 

some  I  have  been  with  there.    Mr.  W  1 

received  me  kindly ;  when  I  came  home  with 
him  went  to  Tottenham-court  chapel,  where 

Mr.  J         read  many  letters  of  the  gospel 

progress ;  Mr.  W  d  explained  many  things 

in  them. — Though  my  body  was  weak,  my 
soul  was  as  the  chariot  of  Aminadab.  I  could 
rejoice,  not  for  myself  only,  but  for  them  who 
had  obtained  like  precious  faith,  and  believe 


C.  WINTER. 

I  shall  sit  down  with  them  at  the  marriage 
supper  of  the  Lamb." 

"  Sunday  30. — If  I  forget  this  day,  let  my 
right  hand  forget  her  cunning!  I  rose  in  the 
morning  at  four,  with  a  scripture  on  my  heart; 
my  former  day's  conflict  was  vanquished,  and 
this  was  the  language  of  my  heart,  '  My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God,  even  for  the  living  God; 
when  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God'!' 
Luke  xxii.  37.  '  The  things  concerning  me 
have  an  end,'  was  applied  with  great  power. 
— On  the  road,  could  not  help  weeping  much 
on  account  of  sin ;  and  a  sense  of  the  Lord's 
goodness  to  me,  with  a  sight  of  the  unparal- 
leled love  of  Jesus,  so  broke  my  heart,  I  could 
hardly  help  disturbing  the  congregation ;  but 
the  Lord  kept  me,  and  I  hope  put  my  tears 
into  his  bottle.    Was  much  refreshed  under 

Mr.  W  d's  sermon,  from  Acts  xvi.  13 — 

15." 

"  Thursday,  Nov.  10. — Arose  as  I  went  to 
bed ;  had  been  much  tempted  all  night,  but 
enabled  to  take  comfort  from  that  precious 
promise, '  I  have  prayed  for  thee.'  Wrote  to 

Mr.  J  s,  and  Mr.  M  d  breakfasted 

with  me  and  Miss  B  n;  our  conversation 

was  upon  the  favourite  topic.    Mr.  W  d 

arrived  at  eleven,  which  gave  me  great  joy ; 
was  much  laid  out  in  prayer  for  him,  that  the 
Lord  may  prolong  his  days. — Dined  with  the 

poor  at  Mr.  I  d's,  endeavoured  to  improve 

the  opportunity ;  was  very  dead  till  I  began 
to  expound  the  sixth  chapter  of  John,  when  I 
found  my  heart  deeply  affected. — Visited 
Mrs.  S — — r  in  the  close  of  the  day ;  she  still 
continues  a  mourner  in  Sion ;  the  Lord  grant 
she  may  reap  in  joy." 

"  Thursday  17. — This  morning  rose  at  four 
o'clock;  had  much  conversation  with  Mr. 
 .  Was  much  alarmed  at  some  intima- 
tion of  one  who  hath  left  poor  evidences  of 
conversion,  after  glaring  profession.  Lord 
give  me  to  walk  circumspect!  In  the  fore- 
part of  the  day  was  led  into  some  comfortable 
discoveries  of  salvation.  In  the  afternoon, 
preached  at  Kingswood,  from  Matt.  xi.  28. 
had  nothing  particular.    Supped  with  Mr. 

W  d  at  Mrs.  D  y's,  who  is  a  discreet 

and  well-taught  woman.  Various  was  our 
conversation,  and  to  some  profit.  Returned 
home  at  nine  o'clock,  went  to  bed  under  great 
bodily  weakness.  Lord  be  the  strength  of  my 
heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever." 

"  Saturday  19. — Busily  employed  in  writ- 
ing all  day  to  my  dear  friends;  was  much 
comforted  in  meditation.  In  the  afternoon 
was  much  alarmed  in  hearing  of  dear  Mr. 

W  d's  sudden  illness,  which  he  writes  of 

as  fatal.  The  Lord  prepare  us  for  the  awful 
event,  and  grant  that  it  may  not  be  in  judg- 
ment. In  the  evening  met  the  children,  with 
whom  I  found  much  liberty ;  and  being  much 
wearied  with  the  work  of  the  day,  retired  to 
bed  in  a  sleepy  condition.  Slept  but  uneasy 
all  night,  owing,  as  I  suppose,  to  the  news 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


85 


from  Bath;  but  am  confident  of  the  Lord's 
tender  care  over  his  church,  and  his  abundant 
goodness  towards  her.  Lord,  number  me 
with  her  members,  and  grant  I  may  not  be  a 
stranger  to  the  comforts  and  blessings  of  the 
people." 

"  Sunday  20. — This  morning  waked  with 
my  soul  fixed  upon  God.  Preached  from 
Matt.  vi.  21.  a  large  congregation  of  serious 
people ;  I  had  much  liberty  in  my  soul.  At 
ten,  preached  at  Kingswood,  from  Heb.  iv. 
16.  it  was  a  feeling  tune.  Dined  at  Mr. 
T  's,  where  I  found  great  bodily  weak- 
ness, was  obliged  to  lie  on  the  bed  for  two 
hours,  O  happy  day  when  I  shall  know  no 
more  pain!  In  the  evening  preached  from 
Psalm  xcv.  7,  8. — I  just  got  through  the  op- 
portunity safely,  but  not  comfortably;  the 
congregation  was  very  large  and  all  attentive, 
O  that  my  hard  heart  could  have  felt  more 

for  sinners  than  it  did.  Hear  by  Mr.  R  s, 

Mr.  W  d  is  dangerous ;  Lord,  prepare  us 

for  the  awful  stroke !  I  felt  much  from  it  last 
night,  and  am  apprehensive  I  have  a  bitter 
draught  to  drink." 

"  Wednesday  23. — After  prayer  with  a  few 
friends,  set  out  for  London,  rode  all  the  way 
by  myself,  was  sweetly  refreshed  in  reading 
my  New  Testament,  and  felt  the  power  of 
these  words,  '  Jesus,  thou  son  of  David,  have 
mercy  on  me  !'  At  particular  times  had  dis- 
coveries of  the  promised  land  and  a  good  hope, 
through  grace,  that  I  should  enjoy  it.  La- 
boured under  much  weakness  of  body  in  my 
journey,  but  the  Lord  was  the  strength  of  my 
heart." 

"Monday  28. — This  morning  I  wrestled 
against  flesh  and  blood,  and  with  the  Lord  for 
the  conquest;  when  my  countenance  is  smooth 
and  serene,  none  but  God  knows  what  a  rough 
heart  it  shadows;  found  the  battle  was  the 

Lord's.    Dined  with  Mr.  W  d  at  Mr. 

S  n's,  occasional  conversation  caused 

most  of  us  to  weep,  my  memory  will  always 

retain  the  subject;  rode  with  Mr.  W  d  to 

Mr.  C  d,  a  backslider  from  the  truth  he 

once  rejoiced  in,  how  is  he  now  filled  with 
his  own  ways !" 

"  Tuesday  8.— Dined  with  Mr.  W  d  at 

Mrs.  H  ge's,  with  some  of  lady  II  n's 

friends,  conversation  profitable.  Mr.  W  d's 

remark  was,  '  God  always  makes  use  of  strong 
passions  for  a  great  work.'  He  wept  bitterly 
in  prayer,  and  in  which  the  whole  company 
was  moved." 

"  Thursday,  December  15. — Was  much 
relieved  from  my  late  burden,  though  much 
tempted  to  doubt  of  the  perpetuity  of  God's 
love,  but  was  enabled  to  commit  my  way  unto 
the  Lord,  expecting  he  will  bring  it  to 
pass." 

"  Friday  16. — Much  of  this  day  was  spent 
in  sorting  my  letters.  I  think  myself  happy 
in  enjoying  so  many  valuable  correspondents. 
Oh  that  I  may  follow  them,  as  they  follow 


Christ !  In  the  evening  visited  my  sister-in- 
law,  whom  I  found  in  dying  circumstances, 
but  without  any  apparent  knowledge  of  God. 
— Prayed  with  her,  and  attempted  to  converse 
with  her,  but  flesh  failed." 

"  Monday  26. — This  morning  rose  between 
six  and  seven,  but  poorly  in  body,  comforta- 
ble in  my  soul.  After  breakfast  walked  with 
Mr.  H— - — d  to  chapel ;  conversed  part  of  the 
way  of  the  things  of  God,  much  to  my  com- 
fort.— Preached  from  'His  name  shall  be 
called  Wonderful,  Counsellor.'  My  soul  was 

much  at  liberty.    Dined  with  Mr.  W  d, 

and  was  enlivened  by  the  table  talk.  Mrs. 

S  k's  relation  of  her  experience,  was  of 

great  use  to  me,  and  taught  me  how  easily 
God  could  pull  down  every  thought  that  ex- 
alteth  itself." 

From  another  diary  begun  1775. 

"  Tuesday,  December  13. — This  day  I  left 
Lancaster,  was  in  much  weakness;  many 
trials  and  many  temptations  I  have  been  la- 
bouring under  for  five  months ;  our  parting 
was  solemn  and  affecting.  Lord  grant  the 
seed  sown  may  bring  forth  fruit  to  thy  glory. 
— Preached  a  farewell  discourse  at  Garstang, 
had  liberty  in  my  soul.  Text,  Matthew 
xxv.  6." 

"Wednesday  14. — After  a  comfortable  lodg- 
ing at  Billsborough,  and  much  edifying  dis- 
course with  the  family,  proceeded  to  the 
field,  and  preached  at  night  from  Acts  xx. 
32.    It  was  a  time  of  refreshment  to  my  soul. 

Poor  R  parted  with  grief ;  I  was  much 

affected.  Blessed  be  God,  we  have  a  pros- 
pect of  a  glorious  meeting  by  and  by." 

"  Saturday  16. — Was  much  interrupted  in 
study  this  day;  had  many  agreeable  inter- 
views with  friends ;  but  in  the  evening  found 
my  spirits  low,  and  my  mind  very  languid  : 
O  Lord  quicken  me  according  to  thy  word." 

"  Sunday  17. — This  day  has  been  a  day 
of  fat  things ;  spiritual  blessings  multiplied  on 

me  abundantly.    Mr.  M  's  morning 

and  evening  sermons  were  a  great  comfort 
to  me.  I  preached  in  the  afternoon,  but  alas ! 
though  not  altogether  without  help,  how  life- 
less when  compared  with  what  I  read.  O 
that  I  may  have  a  more  growing  acquaint- 
ance with  my  Bible,  and  a  more  experiment- 
al knowledge  of  the  great  truths  it  reveals !" 

"  Monday  25. — This  has  been  a  day  of 
continual  hurry ;  very  lifeless  in  preaching, 
both  at  Hardwicke  and  Wem ;  my  body  faint 
and  weak,  my  mind  continually  agitated, 
every  thing  seems  gloomy.  I  am  in  a  straight, 
whether  to  settle  or  continue  an  itinerant ;  I 
fear  to  take  another  step.    Lord,  direct  me !" 

"Saturday  30. — Studied  the  Hebrew 
Scriptures  much  this  day,  together  with  the 
English.  Wrote  letters  and  prepared  for  the 
pulpit ;  in  general  was  refreshed,  but  towards 
night  felt  an  awful  gloom  come  upon  my 
mind  from  considering  the  state  of  our 
colonies.    If  they  are  ruined,  are  not  we  the 


96 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


cause  1  Lord !  the  sin  is  ours.  Pardon  us, 
and  pity  them." 

"  Sunday  31. — Awoke  this  morning  with 
a  frame  suitable  to  the  close  of  the  year; 
found  it  good  to  draw  near  to  the  Lord ;  heard 

my  old  friend  Mr.  H   at  Shawbury 

church,  from  Psalm  xc.  12.  it  was  a  rousing 
sermon,  profitable  to  my  soul.  I  preached  at 
Hardwicke  at  night,  with  more  liberty  than 
usual.    Some  conversation  passed  with  Mrs. 

P  s,  and  I  retired  to  bed  in  much 

serenity  of  mind.  O  that  I  may  begin  the 
new  year  with  a  new  heart,  and  renewed  in 
the  spirit  of  my  mind." 

"  Saturday,  January  6. — Came  to  Wem, 
found  my  soul  in  a  spiritual  frame,  enjoyed 
liberty  in  family  prayer,  but  barren  in  private 
prayer.  Retired  to  bed  in  much  weakness 
of  body ;  Oh  that  my  soul  may  be  strong  in 
the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  his  might !" 

"Monday  8. — Slept  little  and  very  bad. 
In  the  night  rose  very  poorly,  spent  the 
morning  in  reading  and  writing  to  Mr. 
S  1.  Came  to  Whitchurch  in  the  after- 
noon ;  a  bad  day  to  ride  in,  but  the  Lord  was 
my  Preserver.  At  night  he  proved  very  gra- 
cious to  me,  by  giving  me  much  light,  life, 
and  liberty  while  speaking  from  Isaiah  xii. 
3 — 6.  How  pleasant  it  is  to  work  for  God, 
when  God  is  with  us  in  our  work." 

"  Saturday  20. — Found  myself  dull  and 
stupid  a  great  part  of  the  day.  Was  much 
in  retirement,  read  the  Scriptures  in  the 
original,  and  closed  the  day  with  a  sweet 
calm  on  my  soul.  Had  never  a  more  lively 
faith  in  Jesus,  and  a  more  heartfelt  sense  of 
his  love." 

"  Friday  25. — After  spending  the  day  in 
company  with  many  friends,  I  walked  to 
Hardwicke,  pretty  comfortable  in  my  soul. 
I  dropped  an  inadvertent  word  this  day,  that 
much  grieved  me.  What  need  have  we  to 
say,  Set  a  watch,  O  Lord,  over  my  lips." 

"  Sunday,  February  4. — Sorely  beset  with 
my  own  heart.  O  how  hard  a  matter  to  get 
into  a  spiritual  frame.  I  am  a  teacher  of 
others,  and  have  much  to  learn  myself. 
Through  mercy  was  able  to  pay  close  atten- 
tion to  Mr.  M  dy's  sermon,  text,  Cant. 

i.  7.  I  preached  twice  with  some  liberty, 
the  more  to  be  remarked  in  the  evening,  be- 
cause I  went  into  the  pulpit  very  sapless  in 
my  own  mind.  In  my  evening  retirement 
was  much  struck  with  that  part  of  Gurnal's 
Christian  Armour,  which  treats  of  human 
learning,  necessary  furniture,  levity  to  be 
avoided  by  ministers  in  preaching,  and  other 
interesting  particulars.  I  bless  thee,  O  Lord, 
for  every  thing  that  rouses  my  stupid,  and 
quickens  my  dead  soul." 

"  Friday  9. — Had  a  very  providential  jour- 
ney to  Drayton,  escaping  heavy  weather 
which  began  and  continued  to  fall  all  the 
afternoon.  Studied  the  Greek  Testament, 
and  preached  in  the  evening;  but  was  very 


much  straitened  though  several  were  com- 
forted. Lord,  help  me  to  be  any  thing  or 
nothing  in  thy  hand,  as  thou  pleaseth,  only 
let  it  go  well  with  my  soul ;  then  I  have  no- 
thing to  fear  nor  any  thing  to  wish." 

"  Wednesday  28. — Continued  at  Welling- 
ton, and  preached  from  the  parable  of  the 
virgins;  in  the  course  of  this  day  have  been 
variously  exercised.  I  find  there  is  no  get- 
ting to  heaven  without  perpetual  conflicts. 
'  Thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  me  the  vic- 
tory.'" 

"Friday,  March  1. — Read  Mr.  Hervey, 

and  conversed  much  with  Miss  ,  on 

the  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  dined  with  Mr. 

Y  k,  and  came  afterwards  to  Wheaton 

Ashton.  Preached  with  freedom,  taken  very 
ill  afterward,  and  thought  the  hour  of  my  de- 
parture was  at  hand.  Most  of  the  night  was 
in  great  sinking  of  spirit,  but  recovered 
enough  to  enable  me  to  rise  at  two,  and  pro- 
ceed early  on  my  journey  ;  came  to  Drayton 
at  noon,  and  retired  and  made  my  will  with 
peculiar  solemnity  on  my  spirits,  but  no  dread 
of  death.  The  whole  night  was  very  bad, 
and  expected  nothing  less  than  that  I  was 
going  into  a  violent  fever ;  could  hardly  lift 
my  head  from  the  pillow." 

"  Wednesday  13. — Spent  part  of  the  morn- 
ing in  canvassing  Mr.  Fletcher's  manuscripts, 
but  we  could  come  to  no  agreement  in  senti- 
ment. We  parted  in  peace  and  love,  and  I 
had  a  pleasant  ride  to  Wheaton  Ashton,  where 
I  preached  in  the  evening  upon  Luke  xviii. 
14.  to  a  little  attentive   company;  spent 

the  evening  profitably  with  Mr.  W  s, 

and,  in  submission  to  the  will  of  God,  left 
him." 

"  Thursday  14. — Spent  the  day  at  Sherif- 
hale,  all  the  company  not  very  agreeable,  re- 
tired to  study  and  read  the  Scriptures,  was 
happy  in  my  soul,  spoke  at  night  from  Ro- 
mans i.  16.  had  no  liberty.  Whenever  I  lose 
my  feelings,  Lord,  let  it  be  to  prove  my  faith, 
and  not  as  the  effect  of  my  sin." 

"  Sunday  17. — Have  reason  to  be  thankful 
for  the  morning  opportunity  while  expound- 
ing the  parable  of  the  publican ;  and  the  resi- 
due of  the  day,  till  near  six  in  the  evening, 
was  spent  in  reading  and  conflicting  with  my 
own  heart ;  O  what  a  vail  does  the  enemy 
throw  over  my  mercies,  to  prevent  the  sight 
of  them ;  Lord,  rend  it !  Preached  at  Shaw- 
bury and  obtained  a  little  liberty,  glory  to 
God.  Spent  the  evening  and  lodged  com- 
fortably with  my  dear  friend,  Mr.  H  d. 

May  I  be  more  thankful  for  my  mercies,  and 
less  subject  to  complain  of  my  crosses." 

"  Wednesday  27. — Wrote  to  my  cousin, 
and  spent  a  very  agreeable  morning  in  retire- 
ment at  Marchemley,  preached  in  the  even- 
ing with  no  very  extraordinary  freedom,  had 
but  an  indifferent  night.  Mr.  's  con- 
versation was  edifying,  I  am  ashamed  of  my 
own  preaching  when  I  hear  a  rehearsal  of 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


!)7 


his  sermons.  Lord,  help  me  to  improve,  as 
well  as  blush." 

"  Tuesday,  April  23. — Came  early  to 
Wotton  this  morning,  a  sweet  ride  indeed ; 
the  rest  of  the  morning  1  spent  retired,  and 
found  it  good  to  be  alone.  Drank  tea,  con- 
versed, and  prayed  with  the  Miss  A  s 

and  Miss  D  r.    The  Lord  was  with  us 

of  a  truth.  O  that  every  interview  with  my 
friends  may  be  thus  honoured  !" 

"  Saturday,  May  4. — Spent  the  morning 
in  occasional  reading ;  the  afternoon  had  a 

short  interview  with  brother  C  m.  I 

noticed  some  things  he  said  with  pleasure. 

Slept  at  dear  Mr.  E  s's,  found  him  in 

a  soft  frame ;  was  enabled  to  give  him  some 
important  reproofs ;  he  took  them  kind,  and 
we  parted,  I  hope  the  better  for  our  inter- 
view." 

"  Wednesday  15. — Dined  with  Mr.   , 

of  Ebley ;  conversation  not  the  most  profit- 
able. Pardon  me,  O  Lord,  that  I  do  not 
meet  my  friends  more  like  a  minister  of 
Christ." 

"  Monday  20. — Breakfasted  with  Mr.  Hill 
at  Ebley;  taking  a  farewell  of  my  dear  friend 

Mr.  E  s,  who  is  going  to  Italy.  His 

mind  seems  exceedingly  dissipated  and  un- 
hinged from  Jesus;  the  Lord  restore  him! 
Conversation  turned  too  much  on  politics,  too 
little  on  Christ.  Mr.  Hill  set  off  in  the  after- 
noon for  London,  in  a  sweet  spirit.  On  the 
whole  this  has  been  a  day  of  dissipation." 

"  Tuesday  21. — Returned  to  Painswick, 

conversed  with  brother  H  g,  but  not  to 

my  satisfaction.  I  find  I  want  grace  to  bear 
with  the  weakness  of  my  brethren.  May 
they  have  grace  to  bear  with  mine  !" 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  SELECTION  OF  LETTERS. 

The  number  of  Mr.  Winter's  correspond- 
ents was  peculiarly  great.  Exclusive  of  the 
letters,  which  as  having  nothing  worthy  of 
preservation,  were  destroyed  as  he  received 
them;  and  the  several  hundreds  which  he 
burnt  during  his  last  illness — some  thousands 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  examiners  of  his 
papers.  Their  variety  is  as  striking  as  their 
number.  They  are  from  persons  of  all  de- 
nominations of  religion ;  of  all  conditions  in 
life.  Equally  observable  also  are  the  great- 
ness of  the  esteem,  and  the  warmth  of  the 
regard  they  express. 

As  all  these  were  in  answer  to  letters 
which  he  had  written,  or  rendering  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  write,  it  is  easy  to  see  how 
much  of  his  attention  correspondence  en- 
grossed. He  more  than  once  complained  of 
the  obligations  he  had  contracted;  and  fre- 
quently cautioned  his  young  men  not  to  fol- 
low his  example.  In  one  case  at  least  this 
advice  I  fear  was  pursued  to  the  extreme ; 
N  9 


and  this  he  equally  censured.  The  writer 
is  the  guilty  individual.  When  therefore  I 
had  my  last  interview  with  my  venerable 
friend,  he  asked  me — for  he  was  willing  if 
possible,  to  learn  of  those  he  had  taught,  to 
sketch  the  outline  of  a  sermon  from  the 
words,  "  His  letters  say  they  are  weighty," 
I  complied:  but  in  presenting  it,  expressed 
my  wonder  at  the  choice  of  the  subject,  and 
intimated  that  I  could  hardly  deem  it  im- 
portant enough,  for  the  edification  of  an  au- 
dience, many  of  whom  could  not  write  at  all. 
He  smiled  :  and  I  saw  he  had  gained  his  ob- 
ject. In  this  way  he  had  insinuated  a  mild 
reproof.  He  had  drawn  from  me  some  re- 
flections, on  the  utility  and  importance  of 
letter  writing,  by  which  I  own  I  was  con- 
demned. 

To  excel  in  epistolary  writing,  is  an  en- 
viable accomplishment,  and  may  be  rendered 
an  instrument  of  great  profit,  as  well  as  of 
pleasure.  But  every  one  has  not  a  talent 
that  is  very  ready  or  edifying.  This,  how- 
ever, the  deceased  had  in  a  peculiar  degree. 
He  wrote  with  uncommon  facility ;  and  his 
letters  were  so  full  of  hints  derived  from  his 
own  circumstances,  or  applicable  to  those  of 
his  correspondents;  they  were  enriched  with 
such  a  vein  of  experimental  religion ;  they 
exhibited  so  much  of  the  Christian  and  of  the 
friend  united,  that  if  I  had  not  been  urged  by 
others,  I  should  have  been  disposed  to  publish 
some  of  them  with  the  memoirs  of  his  life. 

Aware,  however,  that  in  general  too  many 
private  letters  are  made  public,  I  determined 
to  keep  the  selection  within  bounds :  but  I 
now  find  that  I  must  reduce  the  allotted 
number  for  want  of  room,  materials  having 
multiplied  as  I  advanced  with  the  work. 
Hence  my  perplexity  of  choice,  which  was 
considerable  before,  is  greatly  increased,  nor 
can  I  presume  to  say  that  the  very  few 
which  have  been  taken,  are  preferable  to 
many  that  remain.  Those  of  a  pastoral  na- 
ture seemed  to  have  a  claim :  the  rest  furnish 
a  variety,  and  turn  on  some  useful  and  in- 
teresting topic.  It  was  not  deemed  neces- 
sary to  observe  very  strictly  the  order  of  time 
in  which  the  letters  are  dated. 

Several  friends  have  written  requesting 
me  to  send  forth  an  additional  number  of  his 
letters  in  a  separate  work.  To  them  I  take 
this  opportunity  to  observe,  that  what  is  very 
interesting  to  us,  may  not  be  equally  so  to 
others :  that  a  sufficiency  is  here  furnished 
to  serve  by  way  of  specimen :  and  that  if  a 
wish  for  more  be  generally  expressed,  I  shall 
feel  pleasure  to  indulge  it.  Of  copies  and 
originals,  enough  have  come  into  my  hands, 
to  make  volumes;  and  they  are  all  valuable. 


To  Mr.  ,  respecting  his  settlement  at 

Marlborough. 
"  Dear  sir, — If  the  few  lines  I  wrote  to 


98 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


you  from  Gritenham  engaged  your  attention, 
or  in  any  degree  raised  your  expectation,  I 
am  sure  my  promise  being  protracted  must 
tire  your  patience  in  proportion.  But  two 
things  are  my  apology,  one  is,  that  I  have 
been  in  such  an  unsettled  state  that  unfitted 
me  to  write  upon  the  occasion ;  the  other  is, 
that  I  had  no  objection  to  let  a  matter  of  so 
great  importance  rest,  till  I  could  well  de- 
liberate upon  it  in  my  own  mind.  The  very 
signal  kind  ess  you  have  shown  the  gospel, 
from  its  first  entrance  into  Marlborough  until 
now,  deservedly  entitles  you  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  people  who  profess  it:  I 
therefore  suppose  myself  speaking  to  the 
church  or  society  through  you,  and  am  per- 
suaded in  you  they  will  find  a  tender,  steady, 
and  affectionate  friend.  I  told  you  in  my 
last,  I  found  my  mind  bend  towards  the  peo- 
ple, I  should  have  added  supposing  they  are 
unanimous  in  the  choice  of  a  pastor ;  for  nei- 
ther am  I  under  a  necessity  to  change  my 
present  sphere  from  any  distraction  in  it,  nor 
would  1  upon  any  consideration  be  the  means 
of  dividing  them,  nor  come  among  them,  if 
already  divided  among  themselves.  It  is  but 
reasonable  if  I  enter  into  a  pastoral  relation 
with  them,  that  they  should  know  what  I  am, 
and  what  I  wish  for,  in  order  to  be  happy  in 
that  relation.  I  am  a  Dissenter  upon  prin- 
ciple, though  but  a  young  one,  having  given 
the  preference  to  the  establishment  till  with- 
in these  two  years.  As  I  am  honest  to  my 
convictions,  so  I  am  moderate  in  my  conduct, 
presuming  that  neither  system  is  so  complete 
but  they  both  would  admit  of  an  amendment; 
and  as  an  evangelical  minister  in  either  com- 
munity would  wish  to  do  good,  he  can  no 
further  succeed  than  as  he  is  disposed  to 
throw  aside  such  rigour  and  austerity  as 
are  nowhere  countenanced  in  Scripture,  nor 
were  encouraged  by  the  apostle  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, or  the  Master  of  that  apostle.  A  com- 
pliance with  the  most  eligible  methods  for 
usefulness,  if  thereby  we  may  gain  some  to 
the  faith,  is  compatible  with  a  strict  regard 
to  the  word  of  God.  When  I  profess  myself  a 
Calvinist,  and  tell  you  that  I  preach  nothing 
repugnant  to  that  scheme  of  divinity,  you 
may  suppose  the  grand  and  leading  truths  of 
the  gospel  in  their  turn  are  sincerely,  though 
imperfectly  preached  by  me ;  nor  am  I  con- 
tent to  deliver  them  as  a  mere  system. 
Their  influences  felt  and  experienced  can 
only  render  them  beneficial ;  nor  can  they  be 
felt  but  as  they  are  preached,  in  a  practical 
experimental  manner,  in  the  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit  and  with  power.  Thus  to 
preach  is  my  endeavour,  and  to  come  short 
of  it  is  my  sorrow.  My  wish  in  the  first 
place,  is  to  be  useful  and  happy.  Something 
must  be  materially  wrong  when  a  man  can 
be  content  to  live  a  course  of  years  with  a 
people  in  the  sacred  relation  of  a  pastor,  re- 
gardless whether  his  people  thrive  or  prne 


away  under  him.  As  such  a  person  answers 
the  character  of  the  negligent  shepherds, 
Ezekiel  xxxiv.  3,  4.  his  doom  must  be  that  of 
the  careless  watchman  mentioned  in  the  fore- 
going chapter.  Usefulness  must  be  the  basis 
of  true  happiness :  the  minister  purchases  his 
happiness  at  a  dear  rate  who  suffers  his  peo- 
ple to  sleep  in  their  sins. — Secondly,  that  I 
may  have  a  discretionary  power  to  make  an 
excursion  from  home,  upon  condition  of  sub- 
stituting a  proper  supply.  Such  a  stipulation 
may  be  considered  by  some  a  weakness,  and 
subversive  of  the  end  of  the  pastoral  engage- 
ment ;  but  I  apprehend  this  must  arise  from 
prejudice  and  mistake.  Be  assured,  dear  sir, 
I  have  no  intention  to  subvert  the  end  of  a 
home  by  continually  being  abroad.  I  have 
more  than  ten  years  known  the  want  of  a 
retreat,  and  with  pleasure  anticipate  what 
Marlborough  may  (through  the  divine  bless- 
ing) afford.  Nevertheless  to  me  it  appears 
scriptural  to  blend  the  itinerant  with  the 
pastor,  so  far  as  the  former  does  not  prevent 
a  due  discharge  of  the  duties  of  the  latter; 
and  that,  under  proper  regulation,  it  is  profit- 
able both  to  minister  and  people,  is  evident 
by  comparing  the  prosperity  of  those  socie- 
ties that  encourage  it  with  those  that  disap- 
prove it. — Third,  that  my  stipend,  if  consist- 
ent with  the  circumstances  of  the  people,  may 
commence  at  j£40  per  annum,  and  if  pros- 
perity should  attend  our  union,  and  by  change 
of  condition  I  should  find  it  necessary,  I  may 
be  at  liberty  to  ask  no  more.  This  article 
being  well  thought  of  and  honourably  settled, 
will  become  a  rule  for  my  conduct  both  in 
domestic  economy,  and  in  the  pursuit  of  so- 
cial happiness.  I  am  well  aware  that  my 
subsistence  much  depends  upon  the  consist- 
ency of  my  deportment,  the  success  of  my 
ministry,  and  the  circumstances  and  disposi- 
tion of  the  people.  As  I  would  make  the 
glory  of  God  and  their  good  my  sole  aim,  1 
am  willing  to  rest  the  issue  upon  these  con- 
comitants. It  is  too  late  in  the  day  for  me  to 
begin  to  be  mercenary,  and  if  little  will 
suffice,  I  shall  not  think  of  asking  for  more. 
Hitherto  I  can,  through  grace,  accommodate 
the  saying  of  the  Apostle  to  my  own  con- 
duct '  We  seek  not  yours,  but  you.'  Having 
no  fortune  of  my  own,  makes  it  necessary  to 
propose,  fourthly,  that  I  may  have  the  dis- 
posal of  the  sacramental  alms.  My  own 
liberalities  cannot  be  large,  hitherto  they 
have  been  to  the  very  extent  of  my  circum- 
stances, nor  do  I  wish  to  curtail  them  by  this 
requisite.  In  market  towns  the  sick  poor  are 
generally  numerous,  and  the  alms  of  the  mi- 
nister accompanying  his  prayers,  do  much  to 
remove  prejudice  and  bring  them  under  the 
word.  These  are  the  principal  terms  of  set- 
tlement that  at  present  strike  me,  and  if 
reasonable  objection  can  be  made  against 
them,  I  shall  be  ingenuous  enough  to  yield 
to  them.    Neither  in  these  or  any  thing  else 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


99 


do  I  desire  to  lord  it  over  God's  heritage. 
[Should  a  connexion  take  place  between  us,  I 
trust  our  stipulation  will  not  be  that  of  mas- 
ter and  servants,  but  of  a  more  sacred  and 
fraternal  nature.  No  conditions  are  so  bind- 
ing as  those  arising  from  affection,  no  bonds 
so  lasting  as  those  made  up  of  the  unity  of 
the  Spirit.  My  brethren  will  do  well  to  re- 
member that  a  man,  and  not  an  angel,  is 
putting  himself  in  their  way  ;  a  man  subject 
to  like  passions,  surrounded  with  many  and 
great  temptations,  a  man  at  best  but  of 
very  slender  gifts,  and  of  a  small  degree  of 
grace,  who  needs  their  pity  and  prayers ;  and 
promises  not  to  seek  for  dominion  over  their 
faith,  but  to  strive  in  the  strength  of  divine 
grace,  to  be  the  helper  of  their  joy.  Should 
I  have  the  opportunity  to  approve  myself 
what  I  profess,  it  will  be  but  prudent  in  me 
to  remember  the  people  are  in  some  in- 
stances a  counterpart  of  myself,  and  will  re- 
quire the  exercise  of  those  graces  which  are 
opposite  to  the  dictates  and  inclinations  of 
our  corrupt  nature.  If  the  providence  of  God 
should  bring  us  together,  and  by  the  uniting 
of  our  affections  and  the  tenderness  of  our 
spirits  towards  each  other,  we  should  be  con- 
tinued together  any  time  on  earth,  I  trust  it 
will  be  the  matter  of  our  everlasting  rejoicing 
in  heaven.  With  my  kind  respects  to  your 
family,  and  christian  love  to  all  whom  these 
may  concern,  I  remain,  dear  sir,  &c." 


To  the  Church  under  his  care  at  Painswick, 
respecting  an  assistant. 

"  My  dear  brethren, — It  was  my  inten- 
tion long  since,  to  have  acknowledged  the 
address  communicated  to  me  by  Messrs. 
Wood  and  Horlick. — I  feel  myself  much 
obliged  for  the  acceptance  you,  and  others 
whose  names  are  not  added  to  the  address, 
have  given  to  the  sincere,  though  feeble  ser- 
vices I  have  rendered  you  by  the  ministry  of 
the  word,  and  by  other  endeavours  I  have 
exerted  for  the  cause  of  Christ  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood, for  full  seventeen  years. — I  am, 
blessed  be  God,  in  full  mental  capacity  for  the 
continuance  of  my  labours,  though  bodily 
strength  certainly  declines. — As  the  result,  I 
bend  under  the  weight  of  a  third  service  on 
the  Lord's -day. — This  is  a  service  by  no  mean- 
necessary  for  the  pious  part  of  the  congrega- 
tion.— I  at  first  established  and  have  continu- 
ed it  for  the  benefit  of  our  neighbours,  sup- 
posing if  they  are  inclined  to  hear,  God  may 
bless  the  word  to  them.  However  desirable 
assistance  may  have  been,  I  could  not  encou- 
rage the  hope  of  it,  not  having  it  in  my  power 
to  make  the  necessary  compensation  hitherto. 
Providence  having  been  graciously  pleased  to 
throw  the  property  of  my  late  friend  and  rela- 
tive into  my  hands,  I  thought  it  necessary 
from  the  acknowledgment  I  have  received  for 


my  labours,  to  make  it  practical  to  have  an 
assistant,  and  when  the  expenses  of  our  build- 
ing are  completely  defrayed,  to  support  him 
from  my  salary. — My  valued  friends  Messrs. 
 called  my  attention  to  .  I  am  in- 
formed his  service  does  not  meet  with  appro- 
bation sufficient  to  admit  of  a  hope  that  he 
may  constantly  take  part  in  the  ministry  with 
me. — I  shall  not  think  of  imposing  him  upon 
you.  As  soon  as  I  conveniently  can,  I  shall 
resign  him,  and  in  the  mean  while  as  God 
shall  enable  me,  will  persevere  in  my  ministry 
as  usual,  not  doubting  but  when  I  fail,  God 
will  provide  for  you. 

In  the  mean  while  I  beg  an  interest  in 
your  prayers,  and  exhort  you  to  pray  that 
in  due  time  the  great  Head  of  the  churcli 
may  meet  our  wishes,  if  he  see  it  fit  to  send 
me  help,  or  that  if  either  by  reason  of  weak- 
ness I  should  be  laid  aside,  or  be  removed  to 
my  rest,  the  man  after  his  own  heart  may  be 
the  overseer  of  you. — The  fragment  of  my 
days  and  strength,  shaJl,  in  the  strength  of 
divine  grace,  be  as  much  as  ever  devoted  to 
your  best  interest. — My  study  shall  be  the 
harmony,  the  prosperity,  the  comfort  and  im- 
provement of  the  church  and  congregation. — 
I  would  wish  to  be  as  an  affectionate  father 
among  his  children,  seeking  not  yours,  but 
you,  and  if  any  think  my  conduct  should  be 
contrary  to  this  protestation,  dn  its  being 
pointed  out,  I  will  endeavour  to  correct  it. 
May  we  all  remember  that  we  are  professedly 
the  followers  of  Jesus — he  was  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart,  and  among  his  disciples  as  one 
that  served ;  thus  by  copying  after  him,  may 
we  be  possessed  of  humbleness  of  mind,  of 
charity,  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness,  and 
in  every  respect  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation 
wherewith  we  are  called,  and  adorn  the  doc- 
trine of  God  our  Saviour  in  all  things. — I  ex- 
ceedingly lament  the  opposite  temper,  spirit, 
and  conduct  which  is  among  us,  and  am  so 
far  from  thinking  myself  free  from  blame, 
that  I  bewail  my  imperfections  before  God, 
and  am  sorry  that  in  any  instance  I  have 
given  offence.— But  he  who  knoweth  the 
heart,  can  discriminate  between  infirmity  that 
mixes  with  a  small  measure  of  zeal  for  his 
glory,  and  wilful  sin;  between  that  weakness 
of  nature  that  clogs  the  wheels  of  the  soul, 
and  that  sluggishness  which  is  indulged  with- 
out regard  to  divine  honour.  That  we  may 
walk  in  love,  and  live  in  the  mutual  exercise 
of  grace  one  towards  another,  and  altogether 
glorify  God  in  our  bodies  and  spirits  which  are 
his,  is,  and  shall  be,  the  prayer  of,  my  dear 
brethren,  yours,  affectionately,  in  our  dear 
Lord  Jesus. 

"  Hill  Farm,  Oct.  19,  1805." 


To  the  same,  when  confined  by  his  fracture. 

"  Mv  dear  people, — My  present  afflic- 
tion has  given  me  full  proof  of  that  concern 


100  MEMOIRS  OF 

of  which  I  never  harboured  a  doubt,  namely, 
your  affection  for  me ;  and  he  who  knoweth  all 
things,  knoweth  that  I  have  an  equal  share  for 
you.  We  can  mutually  bear  our  testimony  to 
the  reciprocal  attachment  between  the  shep- 
herd voluntarily  chosen,  and  the  flock,  the  care 
of  which  is  freely  accepted.  How  different  is 
such  a  connexion  from  that  of  a  minister  per- 
forming his  duty  officially  only,  and  a  people 
who  are  habituated  only  to  a  frigid  service.  My 
present  confinement  gives  me  opportunity  to 
review  my  past  life  and  labours  among  you, 
with  neither  of  which  I  am  so  fully  satisfied,  as 
to  be  entirely  quieted  from  the  censure  of  my 
own  heart.  Indeed  I  have  always  been  sensible 
that  you  had  a  claim  upon  me,  for  the  answer- 
ing of  which,  1  have  wanted  capacity,  rather 
than  inclination.  I  am  now,  by  the  providence 
of  God,  set  aside  from  service,  and  am  taught 
by  experience  to  sympathise  with,  and  pray 
for  those  who  are  the  subjects  of  affliction : 
but  I  believe  through  your  prayers  and  the 
supply  of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  that  which  is 
an  apparent  evil,  will  work  together  for  good. 
It  is  instructive  to  us  all,  and  is  a  sermon, 
which,  if  properly  improved,  is  as  efficacious 
as  any  that  could  be  preached  from  the  pulpit. 

"  I  set  out  from  the  house  of  our  venerable 
dying  friend  with  cautious  steps,  after  having 
prayed  that  we  might  all  be  prepared  for 
what  God  has  prepared  for  us ;  and  if  caution, 
independent  of  God  had  been  sufficient,  I  had 
not  fallen.  We  need  continually  to  recol- 
lect that  address  once  made  by  an  eminent 
saint,  in  these  words,  '  Hold  thou  me  up  and 
I  shall  be  safe.' 

"  There  is  a  material  difference  between 
falling  through  what  is  called  accident,  and 
falling  by  sin ;  from  the  former  we  are  not 
always  secure,  from  the  latter  we  may  be — 
through  him,  who  is  able  to  keep  us.  He 
does  keep  the  feet  of  the  saints,  and  his  grace 
is  sufficient  for  all  who  apply  to  him  for  it. 
A  disaster  tending  to  break  the  bones  of  any 
of  our  members,  is  nothing,  compared  with 
the  wound  a  soul  receives  by  a  fall  into  sin. 
In  the  former  case,  experience  teaches  me 
there  is  peace  and  quietness,  which  throbbing 
pain,  and  the  uneasiness  of  a  fixed  unusual 
posture  for  many  days,  cannot  interrupt;  in 
the  latter  is  an  experience,  that  I  pray  God 
we  may  all  be  strangers  to — of  doubt  and  dis- 
quietude, fear  and  trembling ;  a  heavy  scourge, 
and  hard  to  be  borne ;  and  which,  if  given  up 
to  hardness  of  heart,  does  but  prepare  us  for 
that  awful  state,  where  there  remaincth  no 
more  sacrifice  for  sin. 

"We  distinguish  between  the  backslider 
who  falls  to  rise,  who  returns  unto  the  Lord 
and  is  healed ;  and  the  backslider  in  heart, 
who  is  filled  with  his  own  ways.  But  if  we 
love  him  who  loved  us,  who  gave  himself  a 
sacrifice  for  us,  we  should  abhor  the  idea  of 
departing  from  him,  and  of  causing  his  Holy 
Spirit  to  depart  from  us.    Connected  with 


C.  WINTER. 

this  disposition  there  is  a  duty  inculcated 
upon  us.  It  is  watchfulness  and  prayer ;  of 
these  consist  the  Christian's  intrenchment, 
these  are  the  lines  our  enemy  cannot  break; 
be  the  person  who  uses  them  ever  so  weak, 
he  will  be  sure  to  stand ;  be  the  person  who 
neglects  them,  ever  so  strong  in  himself, 
ever  so  judiciously  taught,  or  ever  so  exten- 
sive in  his  knowledge,  he  is  liable  to  fall. — 
Honour  God  in  all  the  means  of  his  appoint- 
ment. Be  attentive  to  social  prayer ;  let  the 
time  when  most  suitable,  and  the  place  where 
it  may  be  most  convenient  to  be  carried  on, 
and  the  length  of  the  exercise  be  studied  for 
general  advantage.  Do  not  let  family  wor- 
ship and  the  catechising  of  children  be  neg- 
lected. Be  stated  and  regular  in  your  at- 
tendance upon  the  word.  In  this  latter  duty 
three  things  are  to  be  regarded,  the  informa- 
tion of  the  judgment,  the  raising  the  soul  to 
a  state  of  communion  with  God,  and  unim- 
peached  morality.  The  latter  is  by  the  apos- 
tle Peter,  denominated  'All  holy  conversa- 
tion.' In  this  perhaps,  we  are  too  deficient, 
and  therefore  subject  ourselves  to  mutual 
reflection,  and  prevent  gainsayers  from  re- 
ceiving the  force  of  the  word,  and  joining  in 
our  communion.  I  wish  my  own  ministry, 
as  long  as  I  am  continued  among  you,  may 
have  a  most  blessed  effect,  that  the  world  may 
have  no  evil  thing  to  say  of  you;  and  during 
the  time  of  the  suspension  of  my  ministry,  it 
shall  be  my  earnest  prayer,  that  the  occasional 
services  which  may  be  afforded  us,  may  be 
alike  effectual.  Our  beloved  brother  Mr. 
Bishop,  of  Gloucester,  has  most  kindly  en- 
gaged to  arrange  our  supplies,  and  as  they 
will  consist  of  the  whole  association,  I  should 
hope  no  one  will  consider  himself  under  a 
necessity  to  wander  from  home.  All  are  not 
alike  steady  in  their  attendance,  yet  the  ex- 
ception is  very  inconsiderable. 

"I  need  not  commend  myself  to  your 
prayers :  I  have  to  thank  you  already  for  my 
interest  in  them.  Cease  not  to  pray  that  I 
may  be  restored  to  you  again  if  it  be  the  will 
of  God ;  and  that  it  may  be  found  that  my 
affliction,  is  eventually,  your  consolation.  It 
is  but  a  little  while  at  longest  I  can  expect  to 
be  with  you :  as  long  as  it  may  be,  O !  let  it 
prove  for  '  your  furtherance  and  joy  of  faith ;' 
'  Only  let  your  conversation  be,  as  becometh 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  that  whether  I  come  to 
see  you,  or  else  be  absent,  I  may  hear  of  your 
affairs ;  that  ye  stand  fast  in  one  spirit,  with 
one  mind,  striving  together  for  the  faith  of 
the  gospel.'  For  that  which  is  inconsistent 
with  the  pure  principles  referred  to  by  the 
apostle,  as  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  will  be- 
wilder our  judgment,  invalidate  the  precious 
Saviour  in  our  esteem,  and  raise  in  us  a  self- 
importance,  which  the  Lord  approveth  not; 
it  will  lead  us  into  the  mistake  of  substituting 
tinsel  for  gold,  and  of  placing  unallowed 
merit  in  morality.    I  inculcate  morality  upon 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


101 


you,  with  all  my  powers,  but  then  it  is  as  the 
fruit  of  a  tree  made  good.  The  morality  I 
would  largely  inculcate,  extends  to  every 
relation,  and  to  every  avocation  of  life, 
that  the  enemies  to  the  truth  of  the  gospel 
may  have  no  evil  tiling  to  say  of  you,  but 
otherwise  they  may  see  you  have  your  fruit 
out  of  holiness,  as  you  expect  the  end  will 
be  everlasting  life.  Under  the  influence  of 
grace  that  enables  you  so  to  live  and  act,  you 
will  be  at  an  entire  distance  from  the  spirit 
of  the  age ;  its  vanities  will  not  be  able  to 
fasten  upon  you  in  a  way  of  attraction,  you 
will  keep  yourself  unspotted  from  the  world, 
find  true  joys  in  religion,  and  your  time  will 
be  fully  occupied  between  its  duties  and 
the  avocations  of  life.  You  will  not  with- 
draw from  society,  nor  insult  it  by  morose- 
ness.  You  will  observe  due  decorum,  be 
courteous  towards  all  men,  and  by  supporting 
the  consistency  of  your  character,  you  will 
be  well  understood  by  men  who  cannot  dive 
into  your  views,  yet  will  sooner  or  later  ad- 
mire in  you,  what  they  themselves  cannot 
immediately  drop  into :  by  your  good  conver- 
sation which  they  shall  behold,  they  may  be 
awakened  and  won,  and  perceiving  that  God 
is  with  us  of  a  truth,  the  day  of  their  visita- 
tion may  be  drawn  on,  in  which  they  also 
may  glorify  God.  But  whither  am  I  going  1 
Without  prudent  caution  into  the  length  of  a 
sermon,  and  far  exceeding  the  limits  of  a  let- 
ter. I  hope  again  to  address  you  by  an 
amanuensis,  till  I  be  restored  to  see  you  face 
to  face,  in  the  re-assumption  of  my  pulpit  ex- 
ercises. Till  then,  and  for  ever,  I  am,  your 
faithful  and  affectionate  minister,  and  friend 
in  the  bonds  of  the  everlasting  gospel." 


To  the  same. 

"My  ever  dear,  and  highly  beloved 
people, — Nearly  a  week  has  elapsed  since 
my  address  to  you,  in  which  time  I  am 
brought  under  increasing  obligation  to  love 
you,  and  to  thank  you  for  the  early  attention 
you  have  manifested  to  my  necessities,  which 
your  tender  care  led  you  to  conceive  would  be 
considerable  by  the  affliction  I  am  exercised 
with.  It  would  be  sinful  secrecy  that  would 
prevent  me  now  from  saying,  I  have  all  things 
and  abound.  The  supply  of  my  wants  is 
ample,  while  you  continue  in  prayer  for  me 
that  I  may  be  restored  unto  you  with  an  in- 
crease of  spirituality  and  zeal ;  and  that  I 
may  adopt  the  most  effectual  methods  to  be 
communicative  while  I  receive  your  commu- 
nications, is  a  part  of  my  prayers  which  I 
offer  frequently  upon  the  bed,  to  which  I  ap- 
prehend I  must  submit  to  be  long  confined. 
My  joy  in  part  is,  that  I  have  a  list  amply 
filled  of  brethren,  who  make  their  free-will 
offerings  to  serve  you  in  the  ministry  till  I 
am  restored  unto  you  again.  You  may  dis- 
9* 


arm  yourselves  of  suspicion  that  any  thing 
will  be  advanced  by  them  but  the  pure  un- 
adulterated gospel  of  Christ — may  every  ser- 
mon be  impressed  upon  your  souls,  and  while 
faith  and  practice  are  inculcated  upon  you, 
may  you  unanimously  say,  All  that  the  Lord 
speaketh  unto  us  by  his  servants,  that,  in  the 
strength  of  his  grace,  will  we  do.  If  I  say, 
take  heed  how  you  hear,  it  is  to  exhort  you 
not  to  be  hearers  only,  but  doers  of  the 
word.  Pray  to  the  Father  of  Lights  that  he 
may  make  you  the  children  of  the  light  and 
of  the  day ;  that  under  the  guidance  of  his 
Holy  Spirit  you  may  be  led  fully  and  deeply 
into  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  that  you 
may  support  your  characters  by  walking  as 
the  sons  of  God,  unreproveable  and  unrebuke- 
able  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse 
generation.  You  will  then  live  under  the 
banner  of  his  fatherly  protection,  who,  though 
he  may  not  suffer  you  to  escape  affliction, 
will  support  you  under  it,  at  whatever  time  it 
is  his  pleasure  you  should  be  exercised  there- 
by; and  make  the  bitters  of  your  cup  sub- 
servient to  the  health  of  your  souls,  and  pre- 
paratory of  eternal  glory. — Determine  by 
divine  grace  to  be  nothing  short  of  what  you 
should  be;  answer  to  the  character  of  Is- 
raelites indeed,  in  whom  there  is  no  guile — 
be  continual  in  your  application  to  the  pre- 
cious Saviour,  from  whose  fulness  you  may 
always  be  supplied  with  grace ;  and  in  virtue 
of  his  communications  you  may  make  your 
boast — '  In  the  Lord  have  I  righteousness  and 
strength.'  Observe  all  his  ordinances,  and 
come  into  that  contact  with  each  other,  that 
will  dispose  you  to  form  a  communion  which 
will  distinguish  you  as  members  of  the 
church,  as  well  as  general  hearers  of  the 
word.  How  glad  shall  I  be  to  see  you  all 
disposed  to  join  yourselves  to  the  Lord,  and 
to  be  found  at  that  sacred  table  where  there 
is  meat  to  be  received,  the  world  knows  no- 
thing of.  I  am  more  and  more  impressed 
with  a  conviction  that  the  ordinance  of  the 
sacred  supper  is  neglected  by  many  of  you, 
who,  I  am  persuaded  have  a  title  to  it, 
through  him  who  receiveth  sinners  upon 
the  terms  of  free  grace,  and  inviteth  them  to 
come  without  money  and  without  price.  I 
hope  our  brethren  who  constitute  an  organ- 
ized church  in  this  place,  will  not  make  the 
door  of  admission  narrower  than  that  which 
is  referred  to  in  this  language,  'Behold  I 
have  set  before  you  an  open  door.'  It  is  sad 
that  such  a  door  should  remain  open,  and  so 
few  be  disposed  to  enter.  But  I  find  I  must 
desist. 

"That  God's  blessing  may  be  upon  all 
our  attempts  wherein  his  glory  is  concerned, 
that  all  our  comforts  and  all  our  crosses  may 
be  alike  sanctified,  that  we  whose  union  is  so 
close,  and  who  meet  together  for  public  wor- 
ship upon  earth,  may  at  last  meet  in  glory,  is 
the  prayer  of,  my  dear  friends,  &c." 


102 


MEMOIRS  OP  C.  WINTER. 


To  H  E  s,  Esq. 

"  Honoured  and  vert  dear  sir, — Yester- 
day I  had  the  pleasure  of  dear  Mrs.  E  

for  an  auditor.  I  sent  one  of  my  pupils  for 
her  on  a  double  horse,  and,  with  Mrs.  Win- 
ter, escorted  her  home  in  the  evening1,  to 
your  most  pleasant  and  comfortable  mansion, 
where  we  have  each  laid  down  in  peace  and 
slept  and  risen  again,  because  the  Lord  lias 
made  us  dwell  in  safety.  I  hope  your 
journey  has  been  pleasant  and  prosperous, 
and  that  with  a  mind  staid  upon  God,  you  are 
waiting  the  providential  opportunity  to  re- 
turn, determined  to  be  happy.  Should  not 
the  toil  be  entirely  unloosed  at  once,  let  the 
idea  that  it  will  be  one  day  or  another,  keep 
you  patient;  and  though  litigation  may  be 
settled  with  loss,  let  the  consideration  that  it 
is  but  a  partial  loss,  reconcile  your  mind  to 
it.  Revolve  in  your  own  mind  the  comforts 
remaining,  and  give  to  God  the  sacrifice  of 
praise.  I  know  I  am  but  expressing  your 
own  sentiment,  when  I  say  your  obligations 
to  God  are  not  the  less  because  your  property 
is  paternal.  By  reflection  and  expression  of 
gratitude,  the  mind  may  be  advanced  to  an 
amazing  pitch,  and  without  some  effort  of 
this  nature,  we  may  possess  the  Indies  with- 
out enjoying  a  mite  of  our  possession.    If  to 

so  valuable  and  dear  friend  as  Mr.  E  s,  I 

mention  any  thing  of  my  own  frame  and  con- 
duct, it  is  solely  with  a  view  to  set  him  upon 
the  same  successful  expedient  of  acquiring 
present  tranquillity  of  mind.  I  would  look 
not  at  what  I  want,  but  at  what  I  have.  I 
would  reflect  not  how  great  are  my  trials  in 
life,  but  how  much  greater  than  they  are, 
they  might  be.  I  have  but  a  little  while  to  be 
here,  and  why  should  I  not  enjoy  myself  on 
my  journey  ?  If  the  way  is  rugged  the  end 
will  compensate;  and  keeping  it  in  view,  I 
reckon  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory 
that  is  to  be  revealed.  These  I  frankly  ac- 
knowledge, not  from  ostentation,  or  as  con- 
ceiving they  are  in  me  a  merit,  or  that  by  my 
own  power  I  thus  act,  but  to  emplify  what 
advantage  you  in  your  easy  circumstances 
may  live  under.  Next  to  God  and  Christ, 
love  yourself,  nourish  and  cherish  your  own 
flesh,  by  which  I  mean,  make  'every  rational 
and  scriptural  exertion  to  enjoy  what  God 
has  graciously  given  you ;  and  in  order  to 
this,  first  study  the  peace  of  your  mind,  and 
then  the  most  probable  means  to  restore  and 
preserve  the  health  of  your  body.  In  mat- 
ters of  religion  use  your  judgment,  and  re- 
duce it  to  practice.  Rely  upon  the  Saviour 
for  pardon,  look  to  him  for  peace,  and  honour 
his  commands  and  appointments  in  evidence 
that  you  love  him.  Pray  for  grace  and 
strength,  and  he  will  make  you  equal  to  all 
that  exertion  which  is  expected  from  the 
man  and  the  Christian.    See,  dear  sir,  how 


soon  I  catch  at  your  permission  to  drop  you  a 
line,  and  by  my  didactical  strain,  what  liberty 
I  take  from  it.  I  know  you  will  pardon  my 
freedom,  and  accept  my  intention  as  a  pep- 
per-corn of  gratitude  for  the  innumerable  in- 
stances of  your  long  and  steady  friendship, 
which  as  I  most  highly  esteem  for  its  own 
sake,  rather  than  for  the  repeated  pledges  of 
it,  1  hope  I  shall  never  by  imprudence,  as  I 
am  sure  I  shall  never  with  intention,  forfeit. 
Mrs.  E  desires  that  my  pen  may  commu- 
nicate her  kindest  love,  and  is  pleased  to  re- 
quire me  to  add,  she  wishes  you  joy  of  your 
correspondence. — I  am,  &c." 


To  Mrs.  B  r. 

"  My  dear  madam, — I  have  not  forgotten 
you,  though  I  have  not  before  communicated 
to  you  the  pleasure  I  feel  on  hearing  of  the 
mercy  you  obtained  by  a  safe  birth.  As  for 
this  blessing  I  bore  you  on  my  heart  in  pray- 
er, so  your  deliverance  has  excited  my  warm- 
est praise.  I  hope  continual  mercy  attends 
you,  and  that  you  are  kept  in  the  delightful 
exercise  of  thanksgiving,  stimulated  by  in- 
creasing favours  peculiar  to  your  situation. 
I  shall  be  thankful  when  I  have  an  opportu- 
nity given  me  to  magnify  the  Lord,  together 
with  you.  At  present  I  am  detained  from 
home  to  acquire  all  I  can  for  the  purpose  of 
preventing  debt  being  contracted,  or  of 
making  it  as  light  as  possible.  Till  lately  I 
have  heard  nothing  from  our  committee,  but 
I  find  my  disappointment  has  been  partly 
owing  to  my  frequent  and  uncertain  move- 
ments. I  compare  myself  to  a  man  worn  out 
with  repeated  shocks  of  electricity,  and  there- 
fore would  avoid  a  future  one  if  he  could. 
But  if  I  add  to  the  sum  already  acquired,  I 
must  undergo  shock  upon  shock  yet.  My 
journies,  though  trying  from  being  obliged  to 
appear  before  strangers  as  a  mendicant,  have 
been  attended  with  many  mercies.  I  have 
been  providentially  directed  unto  many  quar- 
ters where  friendship  has  displayed  itself; 
and  it  has  been  thought  a  kind  Providence 
that  has  given  occasion  to  an  interview  hardly 
expected  on  this  side  the  grave.  I  have  seen 
the  grace  of  God  in  many  of  the  churches  of 
the  saints,  and  have  been  made  glad  by  the 
evidence  that  God  has  not  left  his  people  des- 
titute of  his  mercy  and  truth.  In  our  quar- 
ter I  trust  these  divine  properties  are  con- 
spicuous. May  you  have  abundant  proof  of 
the  faithfulness"  of  God,  to  the  promises  upon 
which  you  are  caused  to  hope.  Your  new 
relation  gives  a  turn  to  your  attention,  and  a 
fresh  channel  is  now  open  for  your  affections 
to  flow  in.  May  the  dear  infant  graciously 
given  to  you  be  continued,  and  parental  care 
be  attended  with  divine  blessing  from  God, 
that  you  may  rear  into  maturity  the  tender 
plant,  and  have  your  present  care  rewarded 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


103 


with  future  comfort.  Attention  to  the  dear 
child  will  not  divert  you  from  the  Father  of 
your  mercies.  You  are  now  as  ever,  I  am 
persuaded,  open  to  divine  communication,  and 
are  frequently  turning  to  heaven  and  eter- 
nal glory,  as  to  the  ultimate  of  all  enjoy- 
ments. When  providentially  detained  from 
those  public  ordinances,  which  have  been  and 
are  your  delight,  by  the  attention  your  infant 
charge  may  claim,  may  the  sacred  Scriptures 
open  to  you  in  your  retirement,  and  through 
them,  as  the  grand  medium  of  conveyance, 
may  the  living  water  flow  to  your  refresh- 
ment. With  Jesus  is  an  infinite  source,  and 
the  streams  run  from  him  in  all  directions, 
that  they  may  follow  after,  and  meet  the  sub- 
jects of  his  love  in  whatever  situation  the 
providence  of  God  may  place  them.  When 
he  by  his  Spirit  excites  a  thirst  in  our  souls, 
by  that  same  Spirit  he  will  dispose  us  to  look 
for  that  supply  he  only  has  to  impart,  and  we 
shall  experience  that  with  him  is  the  foun- 
tain of  life.  If  we  abide  by  him,  we. shall  be 
sure  to  be  well  supplied,  but  if  we  leave  him 
for  cisterns,  disappointment  will  be  the  con- 
sequence. Wherever  I  go  I  find  they  are 
the  happiest,  who  make  much  of  their  Sa- 
viour. He  honours  the  confidence  of  his  peo- 
ple, and  whatever  he  promises  he  will  give ; 
none  ever  trusted  in  him  and  were  disap- 
pointed.— On  Monday  evening  I  had  a  short 

interview  with  Mrs.  W         from  whom  I 

learned  the  state  of  your  family.  I  hope  all 
the  afflictions  with  which  it  may  be  exercised 

will  prove  blessings.  I  supposed  Mrs.  B  's 

health  had  acquired  stability,  and  was  sur- 
prised to  hear  that  it  had  been  so  seriously 

attacked  again.    Mr.  B  I  find  is  hardly 

strong  enough  for  a  soldier.  I  hope  he  never 
will  be  called  to  take  the  field.  If  an  invalid, 
he  had  better  consult  his  constitution,  than 
stand  upon  a  point  of  honour;  and  nurse  him- 
self, rather  than  hazard  himself  to  weathers 
which  might  endanger  a  life  too  valuable  to 
be  sacrificed  by  neglect.  I  hope  he  will  ac- 
cept my  warmest  salutations,  and  that  he  will 
consider  himself  a  sharer  with  you  in  the 
congratulation,  which  I  tender  on  the  birth 
and  continuance  of  the  dear  child  ;  and  if  my 
prayers  have  efficacy  enough  to  prevail,  he 
with  you  will  have  days  long  upon  earth,  and 
at  the  end  of  them  an  abundant  entrance  mi- 
nistered into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  Thither  two 
valuable  ministers  have  gained  admission, 
whose  usefulness  I  supposed  might  have  been 
continued  for  years  to  come.  I  expect  Mr. 
Newton  will  soon  be  on  the  list  of  the  glori- 
fied :  I  had  a  most  satisfactory  interview  with 
him  yesterday  morning.  I  wish  I  could  give 
his  conversation,  his  family  exposition,  and 
prayer,  upon  paper;  but  I  must  reserve  the 
recital  for  our  meeting,  if  God  permit.  Ac- 
cept in  the  mean  while,  these  incoherent 
lines  as  they  are  directed,  with  a  design  to 


assure  you,  that  I  am,  dear  madam,  yours, 
&c.  London,  Nov.  23,  1803." 

"  I  have  opened  my  letter  on  purpose  to  beg 

you  to  present  my  best  respects  to  Mr.  B  

B  .    I  think  of  him  often.    I  detained 

this  letter  the  longer  in  hope  of  meeting  with 
a  frank.  I  cannot  bear  to  put  my  friends  to 
the  expense  of  postage,  if  it  be  possible  to 
avoid  it;  but  an  unwillingness  to  appear  to 
neglect  when  I  really  do  not  intend  it,  makes 
me  send  this  through  the  common  medium. 


To  Mr.  W  n. 

"My  ever  and  very  dear  sir, — Having 
at  an  early  hour  consecrated  myself  unto 
God,  a  part  of  that  time  which  he  has  gra- 
ciously continued  unto  me,  I  dedicate  in  at- 
tention to  you.    In  the  course  of  my  long 
absence  you  have  often  been  in  my  thoughts, 
nor  have  you  been  excluded  from  my  prayers. 
I  am  happy  in  the  occasion  now  given  me  to 
address  you,  and  wish  any  thing  that  may 
drop  from  my  pen  may  be  refreshing  to  you. 
I  have  attended  to  the  prime  object  of  your 
letter,  and  applied  to  a  person  who  I  think, 
if  he  can  be  procured,  would  answer  Mr. 
J — 's  description.    In  a  day  or  two  I  shall 
know  his  mind.    It  is  probable,  while  I  am 
throwing  a  few  lines  together,  you  are  toss- 
ing upon  the  sea  ;  but  I  trust  it  is  under  the 
protection  of  Him  who  gives  the  waves  their 
fury,  who  agitates  the  sea  when  it  roars  and 
is  tempestuous,  and  who  has  power  at  any 
time  to  reduce  into  a  calm,  and  make  its  sur- 
face as  smooth  as  a  looking-glass.    He  has 
not  only  power  over  the  sea  to  control  it,  but 
also  over  the  passions  and  principles  of  wicked 
and  unreasonable  men,  of  which  the  raging 
waves  are  a  true  emblem.    We  have,  as  a 
people,  to  do  with  such,  and  whether  they 
may  have  power  to  act  against  us  at  all,  or 
with  what  degree  of  success,  is  uncertain. 
Numbers  are  interceding  with  heaven,  and 
pleading,  '  Spare  thy  people,  O  Lord.' — May 
he  in  answer  to  prayer,  raise  a  bulwark  con- 
sisting of  stronger  materials  than  earth  can 
produce,  and  then  all  the  precautions  we  may 
take  will  be  serviceable  and  successful ;  but 
if  salvation  be  not  of  the  Lord,  vain  is  the 
wisdom,  the  foresight,  and  the  help  of  man. 
Our  discouragement  arises  from  our  national 
sins,  which  may  deservedly  cause  the  Lord's 
ear  to  be  heavy  that  it  will  not  hear,  and 
should  it  be  the  case  that  the  overflowing 
scourge  should  pass  through  the  land,  we 
who,  through  grace,  are  not  partakers  of  her 
evil  deeds,  shall  find  support  under  the  judg- 
ments which  may  be  abroad  in  the  earth,  and 
shall  be  safe  in  those  chambers  which  our  co- 
venant God  may  provide  for  his  people.  We 
must  not  expect  our  exemption  from,  but  we 
may  expect  supports  in  trouble.    An  interest 
in  his  lovingkindness  will  secure  to  us  the 


104 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


interposition  of  his  providential  goodness  on 
our  behalf  What  his  word  records  relative 
to  this  point,  may  you,  my  dear  sir,  have  an 
enlarged  and  continual  experience  of,  and 
thus  have  authority  to  say  to  all  around  you, 
'  O  taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  good,  blessed 
is  the  man  that  trusteth  in  him.'  If  I  call 
your  attention  to  myself,  I  must  say,  with  re- 
spect to  the  business  I  have  in  hand,  I  have 
been  wonderfully  led.  I  did  not  know  for 
some  time  before  I  set  out,  what  course  to 
take ;  but  I  found  my  mind  calm  while  my 
prospects  were  clouded.  I  was  preparing  for 
another  journey  at  the  instant  that  a  letter 
foreign  to  my  business,  required  me  to  come 
to  London,  and  I  scarcely  entered  upon  my 
application,  when  I  was  pressed  into  the  east- 
ern part  of  the  kingdom.  In  different  places 
my  ministry  has  met  with  a  kind  reception, 
and  my  applications,  which,  as  I  expected 
would  be  the  case,  though  they  have  clashed 
with  many  others,  have  not  been  repulsed. 
Particular  sums  are  small,  but  in  the  aggre- 
gate they  amount  to  more  than  ,  which 

I  would  fain  bring  to  before  I  return,  nor 

need  I  fear  of  success ;  but  I  find  myself  very 
inadequate  to  the  fatigue  of  soliciting  from 
house  to  house,  and  the  damp  and  rainy  wea- 
ther has  a  very  serious  effect  upon  my  frame. 
It  brings  spasms  in  my  stomach  and  limbs, 
and  I  find  precautions  necessary,  lest  I  lay 
myself  up.  The  mercies  attendant  on  this 
journey  have  been  innumerable ;  but  they 
have  not  exempted  me  from  a  considerable 
degree  of  self-denial.  There  is  no  possibility 
of  advancing  in  the  Christian  ministry,  and  of 
performing  the  several  duties  connected  with 
it,  without  it,  especially  in  that  department 
of  the  church  where  I  am  in  providence 
fixed.  Mine  through  life  has  been  up-hill 
work,  and  the  whisper  in  my  ear  has  been, 
'  Do  all  things  without  murmuring.' 

"  I  would  copy  the  obedience  of  Christ,  of 
whom  it  is  significantly  remarked,  that  '  He 
pleased  not  himself,'  and  therefore  when  re- 
quired, would  give  up  the  luxury  of  retire- 
ment to  mix  with  the  crowd,  and  those  im- 
provements which  I  am  coveting  after,  that  I 
may  impart  from  the  inconsiderable  stock  of 
knowledge  God  has  graciously  given  to  me. 
I  feel  mortified  in  being  the  beggar,  and  my 
pride  is  often  humbled  by  unbecoming  re- 
pulse, and  by  the  ungracious  manner  in  which 
some  grant  the  request  of  my  lips.  But  as 
in  this  way  I  am,  pro  tempore,  called  to  glo- 
rify God,  I  yield  to  the  mortification,  and  con- 
trast to  it  the  suavity  with  which  my  dear 
Mr.  W  n,  and  a  few  others  who  are  kin- 
dred souls,  give  treble  consequence  to  their 
benevolence.  It  is  not  the  minister's  lot  only 
to  be  mortified.  You,  my  dear  sir,  have  the 
bitter  ingredient  of  mortification  in  the  cup 
of  life.  A  part  of  it,  I  am  persuaded,  consists 
in  your  being  obliged  to  leave  your  conse- 
crated and  tranquil  home  to  mix  witli  the 


different  tempers  of  the  passengers  in  a  ves- 
sel. Mix  I  should  not  say.  It  is  one  thing  to 
accommodate  ourselves  to  company  we  cannot 
avoid,  and  to  pass  the  ceremony  of  civility, 
another  to  unite.  Light  and  darkness  are  as 
distinct  in  the  spiritual  as  in  the  natural 
world  ;  and  the  question  what  fellowship  hath 
the  former  with  the  latter,  amounts  to  a  strong 
negation,  none  at  all.  Blessed  be  God  that 
you  are  the  child  of  the  light  and  of  the  day. 
I  need  not  say  walk  as  the  child  of  the  light. 
May  your  steps  be  exactly  followed  by  those 
who  profess  to  be  in  the  same  communion, 
and  never  deviate  in  their  conformity  to  you, 
in  the  vessel,  in  the  dwelling,  in  the  count- 
ing-house, and  in  the  church  ;  then  they  will 
prove  that  •  they  are  a  part  of  the  remnant 
which  is  according  to  the  election  of  grace, 
and  such  of  them  as  are  wise  and  discreet 
ministers  will  never  make  that  a  stone  of 
stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  offence  which  God 
puts  in  the  way  of  his  people,  as  a  prevention 
against  boasting,  and  as  an  incentive  to  give 
all  the  glory  of  their  salvation  to  him.  Such 

a  minister  I  hope  the  vacant  pulpit  at  S  

M  will  one  day  be  filled  with.  Excuse, 

my  very  dear  sir,  the  paper  and  the  imperfec- 
tion, both  of  the  writing  and  of  the  subject. 
My  prayers  will  ever  be  offered  up  for  you. 
My  warmest  wishes  attend  you  for  the  suc- 
cess of  your  voyage.  My  heart's  desire  is, 
that  I  may  see  you  safe  in  Stroud,  and  that, 
by  the  grasp  of  my  hand,  as  well  as  by  the 
strokes  of  my  pen,  I  may  be  permitted  to 
express  myself,  yours,  affectionately,  &c. 
"  JVo.  30,  Gracechurch-street,  London. 
Nov.  30, 1803." 


To  Mrs.  H—gs. 

"  My  dear  bereaved  friend, — I  cannot 
say  how  sorry  I  am  for  your  very  great,  loss, 
and  for  the  clear  children  who  share  with  you 
in  it.  It  seems  to  me  now  as  though  the  stay 
of  my  friendship  is  by  this  providence  broke 
in  Bristol,  and  though  it  is  an  event  common 
to  man,  and  what  I  have  been  very  familiar 
with,  yet  every  fresh  instance  awakens  sur- 
prise, and  for  a  while  swallows  up  a  recollec- 
tion of  what  is  past.  I  was  in  hope  of  re- 
ceiving better  news,  though  I  feared  that 
which  I  yesterday  received  would  come.  On 
Sabbath  day  I  said  it  was  probable  we  should 

have  Mr.  H  with  us  for  change  of  air. 

It  is  otherwise  ordered,  and  permit  me  to 
say,  well  ordered,  by  him  who  can  do  nothing 
wrong.  The  air  is  changed,  and  a  blessed 
exchange  it  is  to  him  who  is  gone  to  a  region 
where  the  inhabitants  have  no  sickness  to 
endanger  them,  and  no  maladies  to  complain 
of.  The  nerves  are  braced  to  their  proper 
tone,  and  all  is  well,  eternally  well.  Do  not 
you,  my  dear  friend,  repine  at  the  providence, 
but  trust  the  promise  of  which,  till  now,  you 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


105 


were  not  the  subject.    You  who  were  a  few 
days  since  the  wife  of"  youth,  are  now  a  wo- 
man forsaken  and  grieved  in  spirit ;  but  com- 
fort will  take  place  of  grief  after  nature  has 
had  her  full  vent,  if  you  can  but  turn  to  the 
widow's  God  and  receive  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  the  God  of  the 
whole  earth,  in  the  near  relation  in  which  he 
condescends  to  describe  himself  in  the  fifty- 
fourth  chapter  of  Isaiah.    To  prevent  your 
fear  and  inspire  your  confidence,  treasure  up 
in  your  mind  a  recollection  of  the  divine  de- 
scription, '  A  Father  of  the  fatherless,  and 
a  Judge  of  the  widow  is  God  in  his  holy  ha- 
bitation,' who  amidst  the  difficulties  and  the 
sorrows  and  dangers  with  which  life  is  at- 
tended, preserveth  the  fatherless  and  the 
widow,  and  relieveth  them  out  of  every  dis- 
tress.   You  are  left  in  merciful,  though  not 
in  affluent  circumstances.    May  it  please 
God  to  spare  your  good  and  kind  father  to 
you,  till  you  are  capable  of  acting  more  in- 
dependent of  aid  than  you  can  just  at  present. 
Be  the  widow  indeed,  trust  in  God,  and  con- 
tinue in  prayer  night  and  day.    Let  a  proper 
attention  be  paid  to  the  education  of  the  dear 
children,  and  let  it  be  exact  and  solid  so  far 
as  it  goes,  rather  than  so  extensive  and  pro- 
fuse as  to  spoil  them  for  an  early  admission 
into  active  life,  and  to  unfit  them  for  the 
ordinary  duties  of  it.    You  may  receive  ge- 
neral advice  from  your  friends  upon  this  head, 
as  well  upon  what  respects  yourself,  but 
Providence  will  unfold  his  own  purposes. 
While  you  lie  in  a  dependence  upon  the  oar, 
waiting  for  his  commission,  he  will  notice  you 
according  to  the  appointed  time. — Whatever 
difficulties  there  are  before  us  there  are  none 
before  God ;  and  therefore  in  a  way  and  manner 
that  never  could  be  thought  of,  he  has  reared 
up  into,  and  carried  through  life,  thousands 
and  thousands,  whose  afflictions  have  far  ex- 
ceeded yours.    Let  us  with  all  the  attention 
we  pay  to  the  duties  incumbent  upon  us,  pre- 
pare for  our  own  dismission ;  we  are  soon  to 
follow  those  who  have  preceded,  perhaps  very 
soon.  O  that  we  may  live  in  the  habitual  exer- 
cise of  grace,  and  being  found  in  Jesus  Christ, 
may  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  yield  up  ourselves 
when  the  summons  shall  be  sent  for  us.  Our 
attachments  to  this  mortal  state  are  loosened 
by  our  friends  being  removed  before  us. 
Their  continuance  is  not  so  essential  to  us  as 
we  are  apt  to  imagine,  and  therefore  do  not 
let  us  grudge  them  their  escape.    But  with 
a  becoming  resignation  yield  to  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  divine  conduct,  and  be  thank- 
ful for  the  satisfactory  evidence  we  receive 
from  their  expiring  breath,  that  they  had  firm 
footing  for  their  feet  when  earth  receded 
from  them.    I  am  thankful  for  my  dear  friend, 
that  it  was  the  case  with  him.    I  hope  that 
you,  from  a  reaction  upon  this  instance  of 
the  Lord's  indulgence  to  him,  are  freely  re- 
signing him,  and  that  living  upon  the  pro- 
O 


mise  to  which  we  have  reference,  and  pre- 
pared for  all  future  providences,  you  will  be 
a  follower  of  him,  and  all  who  through  faith 
and  patience  are  numbered  with  the  saints 

in  light.    Mrs.  W         is,  with  me,  much 

affected  with  the  news,  and  concerned  for  it; 
she  unites  in  tender  sympathetic  affection. 
If  a  journey  hither  be  practicable,  and  it 
would  conduce  to  the  refreshment  of  your 
spirits,  we  should  be  exceedingly  glad  to  see 
you.    Let  us  hear  in  some  little  time  how 

you  do.    Our  love  to  Mrs.  H  if  she  is 

capable  of  receiving  it.  It  may  be  well  that 
her  feelings  upon  this  occasion  are  capable 
of  diversion.  I  am  pleased  to  hear  the  dear 
children  have  so  much  sensibility.  I  hope 
you  will  have  them  under  command,  and 
receive  uninterrupted  expressions  of  endear- 
ing duty  from  them.  Though  not  without 
our  complaints,  we  have  reason  to  be  thank- 
ful it  is  so  well  with  us.  But  we  feel  our 
mortality,  and  trust  we  are  preparing  for  our 

immortality.    I  have  not  wrote  to  Mrs.  

yet,  but  I  think  I  shall  take  the  advantage 
of  this  providence,  as  it  will  furnish  me  with 
serious  matter.    I  beg  to  be  remembered 

kindly  to  Mr.  S         and  Mrs.  H  and 

the  young  gentleman,  and  remain,  my  dear 
bereaved  friend,  your  much  affected,  die. 
"  Painswick,  July  13,  1792." 


To  J.  L  e,  Esq. 

"  My  very  dear  sir, — Had  it  been  the 
case  that  before  the  summer  had  closed  we 
had  been  favoured  with  your  company,  I  should 
have  numbered  it  with  the  blessings  of  the 
year.  I  have  blessings  in  abundance  for 
which  to  be  thankful,  yet  not  unconnected 
with  trials  which  have  chequered  them ;  yet 
of  these  would  I  not  complain ;  they  are  bless- 
ings, though  in  their  present  form,  nature  re- 
coils at  them.  The  great  cause  of  complaint 
is  in  myself.  I  cannot  do  the  things  that 
I  would.  Barrenness  restrains  ideas;  and 
when  they  rise,  the  poverty  of  them  makes 
me  groan.  I  am  obliged  to  labour  hard  for  a 
little,  and  am  often  busy  in  doing  nothing. 
The  occurrences  of  the  day  engross  my  time, 
and  break  in  upon  my  plans,  so  that  I  am  al- 
ways behind  hand  in  what  I  propose.  How 
must  this  appear  to  you,  who  amidst  your  im- 
portant avocations  and  severer  studies,  can 
find  leisure  and  strength  for  the  study  of  di- 
vinity, and  can  produce  meditations  for  length 
and  depth  of  thought  such  as  I  am  favoured 
with  1  I  hope  to  have  more  in  addition  to 
those  I  have  already,  as  your  leisure  will 
allow  of  my  being  gratified.  May  heavenly 
influence  rest  upon  your  soul,  and  diffuse  it- 
self by  your  pen  to  him  who  dearly  loves  you. 

I  hope  Mrs.  L  is  in  health,  and  that  when 

I  am  favoured  by  hearing  from  you  again,  I 
shall  be  informed  that  the  dear  children  are  in 


106 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


a  thriving  state.    They  have  entered  life  at 
a  very  eventful  time.    They  will,  if  spared, 
review  the  history  of  the  present  period,  be 
witnesses  to  some  of  the  wonders  with  which 
it  is  pregnant,  and  I  trust,  partakers  of  that 
grace  which  will  more  generally  then  pre- 
vail.   The  darkness  of  the  night  connects 
with  the  dawn  of  the  morning;  so  do  dark 
providences  with  those  bright  things,  after 
which  the  promises  raise  our  expectation. 
Why  they  should  come  with  so  slow  a  process, 
be  delayed  to  so  distant  a  period,  and  be  pre- 
ceded with  such  desolations  as  perhaps  we 
are  to  share  in,  is  an  inquiry  only  to  be  re- 
solved by  a  reference  to  the  divine  sovereign- 
ty, and  we  must  therefore  conclude  it  is  good 
and  right.    Upon  this  consideration  we  ac- 
quiesce in  the  providences  which  more  di- 
rectly respect  ourselves  and  our  immediate 
connexions,  and  endeavour  to  console  our  af- 
flicted friends,  whom  we  know  to  be  the  sub- 
jects of  divine  grace,  by  referring  them  to 
heaven  under  their  severe  trials.    In  that 
blessed  state,  where  the  government  is  per- 
petual and  the  king  everlasting,  sin  being  for 
ever  excluded,  no  pride,  animosity,  or  any 
thing  productive  of  strife,  can  corrupt,  irri- 
tate and  disconcert  the  union  and  happiness 
of  its  inhabitants.     Among  them  we  shall 
stand  in  our  lot.  What  is  allotted  to  us  here, 
is  patiently  and  submissively  to  be  borne,  I  had 
almost  said  cheerfully ;  but  as  no  chastening, 
which  is  but  another  word  for  affliction, 
seemeth  for  the  present  to  be  joyous,  it  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  a  bright  face  can  unite  with 
an  afflicted  mind.    Sometimes  the  thoughts 
and  the  evidences  of  heaven  are  overpowering 
to  our  sorrow,  like  a  third  or  fourth  quantity 
of  sweet,  acting  against  a  single  quantity  of 
bitter.    Nor  would  this  rarely  be  the  case,  if 
we  were  more  in  communion  with  God,  and 
had  our  conversation  in  heaven,  and  we  were 
from  thence  looking  for  the  coming  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ.  Lest  I  should 
seem  to  make  a  text  in  the  Hebrews  clash  with 
a  text  in  the  Romans,  I  would  observe,  that 
there  is  a  difference  between  an  affliction  en- 
tailed by  our  sins,  and  one  that  ariseth  from 
the  opposition  of  men  to  the  work  of  God,  or 
the  sufferings  of  the  Christian  for  righteous- 
ness sake.  A  martyr's  suffering  when  the  cause 
has  been  good,  has  had  more  than  a  fourth  or 
a  tenth  of  pleasure  acting  against  pain,  and 
from  such  instances  we  see  how  God  can  act 
upon  us,  to  make  us  at  least  equal  to  what- 
soever he  calls  us  to  bear.    My  dear  friend 
might  have  supposed  by  the  strain  of  my  writ- 
ing that  I  am  under  a  particular  exercise,  had 
I  not  prevented  the  thought  in  the  beginning 
of  the  letter.    But  no;  by  bending  to  the 
times  they  are  not  yet  too  hard  for  us,  though 
universal  experience  proves  that  the  expense 
of  housekeeping  is  doubled  since  I  became 
housekeeper.    The  distresses  of  the  poor  are 
not  so  easily  relieved,  though  in  consequence 


of  the  advanced  price  upon  all  the  articles  of 
life,  their  distresses  are  very  considerably  in- 
creased. The  cause  of  the  exorbitant  prices 
of  provision  is  matter  of  speculation  as  yet  un- 
explored. Perhaps  the  lightness  of  the  last 
crop  of  wheat  and  barley  accounts  in  part  for 
the  high  rate  at  which  these  are  purchased  ; 
and  during  the  drought  we  could  admit  of  the 
reason  for  butter  and  cheese  being  advanced. 
But  how  mercifully  did  a  fortnight's  rain  give 
verdure  to  the  creation  and  grass  to  the  cattle, 
which  has  continued  till  now  so  plentiful  that 
it  is  a  matter  for  admiration.  Why  then  these 
commodities  should  now  be  so  highly  rated 
must  be  conceived  of  from  some  other  cause 
than  the  parsimony  of  nature.  Whatever  it 
be  of  a  secondary  nature,  it  is  primarily  from 
the  Lord.  It  is  a  twig  in  that  rod  which  is 
made  to  scourge,  though  we  are  scourged  less 
than  our  iniquities  deserve.  May  repentance 
prevent  the  blow  from  being  repeated  with 
greater  force ;  and  may  it  not  only  be  repent- 
ance productive  of  reform,  but  may  it  be  re- 
pentance unto  life.    I  can  only  add  my  own 

and  Mrs.  W  's  kind  salutations  to  dear 

Mrs.  L  ,  and  that  I  am,  &c. 

"  Painswick,  October  26,  1800  " 


To  the  same. 

"  My  very  dear  sir, — I  am  generally  un- 
fortunate in  not  acknowledging  your  oblig- 
ing t.  nimunications  so  punctually  as  I  ought, 
and  on  this  account  stand  reprovable,  though 
your  kindness  withholds  the  reproof.  I  have 
had  no  disinclination  to  embrace  your  invi- 
tation to  Wem,  on  the  contrary  my  heart 
tends  towards  you,  but  I  have  been  prevented 
hitherto,  and  till  now  have  not  been  able  to 
fix  the  time  of  my  journey.  A  raging  ma- 
lignant fever  has  visited  our  neighbourhood, 
and  seized  numbers  of  the  dear  people  with 
whom  I  stand  connected.  It  has  held  long, 
and  still  continues,  and  by  the  visits  my  pas- 
toral office  obliges  me  to  make,  I  am  in  deaths 
oft.  With  others,  a  most  valuable  woman 
has  claimed  my  attention,  a  sufferer  of  an 
uncommon  description  for  fifteen  years,  who, 
about  six  weeks  since,  evidently  entered  upon 
her  last  stage,  and  I  was  desirous  to  continue 
my  feeble  services  to  her  till  she  got  beyond 
my  reach.  That  became  the  case  last  Sa- 
turday morning.  On  Lord's-day  evening  I 
preach  her  funeral  sermon.  The  following 
Sabbath  is  our  ordinance  day,  and  on  the 
Monday,  with  divine  permission,  I  shall  ad- 
vance to  Gloucester  in  my  way  to  Wem, 
making  Kidderminster  of  necessity,  and  Bir- 
mingham by  choice,  in  my  road.  What 

would  I  bring  with  me  if  I  could  of  the  trea- 
sures of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  instead  of 
which,  I  shall  bring  a  heavy,  dull,  empty 
mind,  and  a  body  that  is  far  from  being 
friendly  to  its  improvement.    I  shall  come 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


107 


with  great  expectation  of  being  edified  and 
comforted  by  my  dear  friends,  dear  Mr.  and 

Mrs.  L  e  and  the  circle  connected  with 

them.    And  though  it  lias  not  been  in  my 


power  to  embrace  their  invitation  while  the 
country  scenes  are  most  engaging,  what  may 
fail  without,  by  the  advance  of  the  autumn 
and  the  early  closing  of  the  days,  will  be 
amply  compensated  by  their  society  within 
doors,  the  retirement  of  the  chamber,  and  the 
silent  instructers  with  which  they  abound.  I 
pray  that  what  I  may  bring  into  the  pulpit 
may  be  clothed  with  divine  energy,  that  the 
creature's  deficiency  may  be  supplied  with 
the  fulness  of  God,  and  that  divine  power 
may  be  made  manifest  in  his  weakness.  I  see 
it  a  great  indulgence  that  I  have  been  at 
liberty  this  fine  spring  and  summer,  though  I 
cannot  walk  much  or  far  at  a  time,  and  by 
the  exertion  I  am  obliged  to  make,  I  am  sen- 
sible of  much  fatigue.  The  use  of  the  pen 
has  the  like  effect;  but  I  must  act  under  the 
influence  of  self-denial,  that  I  may  discharge 
in  the  best  manner  I  can,  the  duties  I  owe 
God  and  my  connexions. — I  would  rather 

have  our  dear  friend   's  love  than  his 

lash,  because  I  dearly  love  him,  and  if  I  could, 
would  preserve  him  from  being  lashed;  but 
he  sometimes  exposes  himself  to  the  whip  by 
the  liberty  he  takes,  a  return  of  which  he 
cannot  well  bear.  How  desirable  is  an  ad- 
mission into  the  general  assembly  and  church 
of  the  first  born,  consisting  of  the  spirits  of 
the  just  made  perfect,  when  in  consequence 
of  their  perfection,  their  views  are  exactly 
right  Could  we  but  live  here  in  the  exer- 
cise of  Christian  charity  and  forbearance,  we 
might  differ  without  being  different  as  to 
what  is  essential  to  Christianity.  Uniformity 
is  not  necessary  to  union,  except  we  consider 
it  in  reference  to  Christ.  In  sentiment  and 
external  order  it  is  impossible.  In  our  land, 
where  the  divisions  of  profession  are  so  va- 
rious, a  fine  opportunity  is  afforded  for  the 
exercise  of  charity.  But  it  is  hard  to  attain 
that  grace ;  whereas  depravity,  as  it  appears 
in  our  dissentions,  is  common  to  our  nature, 
and  breaks  forth  upon  the  smallest  occasion 
offered.  Blessed  be  God  for  the  spirit  pre- 
vailing in  you,  my  dear  sir.  May  the  mind 
that  was  in  Christ  Jesus  be  in  you  more  and 
more,  till  you  are  as  completely  as  possible 
changed  into  his  image.    Please  to  present 

my  kindest  salutations  to  dear  Mr.  L  , 

Mr.  E  ,  and  all  who  have  any  recollection 

of  yours,  &c. 

"  Painswick,  August  27,  1801." 


To  the  same. 

We  have  slipped  into  a  new  year,  I  had 
almost  said,  imperceptibly,  while  my  most 
dear  friend's  favour  of  the  24th  of  November 
remains  unacknowledged,  though  not  unno- 


ticed. Shame  upon  me !  I  feel  it  as  I  write ; 
but  indulged  by  the  liberty  you  give,  I  hope 
these  lines,  though  too  long  delayed,  will  be 
acceptable.    Strange  to  tell !    When  your 

letter  with  the  copy  of  Mr.  W  's  and  the 

translation  of  the  soliloquy  of  Musculus  came 
to  Painswick,  I  was  in  London,  from  whence 
I  did  not  return  till  the  beginning  of  the  last 
month.  The  call  thither  was  sudden  and  pro- 
vidential. It  respected  the  business  of  the 
good  little  woman  which  I  mentioned  to  you 
when  at  Wem.  The  critical  moment  was 
the  moment  of  divine  interposition ;  and  by 
the  benevolence  of  a  neighbour,  and  the 

vigorous  exertion  of  Mr.  P  1,  the  decent 

subsistence  of  about  fourscore  pounds  per 
annum  is  rescued  from  Chancery.  This  oc- 
currence detained  me  four  weeks  in  the  me- 
tropolis, where  I  preached  in  different  con- 
gregations, among  which  the  Tabernacle  and 
Surrey  chapel  are  to  be  mentioned.  I  had  as 
much  pleasure  as  I  usually  have  in  preaching ; 
I  have  not  wings  to  soar  high.  I  had  great 
pleasure  in  hearing  several  excellent  minis- 
ters, within  and  without  the  establishment, 
and  am  delighted  by  the  evident  proof  that  a 
great  spirit  of  hearing  prevails.  It  is  sup- 
posed by  some  that  the  spirit  of  religion  is 
not  so  apparent  as  formerly.  I  would  hope 
this  is  a  mistake.  There  may  be  leaves  with- 
out fruit,  but  there  cannot  be  fruit  without 
leaves ;  and  I  think  the  inference  to  be  drawn 
from  a  number  of  hearers  is  natural,  that 
some  good  is  doing,  though  it  may  not  be 
in  proportion  to  appearance.  The  circle 
I  moved  in,  gave  me  pleasure.  I  found  the 
friends  who  formed  it  such  as  I  could  wish. 

Mr.  P  1  is  not  diverted  from  the  gospel 

by  the  study  of  the  civil  law,  but  like  my 
dear  Zenas,  finds  his  delight  in  the  law  of 
the  Lord,  and  has  his  soul  absorbed  in  the 
gospel  of  Christ,  though  he  has  not  stepped 
into  a  pulpit  to  proclaim  it. — How  great  a 
debtor  am  I  to  you !    I  do  not  forget  that  I 

am  very  much  dear  Mrs.  L  's  debtor  also. 

I  revolve  in  my  mind  the  late  visit,  and  the 
comfort  it  was  attended  with.  Not  a  day,  I 
believe,  passes  without  the  thought  of  you 
and  yours.    I  hope  your  late  disappointment 

has  left  no  unpleasant  effect  upon  Mrs.  L  , 

but  that  her  constitution  gets  confirmed. 
May  many  years  be  appointed  for  your  ex- 
istence together,  and  your  mutual  happiness ; 
and  though  an  addition  in  course  be  not  given 
to  your  offspring,  may  the  dear  little  creatures 
you  have,  flourish  to  a  long  maturity,  and  re- 
ward the  parental  cares  by  a  return  of  affec- 
tion! Did  you  goto  Ireland?  Or  did  the 
sudden  introduction  of  peace  prevent  your 
design  from  taking  effect?  I  hope  it  will 
prove  a  permanent  peace,  and  that  we  shall 
have  no  damp  brought  upon  our  joy.  We 
have  a  more  important  peace  in  which  we 
are  so  interested,  that  were  it  not  made  by 
the  blood  of  the  Cross,  we  must  have  been 


108 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


eternally  miserable :  but  being  made  sure  and 
ratified,  our  eternal  happiness  follows  of  con- 
sequence. The  vicissitudes  which  occur 
among  individuals  and  nations,  though  they 
may  affect  us  as  men,  cannot  hurt  us  event- 
ually. Yet  a  little  while  and  we  shall  be 
carried  above  all  that  is  earthly ;  and  while 
on  earth,  amidst  all  the  convulsions  common 
to  this  world,  we  shall  be  preserved  from 
evil,  or  be  supported  under  whatever  degree 
of  it  the  Lord  may  see  fit  to  befall  us.  Mrs. 

W         joins  in  affectionate  wishes,  that 

blessings  in  an  abundance  may  be  your  por- 
tion this  year.  I  feel  a  desire  to  express 
more  than  I  am  able.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  am,  &c. 

"  Painswick,  Jan.  9, 1802." 


To  Mr.  P  e. 

"  My  dear  friend, — Your  claim  upon  my 
promise  is  a  very  just  one.  I  am  not  morti- 
fied that  you  have  it  to  present  me  with,  but 
pleased  that  you  hold  me  worth  your  notice. 
Never  think  hard  of  me  because  I  am  not 
exact  in  writing,  since  I  am  ready  to  prove 
my  warm  attachment  when  I  can  devote  the 
hour  to  you.  I  observe  your  partiality  for  re- 
tirement, and  am  thankful  for  the  little,  and 
it  is  but  little  I  have  of  it.  Though  the  situa- 
tion I  inhabit  is  favourable  to  it,  I  cannot  al- 
ways use  it  to  advantage.  The  duties  of  the 
pulpit  require  much  more  and  closer  medita- 
tion than  I  can  indulge ;  and,  owing  to  the 
little  services  I  am  called  to  attend  to,  on  the 
behalf  of  one  and  another,  a  great  deal  of  time 
is  employed  more  like  a  man  in  business,  than 
like  a  student  in  divinity,  or  as  a  person  who 
would  indulge  literary  pursuits.  It  is  a  mercy 
to  be  in  God's  way,  and  though  it.  be  not 
pleasant  to  have  our  inclination  thwarted, 
in  the  end  it  will  turn  out  better  to  us  than 
living  to  ourselves.  There  is  literary  lust,  as 
well  as  the  lust  of  the  flesh;  and  as  unhallow- 
ed passion  and  pride  usually  accompany  each 
other ;  so  vanity  and  letters  are  too  closely 
connected,  and  the  man  of  general  learning 
too  frequently  forgets,  that  if  he  had  not  been 
exempted  from  manual  labour,  and  had  dili- 
gently applied  the  mind  to  his  favourite  ob- 
ject, he  would  have  gaped  with  wonder  at 
that,  which,  by  the  display  of,  he  makes  others 
gape.  You  are  evidently  called  to  be  the 
man  of  business,  but  whether  it  be  the  busi- 
ness of  the  care-worn  metropolis,  or  that 
which  may  be  negotiated  among  the  sweet 
scenes  of  Stroudwater,  is  impossible  for  me 
to  judge.  It  is  the  mercy  of  thousands,  and 
of  yourself  in  the  number,  that  communion 
witli  God  is  not  incompatible  with  business. 
Let  not  the  latter  be  carried  to  the  unneces- 
sary extreme,  and  the  former  will  comport 
with  it.  The  world  is  the  great  stage  upon 
which,  not  the  drama,  but  the  reality  of  life 


is  exhibited ;  each  man  is  a  character,  and 
has  his  part  once  to  perform,  and  having  per- 
formed it,  he  makes  his  exit  to  be  seen  no 
more.    Think  of  this,  my  dear  friend,  and 
perform  your  part  well.    Neither  you,  nor  I, 
have  had  our  part  to  choose,  it  is  wisely  al- 
lotted to  us,  and  if  we  look  to  him  who  has 
appointed  us  to  stand  in  our  lot,  his  grace 
will  be  sufficient  for  us.   Called  to  advance  a 
little  before  you,  most  probably  I  shall  with- 
draw a  little  sooner.    You  are  on  your  ad- 
vance, and  will  have  your  removal;  attend  to 
the  heavenly  Prompter  and  you  will  make  no 
material  mistake,  no,  not  in  the  education  of 
your  children.  Why  are  you  so  anxious  upon 
that  head?  According  to  the  sphere  in  which 
a  child  is  designed  to  move,  should  be  the 
limit  or  extent  of  his  education.  Let  common 
and  essential  parts  be  learnt  well,  and  leave 
all  the  rest.    Too  highly  finished  an  educa- 
tion to  a  child  who  has  his  bread  to  labour 
for,  is  as  prejudicial  as  a  neglected  education. 
You  cannot  crowd  into  the  years  of  fourteen, 
the  accomplishments  which  require  applica- 
tion till  twenty.  Unless  you  intend  that  your 
daughters  shall  be  upon  an  equality  with 
ladies  of  the  first  description,  and  your  sons 
shall  be  prepared  for  a  profession,  I  hope  you 
will  be  wiser  than  many  parents,  who  feed 
vanity  and  unfit  for  usefulness,  and  thereby 
entail  misery  and  distress  upon  posterity. 
Have  a  special  care  of  their  morals,  and  in- 
culcate the  principles  and  duties  of  religion 
with  the  greatest  exactness,  and  you  will  lay 
a  good  foundation.    I  wish  you  had  signified 
whether  you  succeed  in  your  new  department, 
as  to  know  it  will  give  me  pleasure.  But  the 
times  are  bad,  and  I  can  hardly  indulge  hope 
for  many  of  my  friends.    The  mysterious 
wheel  of  Providence  is  going  round,  and  it 
will  fix  politics  in  their  proper  posture  by  and 
by.    Though  present  appearances  are  un- 
favourable, they  are  in  their  proper  order  to 
effect,  and  to  bring  to  pass,  according  as  the 
God  of  the  whole  world  has  purposed  and 
promised.    I  intend,  if  I  live  till  fast-day,  to 
engage  the  attention  of  my  people  to  the 
second  and  third  verses  of  the  forty-sixth 
Psalm.  Trouble  and  perplexity  will  cease  in 
proportion  as  we  are  disposed  to  be  like 
minded  with  the  Psalmist.    I  am  endeavour- 
ing to  accommodate  circumstances  to  provi- 
dences, and  through  mercy,  we  are  indulged 
with  much  peace  and  tranquillity.  When  you 
come  into  Gloucestershire,  we  shall  be  obliged 
by  a  sight  of  you. '  I  wish  it  had  been  in  my 
power  to  have  spent  more  time  with  you  at 
Hackney,  but  so  wide  is  the  circle  of  friends 
in  and  about  London,  that  it  wears  me  out  to 
attempt  to  pay  due  respect  to  them.    I  shall 
not  be  deficient  in  my  remembrance  of  you 
in  my  best  moments.    Give  me  the  same 
advantage,  and  believe  me  to  be,  my  dear 
friend,  yours  affectionately." 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


109 


To  the  same. 

"My   dear   friend, — Your  last  favour 
might  be  supposed  to  be  a  stimulus  to  me. 
Indeed  it  is  not  without  its  effect,  though  I 
never  forgot  my  obligations;  to  discharge 
them  presently  was  not  in  my  power.  I  wish, 
now  I  sit  down  to  discharge  them,  I  may  be 
able  to  pay  you  large  interest.    I  have  an 
inclination  so  to  do;  if  I  fail,  impute  it  to  my 
poverty.    I  am  abundantly  obliged  by  your 
communication  of  the  Monthly  Magazine, 
which,  for  want  of  time,  has  been  shamefully 
neglected,  and  I  am  sorry  I  am  obliged  to  add, 
so  superficially  scanned  over,  that  numberless 
articles  have  escaped  me. — Every  day  brings 
its  particular  business,  and  the  week  is  so 
swift  in  its  rotation,  that  I  scarcely  get  re- 
vived from  the  fatigue  of  one  Sabbath  before 
another  revolves  upon  me,  and  finds  me  un- 
prepared for  its  public  services.    I  live  a  life 
of  perpetual  languor,  and  my  eyes  hardly  ever 
cease  to  ache.    A  reading  society  crowds 
books  pretty  fast  upon  me,  and  I  can  hardly 
expedite  the  reading  of  them  fast  enough. 
The  Bible  demands  far  more  of  my  attention 
than  I  give  it,  both  as  a  minister,  that  I  should 
be  a  scribe  well  instructed,  and  as  a  Chris- 
tian, that  I  may  know  the  things  which  are 
freely  given  to  me  of  God.    A  scanty  mind 
will  neither  receive  nor  retain  every  thing. 
That  must  first  and  principally  be  attended 
to,  that  is  of  the  first  importance.  My  day  is 
far  spent ;  for  want  of  falling  early  in  life  into 
proper  hands,  the  hours  are  far  gone  beyond 
recall,  which  should  have  been  devoted  to 
improvement;  and  there  are  many  things 
which  it  would  be  pleasing  to  be  acquainted 
with,  but  of  which,  at  my  time  of  life,  and  in 
my  situation,  I  must  be  content  to  be  ignorant, 
at  least  to  be  very  superficially  acquainted 
with ;  especially  as  I  have  a  young  man  with 
me  to  whose  improvement  I  must  be  atten- 
tive ;  and  this  is  an  additional  reason  why  I 
cannot  indulge  pursuits  for  which  I  am  in- 
clined.   It  is  well  to  be  disposed  to  be  in  the 
will  of  God ;  and  knowing  we  are  in  it,  we 
ought  to  be  satisfied.    Pride  makes  us  dis- 
contented with  little  things,  and  the  universal 
prevalence  of  pride  is  the  ruin  of  the  whole 
world.    I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  that  by  living 
under  the  blessing  of  God,  and  the  influence 
of  his  Holy  Spirit,  you  have  food  for  content- 
ment to  feed  upon,  and  that  meeting  with  a 
daily  sufficiency  for  yourself  and  family,  you 
feel  yourself  rich.  The  present  are  spending, 
not  enriching  times.    The  current  where 
riches  flow  is  partial.    It  is  directed  to  here 
and  there  a  great  man,  very  seldom  a  good 
man.  Any  man  had  better  be  without  riches, 
unless  he  conceives  of  them  as  coming  from 
God,  and  that  he  is  accountable  for  the  use 
and  improvement  of  them.    When  they  are 
coined  by  oppression  and  fraud,  and  arc  stained 
with  blood,  they  will  turn  to  a  witness  against 

10 


their  possessors  in  his  sight  who  judgeth  right- 
eously, and  who  will  render  to  every  man 
according  to  his  works.  How  many  are  there 
at  this  time  who  are  basking  in  their  wealth, 
but  who  are  nigh  unto  cursing,  whose  end  is 
to  be  burned  !  A  worse  evil  than  poverty  will 
come  upon  them  as  an  armed  man,  and  they 
shall  not  be  able  to  escape.  The  way  to  avoid 
the  snare  is  to  use  the  Gospel  properly,  to  be 
decided  by  its  declarations,  to  be  guided  by 
its  precepts,  to  believe  its  promises,  and  to  be 
so  intensely  set  upon  its  heavenly  objects,  as 
to  be  detached  from  earth.    A  very  valuable 

character,  Mr.  of  ,  a  sweet  singer 

in  that  department  of  God's  Israel,  who  had 
much  to  do  with  life,  was  on  Sabbath  day  af- 
ternoon called  from  it.  He  was  successful  in 
his  endeavours,  and  has  lived  just  long  enough 
to  rear  the  last  of  his  children.  I  fear  their 
not  partaking  of  the  father's  grace,  will  pre- 
vent the  property  gained  by  industry,  from 
spending  well.  This  is  the  principal  piece 
of  intelligence  I  have  to  communicate,  unless 

I  add  to  it  the  happy  death  of  Mr.  F  of 

Frampton,  of  which  you  shall  have  a  particu- 
lar account  through  the  press.    I  hope  these 

will  find  you,  Mrs.  P  ,  Mrs.  B — ■ — ,  and 

the  dear  children,  well.  My  best  wishes  ever 
attend  you,  and  my  prayers  often  accompany 

them.  Mrs.  W  unites.   Here  we  are  in 

our  little  cottage,  conforming  to  the  times, 
and  waiting  for  whatever  events  our  good 
Lord  has  appointed  for  us. — I  am,  &c. 
"  Painswick,  April  3,  1799." 


To  the  same. 

"My  dear  sir, — Still  I  may  appear  to 
be  deficient  in  the  performance  of  my  pro- 
mise ;  but  I  still  have  an  excuse  to  plead.  My 
heart  is  better  disposed  towards  you,  than  in- 
tentionally to  withhold  the  only  gratification 
it  is  in  my  power  to  afford  you.  The  lapse 
of  almost  three  months,  since  I  left  London, 
makes  the  account  of  my  journey  home  un- 
suitable ;  it  was  a  journey  of  some  difficulty, 
but  of  more  mercy.  Within  a  few  roods  of 
the  Golden  Hart,  at  Stroud,  the  coach  was 
overset,  but  I,  the  only  inside  passenger,  es- 
caped unhurt.  I  believe  my  grasping  the 
loop  on  the  upper  side,  and  poising  my  head 
with  as  much  caution  as  possible,  prevented 
a  mischievous  blow.  In  all  danger,  human 
foresight  and  caution  is  vain,  but  as  we  are 
providentially  directed  to  them,  with  design 
to  our  protection.  Our  dangers  are  many 
more  than  we  are  aware  of,  and  our  obliga- 
tion to  the  Lord  for  our  salvation,  greater 
than  we  can  possibly  conceive.  This  being 
the  case,  resignation  of  ourselves  to  God,  con- 
fidence in  him,  and  praise  rendered  to  him 
should  be  three  principal  duties,  in  the  dis- 
charge of  which  we  should  daily  live,  and 
I  while  we  thus  live,  we  shall  not  he  inatten- 


110 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


tive  to  whatever  else  respects  the  glory  of 
God,  nor  fail  to  exert  ourselves  for  his  glory. 
An  attention  to  this  essential  duty  of  Chris- 
tianity, does  not  require  that  we  should  al- 
ways be  in  the  act  of  divine  worship.  This 
is  impossible.    We  must  wait  till  we  arrive 
at  glory,  before  we  can  be  thus  incessantly 
employed.    Yet  are  we  not  to  be  inattentive 
to  this  devotional  service  while  here.  We 
shall  find  it  to  our  advantage  to  redeem  as 
much  of  our  time  as  we  can  retrieve  from  the 
business  of  life,  for  this  sacred  service  ;  and 
to  engage  in  it,  not  as  an  amusement,  but  as 
an  exercise  of  a  pious  nature,  by  which  our 
communion  with  God  is  to  be  supported. 
While  we  have  a  spark  of  zeal  for  God,  we 
should  lament  the  decay  of  custom,  which 
among  the  people  of  our  connexion,  promotes 
frequent  week-day  assemblies,  as  well  as 
those  which  are  collected  on  the  Sabbath. 
But  is  there  not  reason  to  suspect  that  we 
preserve  them  rather  as  means  of  amusement, 
than  as  being  concerned  in  the  use  of  them, 
to  keep  up  holy  intercourse  with  God?  They 
cannot  be  detached  from  private  devotion, 
without  losing  their  efficacy.    The  recess  of 
the  closet  prepares  for  public  ordinances,  as 
the  advantages  of  public  ordinances  are  se- 
cured and  made  efficacious,  by  the  exercises 
of  that  retirement.    But  as  the  tradesman 
must  of  necessity  engage  much  of  his  time  to 
the  business  of  the  counting-house,  what  is 
he  to  do]    Take  God  with  him — regard 
equity  in  his  negociations — guard  against  le- 
vity, even  where  he  cannot  with  propriety  in- 
troduce religion.    Where  it  would  be  imper- 
tinent to  make  religion  the  subject  of  dis- 
course, a  man  may  be  religious.  Sanctity 
of  heart  will  produce  sanctity  of  deportment, 
which  will  act  against  levity  and  sinful  com- 
pliance, without  disgusting  those  who  are  of 
a  contrary  part.    Ejaculation  is  a  mental  act, 
in  the  habitual  use  of  which,  communion 
with  God  may  be  maintained  in  the  crowd,  as 
well  as  in  the  closet,  and  we  can  pray  with- 
out letting  any  body  know  we  are  at  prayer. 
While  settling  an  account,  or  posting  the 
books,  a  space  may  be  found  to  relieve  the 
mind  by  the  indulgence  of  a  spiritual  thought, 
that  may  be  of  great  use  to  prevent  it  from 
being  engrossed  by  earth ;  and  though  the 
mind  being  constantly  upon  the  stretch,  mav 
feel  its  burden,  it  will  be  prevented  by  a 
momentary  retreat  to  spiritual  objects,  from 
sinking  under  it.    They  that  wait  upon  the 
Lord  for  the  smallest  time  shall  renew  their 
strength.    This,  my  dear  friend  has  learned 
by  experience,  and  as  your  knowledge  in- 
creases you  will  become  daily  confirmed  in 
grace.    Your  helps  are  more  "than  your  hin- 
derances,  many  as  they  may  be,  and  your 
Helper  is  always  at  hand.    To  him  T  com- 
mend you  while  I  write,  as  well  as  at  other 
times,  and  pray  he  may  endue  you  with  all 
that  fortitude  your  difficulties  and  duties  may 


require,  and  that  you  may  stand  every  shock 
with  courage,  and  submit  to  every  disappoint- 
ment with  a  persuasion  that  nothing  comes 
by  chance. — Times  are  yet  seriously  bad,  not- 
withstanding peace  is  restored.  Whether  it 
be  permanent  or  not,  must  be  left  for  futurity 
to  determine.  If  I  were  to  think  for  myself 
only,  I  should  be  very  indifferent  about  po- 
litical events,  as  I  am  descending  into  the 
vale  of  life,  and  a  few  steps  farther  may  carry 
me  beyond  all  earthly  concerns.  I  feel  much 
which  forbids  my  expectation  of  becoming  a 
very  old  man,  though  appearance  misguides 
the  judgment  of  my  friends,  who  hardly  sup- 
pose I  am  the  invalid  I  am  in  reality.  It  is 
at  the  expense  of  much  spirits  I  prosecute 
my  ministry,  and  discharge  the  duties  which 
attach  to  it.  I  have  a  little  youth  who  at- 
tends me  every  day,  the  youngest  son  of  the 

widow  H  ,  for  whose  improvement  I  use 

the  Elegant  Extracts,  and  there  I  see  such 
ample  instruction  for  youth,  that  I  wish  to 
recommend  it  to  your  dear  little  folks.  I 
could  produce  nothing  like  it.  Accompanied 
with  your  lectures  nothing  can  be  more  suita- 
ble. I  think  John  is  at  a  good  school,  do  not 
remove  him.  Let  him  at  his  present  school 
acquire  all  he  can,  and  live  under  your  eye, 
and  in  your  house.  The  years  will  insensi- 
bly glide  forward  when  he  will  become  your 
companion,  with  whom,  having  secured  his 
affection  by  the  tenderness  of  your  conduct, 
you  may  pass  your  evenings  with  pleasure, 
though  every  friend  should  be  at  a  distance. 
— I  am,  &c. 

"  Painswkk,  March  3, 1802." 


To  Mr.  P  r. 

"  My  dear  sir, — Should  I  never  more  see 
your  face  in  the  flesh,  I  shall  not  be  unmind- 
ful of  you,  Mrs  P  ,  and  your  dear  little 

family.  The  comforts  I  have  received  among 
you,  and  the  favours  imparted  by  you  in  my 
latter  visits  to  the  metropolis,  are  not  to  he 

erased  from  my  memory.    Mrs.  P  said 

'  Write  to  us,'  and  I  did  write,  and  I  write 
again  to  show  you,  that  not  merely  to  disen- 
gage myself  from  a  promise,  but  to  convince 
you  I  bear  you  upon  my  heart.  I  wrote  my 
other  letter,  and  follow  it  with  a  second.  I 
was  glad  to  have  my  inquiries  after  you  sa- 
tisfactorily answered  by  Mrs.  W  .  I  hope 

you  have  the  indulgences  of  Providence,  and 
an  increase  of  divine  grace  continued  to  you. 
Though  the  former  are  very  desirable,  and 
set  the  mind  at  liberty  from  anxiety,  they 
will  not  do,  being  alone.  They  may  for  the 
natural  man,  who,  as  he  pants  after,  can  be 
satisfied  with  the  dust  of  the  earth ;  but  the 
Christian  has  soul  wants,  which  are  of  a 
spiritual  nature,  and  can  only  be  satisfied  by 
spiritual  provision.  It  is  furnished  in  a  rich 
abundance,  and  every  hungry  soul  shall  be 
filled  with  it.  The  epicure  cannot  more  highly 


HIS  LIFE  CONTINUED. 


Ill 


be  delighted  with  his  dainty  meats,  than  the 
believer  is  with  the  provisions  of  the  house  of 
God,  even  of  his  holy  temple.    The  neigh- 
bourhood of  Hackney  I  find  continues  to  be 
enriched  with  it,  and  London  overflows  with 
it    Our  country  is  not  barren;  it  has  its  suf- 
ficiency.    Our  Lord  always  suits  his  sup- 
plies to  his  family.    Wherever  lie  has  an  in- 
fant child,  there  shall  be  breasts  which  he 
shall  suck  and  be  satisfied.  Yesterday  I  was 
supplying  the  congregation  of  Chalford,  while 
the  minister  of  that  place  was  in  my  pulpit, 
and  I  found  it  good  to  be  there.    We  find  a 
little  exchange  good  for  the  body  and  the 
mind.    The  ride  of  six  or  seven  miles  is  re- 
freshing, and  I  am  very  sensible  of  it.  I  can- 
not do  as  I  have  done.    I  am  older  in  consti- 
tution than  in  years,  yet  have  I  passed  sixty- 
four.    I  could  be  glad  to  be  excused  a  third 
service  on  a  Sabbath-day,  but  I,  for  the  most 
part,  am  thus  frequently  engaged  without 
abridging  either,  and  in  addition  to  this  have 
week-day  services.    I  sometimes  suspect  my 
limbs  will  fail  me.    I  have  as  much  difficulty 
in  standing  as  in  preaching,  and  am  in  con- 
stant pain,  which,  blessed  be  God,  is  not  ex- 
cruciating.   He  only  knows  to  what  extent 
my  day  is  to  be  continued,  who  hath  length- 
ened it  thus  far.  The  evening  of  it  has  arriv- 
ed, and  I  am  an  expectant  of  rest — that  rest 
which  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God.  I 
adore  the  grace  which  has  made  me  of  their 
number,  that  I  have  partaken  with  them  on 
earth,  and  am  encouraged  to  believe  I  shall 
have  my  portion  with  them  for  ever.  There, 
in  that  land  of  uprightness,  where  the  Lord 
will  gather  all  his  people  in  one  glorious 
body,  the  din  of  arms  will  no  longer  offend 
our  ears,  nor  the  cruelty  and  perplexity  of 
war  vex  and  distress  our  minds.  The  events 
of  the  present  day  are  very  serious,  and  they 
portend  future  serious  events.    To  what 
lengths  our  inveterate  and  victorious  enemy 
may  be  suffered  to  proceed  is  hard  to  say. 
He  is  our  scourge,  may  he  not  be  our  des- 
truction.   He  is  the  rod  of  God's  anger,  and 
probably  may  be  burned,  when  the  correction 
of  which  he  is  instrumental,  shall  have  an- 
swered its  end.    May  our  prayers  counter- 
act his  efforts,  and  salvation  be  appointed  for 
walls  and  bulwarks  about  us.  The  spread  of 
the  Gospel  is  a  blessed  omen  in  our  favour. 
I  wish,  in  proportion  to  its  prosperity  in  ge- 
neral, I  could  report  great  things  at  Pains- 
wick.    Something,  however,  is  doing.  Our 
Sunday's  school  is  kept  in  existence ;  for  this 
and  for  several  poor  people,  I  could  be  glad 
of  a  few  Bibles,  if  among  your  connexions  you 
could  procure  me  such  a  gift,  with  Watts's 
Psalms  and  Hymns.  With  kind  and  respect- 
ful salutations  to  Mrs.  P         and  to  Miss 

S  ,  if  with  you,  and  with  my  best  wishes 

and  prayers  for  your  whole  family,  I  am,  &c. 
"  Painswick,  November  24, 1806." 


To  Mr.  J—s  E  1 

"I  have  longed  for  an  opportunity  to  sit 
down,  and  with  suitable  composure  of  mind, 
to  acknowledge  the  dateless  letter  of  my  very 
dear  friend.  I  am  ashamed  to  be  so  long  your 
debtor,  without  giving  such  a  discharge  as 
you  are  kind  to  accept.  But  the  mind  and 
the  body  have  been  alike  infirm,  and  though 
forced  into  activity,  they  have  not  bent  to  let- 
ter writing,  but  when  and  upon  subjects  un- 
avoidable. I  little  expected  to  have  been  in- 
formed of  the  removal  of  your  valuable  and 
dear  mother.  The  last  sight  I  had  of  her, 
would  lead  me  to  suppose  she  had  many 
years  before  her,  in  which  to  be  blessed  by, 

and  be  a  blessing  to  her  dear  J  s.  But 

'  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death,'  and 
while  we  seem  to  hold  our  friends  firm,  they 
slip  from  us,  drawn  by  Him  whose  attractive 
power  will  have  all  unto  himself,  sooner  or 
later,  whom  he  hath  secured  for  himself  by 
the  purchase  of  his  precious  blood.  In  that 
number  was  the  excellent  woman  who  gave 
you  birth,  and  lived  to  see  you  so  far  on  the 
journey  of  life,  and  to  witness  the  gracious 
providence  of  God  smiling  upon  you.  I  well 
recollect  the  placid  facetiousness  that  mutu- 
ally passed  between  you,  when  last  at  Bath, 
and  the  thoughts  which  it  occasioned  in  my 
mind.  I  trust  resignation  and  submission 
have  enabled  you  to  yield  the  Saviour  his 
claim,  and  that  the  thought  of  your  mother 
being  glorified,  reconciles  you  to  her  remo- 
val. I  thank  you,  my  dearest  sir,  for  the  ac- 
count of  her  departure.  I  am  yet  behind,  I 
hope  ready  to  go ;  O  that  I  may  not  have  to 
say,  '  Spare  me  a  little,'  when  my  Master's 
summons  will  require  me  to  go  hence.  1 
carry  about  me  some  symptoms  that  the  taber- 
nacle is  in  a  state  of  decay.  I  did  not  know 
what  the  close  of  the  fall  might  produce. — 
Through  mercy  I  am  a  little  braced,  but  not 

strong.    Mrs.  W         gets  very  feeble,  and 

the  remains  of  sight  are  very  inconsiderable. 
She  has  expressed  a  desire  to  be  removed  if 
her  life  be  spared  till  next  winter,  within  a 
step  or  two  of  the  house  of  God,  and  I  am 
watching  for  an  opportunity  by  the  opening 
of  Providence  to  indulge  her.  She  says  it 
will  be  as  necessary  for  myself  as  for  her.  It 
will  be  attended  with  a  little  inconvenience, 
but  to  this  I  submit.  I  can  say  what  I  never 
could  before,  that  I  have  settled  my  last 
year's  accounts,  in  which  my  poor  have  had 
a  portion,  and  have  twenty  pounds  in  the 
house.  Whether  when  the  lawyer's  bill  is 
settled,  a  trifle  more  may  come  to  me,  I  can- 
not say.  The  property  has  sunk  considera- 
bly, but  even  with  the  demands  of  govern- 
ment, prudently  used,  enough  remains.  Your 
benevolence  being  consecrated  to  the  use  of 
the  poor,  enables  me  to  be  a  little  more  dif- 
fuse, and  a  very  particular  case  engaging  my 


112 


MEMOIRS  OF  C.  WINTER. 


attention,  renders  it  acceptable.  May  the  li- 
beral things  you  have  devised,  add  perma- 
nency to  your  standing  on  the  foundation  of 
Providence,  and  may  the  dear  offspring  aris- 
ing from  you,  inherit  a  large  blessing,  with 
which  God  has  often  seen  fit  to  honour  the 
parent's  liberality.  We  are  much  refreshed 
and  assisted  in  the  journey  of  life,  by  the 
blessings  of  Providence.  They  are  not  our 
portion  but  only  a  part  of  it,  and  where  it  is 
withheld,  it  requires  grace  to  submit  to  all 
the  wants  and  cravings  of  nature  without 
murmuring  and  repining. — God  can  and  does 
give  grace,  suited  to  that  disconsolate  sta- 
tion, and  in  it  the  crumb  is  precious,  which 
in  affluence  is  only  considered  proper  for  the 
dogs.  The  Lord  sometimes  raises  the  poor 
from  the  dust,  and  if  their  advancement  be 
sanctified,  they  carry  the  estimate  of  the 
crumb,  according  to  what  their  former  wants 
rated  it  at,  and  are  careful  of  it,  that  it  be  not 


wasted ;  and  with  addition,  make  it  subser- 
vient to  the  comfort  of  the  needy.  Though 
extreme  need  has  not  been  a  part  of  your  ex- 
perience, you  have  learned  how  to  use  pro- 
perly, and  liberally  to  dispose  of  property. 
May  you  always  have  a  rich  store  from 
whence  '  to  do  good  and  to  communicate.' 
My  kind  regards  accompany  these  to  Mrs. 

E  ,  to  Mr.  W- — ,  and  Miss  E  ,  to 

the  whole  number  if  they  recollect  me.  My 
enfeebled  and  blind  wife  unites  with  me. 
She  is  greatly  altered,  but  has  stamina.  How 
long  we  are  to  be  together,  or  which  is  to 
precede  the  other  into  the  state  of  blessed- 
ness, is  only  known  to  him  who  has  his  plan 
and  purpose  before  him,  to  whom  it  becomes 
us  to  yield  submission.  To  him  I  commend 
you,  and  am  increasingly,  my  very  dear  sir, 
yours,  &c. 

"  Painswick, 
"  January  22, 1807." 


MEMOIRS 


OF  THE  LATE 


REV.  JOHN  CLARK, 


U  KITTEN  JJV  HIMSELF;  AND  AT  HIS  REQUEST,  PUBLISHED  WITH  REMARKS, 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


TO  MRS.  CLARK,  THE  WIDOW;  TO  JOHN  CLARK,  ESQ.  THE  SON ;  TO  THE 
CHURCH  AND  CONGREGATION,  THE  CHARGE;  TO  THE  REV.  JOHN 
INNES,  THE  SUCCESSOR  OF  THE  LATE  REV.  JOHN  CLARK, 
This  Memoir,  with  a  few  additional  Remarks,  is  respectfully  dedicated  by 

The  Editor. 


TO  THE  READER. 

In  December,  1807,  the  author  and  subject  of  the  following  narrative  being  in  Bath  for 
his  health,  informed  me  that  he  had  written  some  considerable  memoirs  of  his  own  life,  which 
he  wished  to  commit  into  my  hands  for  perusal  and  publication.  This  intention  he  never 
executed  personally :  but  soon  after  his  death,  his  respected  widow  and  his  son  gave  me  the 
papers  in  compliance  with  his  repeated  charge.  I  received  the  present  from  them,  as  I  did 
the  promise  from  him,  on  the  condition  of  my  possessing  a  discretionary  power. 

If  it  be  asked  in  what  way  I  have  used  this  authority,  I  answer — it  has  only  been  in  the 
way  of  abridgment.  And  with  regard  to  the  parts  omitted,  I  would  observe,  that  on  the  one 
hand,  there  was  nothing  in  them  that  could  have  detracted  from  the  substantial  excellency 
of  Mr.  Clark  ;  or  on  the  other,  that  could  have  been  important  to  his  character,  either  in  ren- 
dering it  useful  and  impressive,  or  prominent  and  distinct.  They  were  mere  repetitions  of 
journies  and  preachings,  &c.  without  any  remark  of  importance  attached  to  them. 

In  the  selection  of  what  is  retained  and  made  public,  the  editor  has  had  his  motives,  and 
they  extended  to  every  part  of  it :  though  for  the  perception  and  approbation  of  them,  he  must 
be  indebted  to  the  judgment  of  some,  and  the  candour  of  others:  as  in  a  case  of  this  kind,  it 
cannot  be  supposed  that  he  could  attempt  to  state  or  vindicate  every  view  that  has  influenced 
him.  Some  few  things  would  not  have  obtained  permission  to  appear,  but  for  three  reasons. 
First,  an  unwillingness  to  merge  the  peculiarity  of  the  individual,  and  rob  him  of  any  dis- 
tinguishing feature.  Secondly,  a  fear  of  deviating  too  much  from  the  design  of  the  deceased, 
and  the  wishes  and  expectations  of  his  friends  and  connexions.  And  thirdly,  a  supposition 
that  an  editor  is  not  deemed  answerable  for  every  expression  used,  or  opinion  held  by  the 
author  he  publishes. 

The  editor,  however,  to  prevent  any  mistaken  inference  from  the  supposition  on  which  he 
has  presumed,  wishes  it  to  be  observed,  that  he  is  by  no  means  ashamed  of  the  leading  doc- 
trinal sentiments  apparent  in  the  memoir,  and  known  to  be  held  by  the  writer.  But  where 
there  is  a  general  agreement,  there  may  yet  be  a  number  of  subordinate  differences.  There 
are  things  which  two  individuals  may  hold  to  be  equally  true,  but  not  equally  important: 
they  may  therefore  dissent  from  each  other  as  to  the  degree  of  attention  they  deiserve — and 
this  will  considerably  affect  the  proportion  in  which  they  are  dispensed.  They  may  hold 
the  same  things. to  be  not  only  equally  true,  but  equally  important ;  and  yet  dissent  from  each 
other  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  should  be  enforced,  whether  abstractedly  in  their  no- 

P  lo*  ny 


114 


TO  THE  READER. 


tions,  or  in  their  experimental  and  practical  bearings;  whether  in  their  qualities  or  uses; 
whether  in  the  mechanical  exactness  of  human  systems,  or  in  the  line  glowing,  natural  un- 
defineable  freedom  of  scripture-language. 

This  article  might  be  exceedingly  enlarged,  by  extending  the  remark  to  a  variety  of  sub- 
jects. But  what  the  editor  lias  to  allege,  either  by  way  of  exception  or  qualification,  must 
be  reserved  for  those  reflections  with  which  he  may  review  the  character  and  the  narrative 
in  the  close  of  the  work. 

To  the  relations  and  friends  of  Mr.  Clark  the  editor  has  to  apologize  for  the  delay  of  the 
publication,  or  rather  to  account  for  it,  by  observing — that  as  soon  as  the  manuscript  was  put 
into  his  possession,  he  was  obliged,  by  engagement,  to  take  several  considerable  excursions 
from  home ;  and  that  on  his  return  from  the  last  of  them,  he  was  visited  by  an  indisposition 
that  rendered  relaxation  necessary  even  in  the  ordinary  duties  of  his  office.  The  latter  pre- 
vention ought,  in  a  measure,  to  apologize  for  the  execution,  as  well  as  the  delay  of  the  work. 

WILLIAM  JAY. 

Percy-Place ;  March,  1810. 


GRATEFUL  MEMOIRS,  &c. 


The  various  occurrences  that  have  attend- 
ed the  life  of  an  individual,  can  be  of  little 
importance  to  mankind  at  large ;  and  unless 
some  of  those  events  have  been  rather  unu-  i 
sual,  they  will  yield  but  small  gratification  to 
such  as  read  merely  for  the  sake  of  amuse- 
ment. I  should  not,  therefore,  have  presumed 
to  obtrude  the  following  memoirs  upon  the 
public  notice,  had  they  not  been  connected 
with  the  striking  providence  and  grace  of 
God,  in  raising  and  establishing  a  religious 
interest  in  the  town  of  Trowbridge,  in  the 
county  of  Wilts,  by  my  poor  and  unworthy 
instrumentality.  Surely,  the  goodness  of 
God,  and  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
of  men  ought  to  be  recorded  ;  and  ho  doubt, 
it  will  be  a  gratification  to  those  who  wish 
well  to  religion,  to  be  informed  how  this  lit- 
tle work  was  begun,  and  by  what  means  it 
has  been  carried  on,  by  the  kind  hand  of  our 
God  upon  us,  unto  the  present  moment.  All 
glory  and  praise  be  to  his  name  for  ever  and 
ever.  Amen. 

With  respect  to  myself,  I  drew  my  first 
breath  at  Frome-Selwood,  in  the  county  of 
Somerset,  on  the  13th  of  January,  O.  S.  1745. 
—  I  was  born  of  reputable  parents,  of  the 
established  church,  who  gave  me  an  educa- 
tion rather  beyond  their  situation  in  life,  and 
beyond  what  they  gave  to  any  other  of  their 
children.  The  first  twelve  years  of  my  life 
were  spent  at  my  native  place,  and  were 
marked  with  nothing  very  observable ;  ex- 
cept that  I  had  frequent  convictions  of  sin 
from  my  earliest  recollection,  which  proved 
a  great  preservative  from  many  of  the  follies 
and  vices  that  youth  in  general  are  prone  to 
run  into.  I  can  also  look  back  upon  many 
and  striking  instances  of  the  kind  interposi- 
tion of  providence,  in  delivering  me  from  im- 
minent dangers — even  from  my  infancy. 

I  was  sent  to  learn  Latin  at  nine  years  of 
age,  in  which  I  was  enabled  to  make  a  tole- 
rable proficiency,  as  I  had  an  excellent  mas- 
ter, and  applied  myself  with  diligence.  My 
parents,  being  of  the  established  church,  sent 
me  when  about  ten  years  old,  to  be  confirmed 
by  the  bishop ;  and  I  recollect,  that  I  was  ex- 
tremely affected  at  the  ceremony,  and  when 
I  returned  home  wept  very  much,  and  resolved, 
that  if  possible,  I  would  never  be  guilty  of 
another  sin.  I  was  fond  of  hearing  sermons, 
especially  if  they  were  delivered  with  any 
degree  of  earnestness;  but  could  not  distin- 
guish between  a  mere  moral  and  evangelical 


discourse,  till  I  heard  that  excellent,  and  I 
may  say,  seraphical  preacher,  Mr.  Thomas 
Jones,  of  St  Saviour's,  Sout.hwark.  O !  what 
shall  I  render  to  God  for  his  great  goodness 
in  casting  my  lot  under  the  ministry  of  such 
a  person !  This  was  brought  about  by  a  re- 
markable providence.  My  father,  though  he 
was  in  a  very  good  way  of  business  at  Frome, 
took  a  fancy  to  remove  to  London ;  where, 
however,  he  staid  scarcely  three  quarters  of 
a  year,  and  then  returned  to  fix  his  residence 
in  Trowbridge — the  place  of  his  own  and  my 
mother's  nativity. 

My  father  now  began  to  think  of  placing  me 
out.  It  was  in  contemplation  to  send  me  to 
the  university,  but  this,  providence  was  pleased 
to  overrule.  Indeed,  as  about  this  time,  six 
students  had  been  expelled  Oxford,  for  being 
religiously  disposed  ;  there  seemed  but  little 
hope  that  any  persons  of  seriousness  would 
meet  with  much  encouragement  there.  As 
the  business  of  a  brewer,  which  my  father 
pursued,  did  not  suit  my  inclination,  it  was 
proposed  that  I  should  be  a  clothier,  and  ma- 
nage that  business  for  him  till  I  was  at  an 
age  to  take  it  upon  myself.  In  the  year  176(i, 
being  then  twenty-one  years  of  age,  I  was 
put  into  partnership  with  a  brother-in-law,  in 
the  same  line :  about  this  time,  I  narrowly 
escaped  being  crushed  to  death  by  the  falling 
of  a  house  under  repair  ;  myself,  with  several 
more,  had  scarcely  got  without  the  door,  when 
it  fell  down  with  a  dreadful  crash. 

But  before  this  period,  I  hope  I  had  made 
some  progress  in  heavenly  things.  The  Lord 
had  begun  a  good  work  in  me,  and  he  will  never 
forsake  the  work  of  his  own  hands.  Great 
were  my  enjoyments  in  drawing  nigh  to  him 
in  secret ;  in  sitting  under  his  precious  word  ; 
in  conversing  with  pious  Christians.  With  a 
company  of  these,  I  soon  became  acquainted, 
especially  one  individual — a  dear  relation, 
who  was  seeking  the  Lord  like  myself,  and 
who  was  a  great  encouragement  to  me  in 
pursuing  the  good  ways  of  the  Lord. 

On  Christmas-day,  1763,  she  invited  me  to 
the  sacrament.  As  I  was  then  but  eighteen 
years  of  age,  I  trembled  at  the  thought ;  at 
last,  however,  I  consented,  and  we  received 
it  at  a  church  about  a  mile  from  Trowbridge, 
from  the  hands  of  a  pious  minister,  settled 
there.  But  it  is  impossible  to  describe  the 
sacred  delights  I  experienced  at  that  ever- 
memorable  time.  I  wet  the  ground  with 
tears  of  joy  and  thankfulness,  when  I  took  the 
115 


116 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


bread  and  the  wine  into  my  hands  in  com- 
memoration of  the  dying  love  of  my  dear  Re- 
deemer. From  that  time,  I  constantly  attended 
the  sacrament  at  our  parish  church,  conclud- 
ing' that  the  efficacy  of  it  is  not  destroyed  to 
him  that  receives  it  in  faith,  by  the  unworthi- 
ness  of  him  that  administers  it. — See  the 
twenty-sixth  Article.  I  likewise  attended 
the  preaching  there  as  regularly  as  I  could, 
though  I  took  every  opportunity  of  hearing 
the  gospel  elsewhere. 

Hitherto,  the  Lord  had  tenderly  indulged 
me ;  but  now  I  was  to  he  taken  and  taught 
to  Walk  by  faith.    Many,  great,  and  grievous 
temptations  I  began  to  experience,  tiie  rea- 
son of  which  I  can  now  discover.  They  were, 
doubtless,  to  prepare  me  for  the  work  he  had 
for  me  afterwards  to  do.    I  was  tempted  to 
call  in  question  the  trutli  of  my  Christianity, 
and  almost  wished  I  had  gone  greater  lengths 
in  sin  and  wickedness,  that  my  conversion 
might  have  been  rendered  the  more  conspicu- 
ous. But  I  was  enabled  to  ward  off'  this  temp- 
tation by  the  argument  of  the  man  in  the  gos- 
pel, who  had  received  his  sight : — "  Whereas 
I  was  blind,  now  I  see."    Admitting,  said  I, 
even  the  worst,  were  all  my  former  profes- 
sion but  a  delusion,  yet  it  is  not  even  now  too 
late  to  come  to  him  who  has  promised  to  be 
found  of  all  that  seek  him. — Another  tempta- 
tion more  dreadful  than  even  this,  was  my 
questioning  the  authenticity  of  the  Scriptures 
themselves ;  and  "  if  the  foundations  be  de- 
stroyed, what  can  the  righteous  do  ?"    I  was 
ever  of  an  inquisitive  disposition,  and  not  being 
as  yet  acquainted  with  the  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, I  was  horribly  perplexed,  and  almost 
led  to  utter  desperation ;  but  blessed  be  God, 
this  only  drove  me  to  examine  more  narrow- 
ly into  the  truth  of  the  Bible ;  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  those  Dialogues  that  I  after- 
wards published,  under  the  title  of  Fidusand 
Eumenes.    But  I  am  persuaded,  that  nothing 
will  completely  satisfy  the  mind  on  this  sub- 
ject, but  the  all-powerful  application  of  the 
trutli  of  the  word  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
These  things  are  hid  from  the  wise  and  pru- 
dent, and  revealed  unto  babes.    Many  other 
were  my  temptations  at  this  period,  so  that 
sometimes  I  wished  I  had  been  made  a  brute 
— a  serpent — a  toad,  or  that  I  had  never  ex- 
isted at  all. 

My  worldly  friends  and  relations  began 
also  to  manifest  their  disapprobation  on  seeing 
me  associate  with  the  people  of  God,  who 
were  in  general  poor,  and  branded  with  the 
odious  name  of  Methodists.  Particularly  my 
father  was  roused  by  some  of  his  acquaint- 
ances, who  insinuated  to  him,  that  if  I  con- 
tinued to  go  on  in  this  way,  it  would  entirely 
ruin  my  fortune  in  this  world;  though,  thanks 
be  to  God,  they  were  mistaken,  lor  none  has 
greater  reason  to  be  thankful  on  that  head 
than  myself.  But  lie  used  me  very  harshly, 
sometimes  even  proceeding  to  blows.  But  this 


the  Lord  also  turned  into  good  to  me ;  for  my 
being  enabled  to  take  all  patiently,  and  not 
being  permitted  to  make  any  resistance,  or  to 
use  any  impertinent  language  to  my  father, 
has  frequently,  on  reflection,  given  me  the 
most  pleasing  satisfaction.  It  also  by  degrees 
won  him  over  to  treat  me  with  tenderness, 
and  even  respect,  and  at  last  lie  became  one 
of  my  constant  hearers. 

I  continued  to  assemble  with  my  dear  Chris- 
tian friends  every  Sunday  morning  and  even- 
ing, and  once  on  a  week  night ;  for  they  would 
not  break  in  upon  the  public  service  of  the 
church,  being  mostly  members  of  the  esta- 
blishment.   Here  the  time  was  spent  in  pray- 
ers, and  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  sometimes 
a  sermon  of  some  pious  and  evangelical  di- 
vine.   As  I  was  judged  to  be  a  pretty  good 
reader,  I  was  prevailed  upon  sometimes  to 
take  that  office.    This  first  of  all  induced  me 
to  write  my  own  thoughts  on  a  text  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  read  it  to  them :  at  which  they  ex- 
pressed pleasure  and  edification,  and  entreat- 
ed me  to  go  on  in  this  way.  The  first  discourse 
of  this  kind  I  recollect  to  have  read,  was  the 
8th  of  April,  1765,  from  John  x.  14.    But  as 
writing  sermons  at  length  was  too  laborious 
for  me,  and  interfered  greatly  with  my  world- 
ly business,  I  was  induced  sometimes  to  con- 
tent myself  with  taking  down  only  the  heads 
of  a  discourse,  and  filling  up  the  rest  extem- 
poraneously. This  I  continued  for  nearly  two 
years,  till  being  invited  to  preach  at  a  village 
about  three  miles  from  Trowbridge,  called 
East  Town,  I  ventured  to  trust  entirely  on 
the  promised  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost; 
and  without  any  previous  study  or  arrange- 
ment of  the  subject,  preached  from  Mark  xvi. 
16.    This  I  was  enabled  to  do  with  so  much 
ease  and  comfort  to  myself,  and  satisfaction 
to  the  audience,  that  thenceforward,  I  never 
made  use  of  any  notes,  but  was  enabled  to 
cast  myself  entirely  on  the  divine  goodness. 
And  this  suited  best  with  my  occupation  as  a 
clothier;  for  I  was  frequently  obliged  to  go 
from  my  counting-house  directly  into  the  pul- 
pit, and  could  get  no  time  for  previous  medi- 
tation.   But  though  this  was  sometimes  at- 
tended with  much  cause  for  humiliation,  and 
often  tried  my  confidence,  it  became  at  lengtli 
so  habitual,  that  I  always  made  the  most  re- 
gular discourses,  as  well  as  the  most  animated 
and  useful,  when  I  adhered  to  that  method ; 
and  every  deviation  from  it  served  rather  to 
embarrass  me  when  in  the  pulpit.  I  consider- 
ed, however,  that  this  by  no  means  excused 
me  from  studying,  in  a  general  way,  God's 
holy  word  and  wonderful  works;  but  rather 
enforced  so  much  the  more  the  necessity  of 
it,  that  I  might  lay  up  a  stock  of  things  new 
and  old,  ready,  when  called,  to  brinjr  forth  to 
the  public.    My  business,  also,  being  with 
persons  of  different  descriptions,  especially 
the  working  poor,  gave  me  an  opportunity  of 
knowing  the  real  manners  of  men,  and  seeing 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


117 


more  into  the  depravity  of  human  nature.  I 
was,  also,  always  fond  of  philosophical  re- 
searches, and  especially  of  mechanics ;  and 
this  occasionally,  together  with  music,  to 
which  I  was  exceedingly  attached,  served  to 
fill  up  my  leisure  hours,  and  enlarge  my  ideas 
of  things,  as  well  as  men.  Thus  has  the  Lord 
taught  me  from  my  youth,  and  I  have  accord- 
ing to  my  ability  hitherto  declared  his  won- 
drous works. 

But  now  I  began  to  be  very  much  grieved, 
having  preached  several  years  and  seeing  very 
little  good  done.  I  feared  that  I  had  intruded 
myself  into  the  ministry,  and  had  run  before  I 
was  sent.  One  Saturday  evening,  after  having 
despatched  my  business,  as  I  was  solemnly 
musing  on  this  important  point,  and  beseech- 
ing my  Heavenly  Father  to  direct  me,  I  had 
these  words  forcibly  impressed  on  my  mind : — 
"  Feed  the  flock  of  God  which  is  among  you, 
taking  the  oversight  thereof  not  by  constraint, 
but  willingly;  not  for  filthy  lucre,  but  of  a 
ready  mind."  This  seemed  to  point  out  all 
the  particulars  that  I  had  wished  to  know: 
viz. — That  the  Lord  had  designed  me  for  the 
ministerial  office — That  my  charge  lay  among 
the  people  with  whom  I  had  associated — That 
my  business  was  to  feed  them  and  watch  over 
them — That  I  should  cheerfully  and  willingly 
engage  in  it — and  seek  no  worldly  advantage 
from  it.  The  remaining  part — "  and  when  the 
chief  Shepherd  shall  appear,  ye  shall  receive 
a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away" — did 
not  at  that  time  occur  to  my  mind ;  but  after- 
ward, being  at  the  ordination  of  a  minister  at 
Warminster,  the  charge  turned  upon  this  lat- 
ter clause ;  and  I  then  received  very  great 
encouragement  from  this  gracious  promise, 
and  was  glad  that  I  did  not  remember  it  be- 
fore, as  it  helped  to  prove  that  I  did  not  en- 
gage in  the  Lord's  work  from  even  the  pros- 
pect of  a  heavenly  reward.  After  this,  I  be- 
gan to  think  of  the  pastoral  office,  and  having 
preached  from  these  words — "  Let  all  things 
be  done  decently  and  in  order,"  I  was  more 
confirmed  in  my  thoughts  about  it:  for  hither- 
to there  was  no  bond  to  unite  us,  nor  disci- 
pline to  correct  any  misconduct,  but  every 
one  did  what  was  right  in  his  own  eyes.  We 
were  also  greatly  annoyed  by  the  Sandemani- 
ans  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Arminians  on 
the  other,  who  were  continually  seeking  to 
draw  away  disciples  after  them.  I  preached 
from  this  text  September  14th,  1707,  and  from 
that  time  I  began  to  mention  my  design  to 
some  of  my  dear  friends,  who  expressed  them- 
selves extremely  happy  at  the  thought  of  be- 
ing connected  more  closely,  and  having  the 
Lord's  supper  administered  among  ourselves. 
After  a  month's  deliberation,  and  much  earn- 
est prayer  to  the  great  head  of  the  church, 
we  proposed  having  a  meeting  to  consult 
about  this  important  matter;  and  on  the  15th 
of  November,  1707,  and  after  making  a  short 
comment  on  Nehemiah  ii.  17 — "  Ye  see  the 


distress  that  we  are  in,  how  Jerusalem  licth 
waste,  and  the  gates  thereof  are  burned  with 
fire :  come,  and  let  us  build  up  the  wall  of 
Jerusalem,  that  we  be  no  more  a  reproach" — 
we  kneeled  down  and  besought  the  Lord  to 
direct  us,  and  not  suffer  us  to  do  any  thing 
inconsistent  with  his  glory  and  our  mutual 
comfort  and  advantage.    On  rising  from  our 
knees,  nine  of  us,  six  men  and  three  women, 
made  a  confession  of  our  faith,  and  solemnly 
gave  our  hands  to  each  other  in  the  fear  of 
God,  with  a  determination  to  watch  over  each 
other,  and  to  promote  to  the  utmost,  our 
mutual  welfare.    Others  were  present,  but 
chose  to  wait  a  little  longer  before  they  joined 
us:  but  after  this,  our  number  quickly  in- 
creased, and  great  joy  and  Christian  affection 
prevailed  among  us.    It  was  then  proposed 
that  we  should  meet  again  in  a  few  days,  and 
settle  the  order  of  this  infant  church,  and 
choose  a  minister  to  preside  over  it,  and  break 
the  bread  of  life  to  the  rest.  We  accordingly 
met,  and  they  unanimously  proposed  me  as 
their  pastor ;  and  as  I  had  before  expected  it, 
and  had  made  it  the  matter  of  most  mature 
reflection  and  earnest  prayer,  I  accepted  their 
call,  but  with  extreme  fear  and  diffidence.  We 
then  kneeled  down  and  besought  the  Lord 
Jesus,  the  chief  Shepherd,  to  direct  and  bless 
us.   We  agreed  to  have  the  sacrament  every 
Lord's-day,  but  this  some  years  after,  from 
various  causes,  yielded  to  a  monthly  adminis- 
tration.   We  agreed  to  provide  a  box  for  the 
relief  of  the  poor,  to  receive  those  who  applied 
for  admission  as  members,  with  the  most  strict 
attention  to  their  faith  and  practice ;  but  if 
any  stranger  not  dwelling  in  the  town,  wish- 
ed at  any  time  to  sit  down  with  us  occasion- 
ally, he  was  welcome,  provided  he  came  pro- 
perly recommended  by  a  member  of  the 
church ;  and  we  had  no  objection  to  any  de- 
nomination of  Christians  partaking  with  us, 
who  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity ; 
for  we  determined  from  the  beginning  to 
avoid  all  bigotry  and  zeal  for  a  party.  Some 
have  objected  to  the  validity  of  my  pastoral 
office,  not  having  had,  as  they  call  it,  a  regu- 
lar ordination.  But  though  I  have  no  objection 
for  a  minister,  who  is  chosen  by  any  assembly 
of  Christians  to  be  their  pastor,  to  call  in  his 
brethren  in  the  ministry  to  be  witnesses  of 
their  mutual  engagement,  and  to  assist  them 
with  their  prayers  and  advice — yet  in  my 
case,  it  was  utterly  impracticable :  for  as  to 
the  established  clergy,  however  inclined,  they 
arc  forbidden  such  a  service ;  and  the  dissent- 
ing ministers  around  us,  were  so  jealous  and 
narrow,  that  it  would  have  been  in  vain  to 
apply  to  them,  especially  as  we  never  profess- 
ed to  be  a  sect  of  regular  dissenters.  I  judge 
that  every  church  is  competent  to  choose  their 
own  minister,  as  every  family  ,has,  unques- 
tionably, a  right  to  choose  their  own  servant, 
without  the  concurrence  of  the  heads  of  any 
other  family — yet  I  bless  God,  we  have  not 


118  MEMOIRS  OF 

been  without  the  repeated  testimony  and  ac- 
knowledgments of  his  dear  servants  of  va- 
rious denominations,  Clergymen,  Independ- 
ents, Baptists,  &c.  who  have  publicly  and 
solemnly  prayed  for  us  under  the  character 
and  description  of  a  church  of  Christ,  and 
for  me,  likewise,  as  a  pastor  over  it.  But,  I 
trust,  we  have  that  which  is  beyond  every 
thing  else,  the  approbation  and  blessing  of  the 
great  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls,  who  has 
now,  at  the  time  of  my  writing  this,  continu- 
ed to  bless  us  with  all  the  privileges  of  a 
church  nearly  thirty-eight  years,  and  I  hope 
will  continue  to  do  so  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
Amen. 

1767,  Nov.  18th.  Had  a  sister  who  died 
of  a  dropsical  complaint ;  and  she  being  the 
first  of  our  family  that  had  gone  into  eternity 
since  I  had  been  capable  of  reflection,  it  was 
a  very  awful  providence  to  me,  and  I  endea- 
voured to  improve  it  by  reading  a  sermon  to 
our  relations  who  were  invited  to  the  funeral, 
after  their  return  from  the  grave.  When  I 
first  proposed  it,  I  could  perceive  some  of 
them  sneered,  but  they  were  afterward  very 
attentive :  and  I  hope  it  was  attended  with 
the  blessing  of  God  to  their  souls. 

1768.  I  had  now  gone  on  comfortably  for 
some  time,  and  the  Lord  was  with  me,  and 
carried  me  through  my  work,  though  I  often 
found  myself  greatly  fatigued  in  preaching 
every  Lord's-day  three  times,  besides  admi- 
nistering the  sacrament,  and  always  Monday 
and  Thursday  evenings  at  home,  besides  fre- 
quent excursions  into  the  neighbouring  towns 
and  villages.  I  had  also  many  discourage- 
ments arising  from  a  sense  of  my  own  ina- 
bility, the  greatness  of  the  work  in  which  I 
was  engaged,  and  the  little  success  that 
seemed  to  follow  in  proportion  to  my  labours. 
At  length,  my  discouragement  prevailed  to 
such  a  degree,  that  on  the  Lord's-day,  Feb. 
21st,  having  had,  in  the  afternoon  in  particu- 
lar, a  very  distressing  opportunity,  I  resolved 
to  terminate  my  preaching  with  that  exer- 
cise. Drinking  tea  afterwards  with  some 
dear  Christian  friends,  I  told  them  my  inten- 
tion. They  said  all  they  could  to  dissuade 
me  from  giving  up  the  work,  especially  that 
evening,  when  there  would  be  a  large  con- 
gregation assembled,  and  they  must  be  disap- 
pointed, as  it  was  impossible  to  procure  any 
other  minister,  the  time  being  nearly  expired 
for  the  service  to  begin.  I  would  not  give  ear 
to  any  of  their  entreaties,  but  positively  de- 
clared that  I  could  not  think  of  preaching 
any  more.  While  we  were  warmly  debating 
the  case,  some  one  rang  at  the  door.  This 
proved  to  be  a  pious  old  woman,  a  member  of 
our  church,  who  being  admitted,  said  she 
came  to  desire  me  to  preach  from  these 
words : — "  Then  I  said  I  would  speak  no  more 
in  his  name,  but  his  word  was  as  a  fire  shut 
up  in  my  bones,  and  I  was  weary  with  for- 
bearing, and  I  could  not  stay."  Jeremiah 


JOHN  CLARK. 

xx.  9.  She  said  she  did  not  know  where  the 
words  were,  but  her  mind  was  much  im- 
pressed with  them:  and  she  could  not  but 
come  and  desire  me  to  preach  from  them  that 
evening.  I  asked  her  if  she  knew  the  sub- 
ject on  which  we  had  been  discoursing:  she 
said,  she  did  not.  This  extraordinary  circum- 
stance struck  me  very  much.  I  could  not 
but  conclude  it  to  be  an  interposition  of  pro- 
vidence, and  therefore  consented  to  preach 
that  once,  and  from  the  same  words ;  and  I 
bless  God,  I  found  it  a  blessing;  and  though 
I  have  had  many  trials  in  my  work,  I  have 
never  been  so  violently  tempted  on  this  head 
ever  since. 

I  had  now  many  invitations  round  the  coun- 
try to  come  and  preach  to  them,  which  I  ac- 
cepted. Sometimes  I  preached  in  private 
houses,  and  often  in  the  fields,  to  great  num- 
bers; and  hope  the  Lord  often  blessed  my 
poor  endeavours  to  the  conversion  of  un- 
godly sinners,  and  the  comfort  of  his  own 
people. 

1769,  August  23d.  My  mother  died  this 
morning  about  six  o'clock.  Happening  to  be 
alone  with  her  when  she  expired,  I  was  very 
much  affected ;  and  calling  up  my  father  and 
the  rest  of  the  family,  I  endeavoured  to  im- 
prove the  awful  warning  by  speaking  to  them 
of  their  own  situation  were  death  to  overtake 
them  suddenly:  they  heard  me  very  pa- 
tiently, and  seemed  greatly  affected.  My 
mother  was,  I  hope,  seeking  after  salvation, 
but  I  never  heard  her  say  much  of  her  expe- 
rience. She  was  very  kind  to  the  poor,  and 
attended  constantly  the  sacrament  at  the 
church,  and  frequently  came  to  hear  me. 
While  at  London,  she  was  very  fond  of  hear- 
ing Mr.  Thomas  Jones,  of  St.  Saviour's ;  and 
I  would  hope,  at  that  time,  serious  impres- 
sions were  made  on  her  mind. 

February  22d.  Took  a  journey  to  dispose 
of  my  cloth.  Preached  at  Romsey — Winter- 
bourn — Salisbury,  &c.  to  good  congregations, 
and  with  much  freedom. 

1770,  May  27th.  I  was  seized  with  ex- 
treme pain  in  my  back,  attended  with  a  vio- 
lent fever.  It  went  from  my  back  into  every 
joint  of  my  body,  which  in  succession  swelled 
very  much,  and  became  so  inflamed  and  pain- 
ful, that  I  could  not  bear  to  be  touched.  This 
confined  me  to  my  room  nearly  six  weeks, 
and  a  great  part  of  the  time  to  my  bed.  My 
Christian  friends  were  very  kind  and  affec- 
tionate ;  and  before  I  was  able  to  go  to  the 
house  of  God,  many  of  them  came  into  my 
chamber,  to  whom  I  expounded  the  first  chap- 
ter of  the  Philippians,  and  was  peculiarly 
struck  with  the  words,  verses  24,  25,  26. 
The  whole  chapter  seemed  adapted  to  my 
situation,  and  afforded  me  unspeakable  de- 
light. Indeed,  I  was  extremely  happy,  at  the 
prospect  of  eternity,  should  it  have  pleased 
the  Lord  to  take  me. 

July  8th.    Was  so  far  recovered  as  to  be 


MEMOIRS  OF 

able  to  go  to  the  meeting,  and  preached  from 
Hebrews  ii.  9.  I  was  very  languid,  but  hope 
in  a  degree  sensible  of  the  goodness  of  God 
in  bringing  me  again  into  his  house,  and 
among  his  people. 

July  30th.  Had  a  call  to  London.  On  the 
road,  hearing  of  a  young  man  that  was  con- 
fined in  Marlborough  jail  for  robbery  on  the 
highway,  I  felt  greatly  disposed  to  go  and 
talk  with  him.  When  I  entered  the  prison, 
he  appeared  very  penitent,  and  sorry  for  the 
crime  he  had  committed.  I  gladly  embraced 
the  opportunity  to  recommend  the  precious 
Redeemer  of  sinners.  He  showed  me  a  let- 
ter he  had  written  to  his  uncle,  to  endeavour 
to  save  his  life ;  but  I  advised  him  not  to  re- 
sort to  any  indirect  means  to  evade  justice, 
but  if  he  was  condemned  by  the  laws  of  his 
country,  to  submit  to  death  for  an  example  to 
others.  This,  alas!  was  a  doctrine  hard 
to  be  embraced  for  a  person  in  his  situation : 
but  he  seemed  to  acquiesce ;  and  what  pleased 
me,  was  the  concern  the  poor  creature  mani- 
fested for  his  fellow-prisoners,  whom  he  en- 
treated me  to  visit ;  and  one  of  whom  was 
confined  for  a  similar  crime.  I  did  so,  and 
my  mind  was  much  affected  by  what  I  saw 
and  heard.  Lord,  may  I  ever  be  preserved 
from  sin,  and  be  content  with  such  things  as 
thy  good  providence  shall  bestow  upon  me  ! 
— Meeting  with  a  gentleman  and  his  wife, 
who  were  of  the  people  commonly  called 
Quakers,  traveling  the  same  road,  and  find- 
ing them  seriously  disposed,  we  journeyed 
several  miles,  discoursing  on  such  religious 
subjects  as  we  were  all  agreed  in.  As  we 
put  up  at  the  same  inn,  we  supped  and  speut 
the  evening  together ;  but  I  was  much  sur- 
prised to  find  that  on  my  proposing  prayer 
before  we  went  to  rest,  they  strenuously  op- 
posed it.  I  begged  one  of  them  to  engage, 
but  could  not  prevail ;  I  thought  it  therefore 
my  duty  to  engage,  but  was  sorry  to  observe 
their  irreverent  behaviour  at  the  time. — 
What  a  pity  is  it  that  Christians,  serving  the 
same  God,  and  believing  the  same  scripture 
revelation,  should  be  so  inflexible  in  trifles 
of  no  importance,  and  for  a  mere  form,  break 
Christian  communion. — After  finishing  my 
business  at  London,  and  hearing  many  ex- 
cellent sermons,  I  returned  to  Trowbridge 
August  12th,  and  again  entered  on  my  work, 
being  kindly  greeted  by  the  brethren. 

The  place  of  worship  we  first  occupied  had 
been  too  small  for  the  congregations  that  as- 
sembled ;  it  was,  therefore,  proposed  by  some 
kind  friends,  to  build  a  place  that  might  at 
the  same  time  serve  the  purpose  of  a  dwell- 
ing-house, and  the  rooms  be  so  disposed  as 
to  admit  of  a  large  number  of  people  by  taking 
up  some  of  the  floor  occasionally,  and  thus 
making  the  upper  chambers  answer  the  end 
of  galleries.  This  was  done,  and  we  preached 
in  it  for  several  years.  But  now  the  place 
became  too  strait  for  us ;  and  therefore,  my 


JOHN  CLARK.  119 

dear  friend  and  relative,  Miss  Cook,  who  was 
now  Mrs.  Turner,  proposed  purchasing  a 
piece  of  ground,  and  building  a  more  suitable 
place  for  divine  worship. 

September  5th.  We  have  now  many  per- 
sons who  frequently  come  from  Devizes  and 
other  towns  and  villages  around  us.  May  the 
Lord  increase  our  usefulness  with  this  in- 
tended enlargement  of  our  tent.  The  princi- 
pal people  in  the  town  acknowledge  that 
much  good  has  been  done  in  moralizing  the 
people,  though  many  of  them  do  not  approve 
of  the  doctrines  which  have  effected  it. 

At  this  time,  I  was  led  to  interpose  my  poor 
endeavours  to  moderate  an  unhappy  difference 
that  had  arisen  between  the  Baptist  minister 
of  our  town,  and  some  of  his  people.  I  greatly 
sympathized  with  poor  Mr.  R.  and  wrote  a 
letter  to  his  church,  entreating  them  to  love 
and  unity ;  which,  I  trust,  was  kindly  receiv- 
ed ;  but  it  did  not  remove  the  dispute,  as  their 
minister  was  shortly  after  obliged  to  leave 
them. 

September  14th.  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  friends 
at  Devizes.  It  was  requested  that  I  should 
preach  in  the  Baptist  meeting,  but  the  minis- 
ter would  not  consent :  I  was  therefore  obliged 
to  preach  in  a  private  house ;  not,  I  hope,  with- 
out the  approbation  of  my  dear  Master. 

October  9th.  Preached  at  Melksham,  in  the 
Baptist  meeting;  these  friends  being  more 
liberally  minded  than  those  of  Devizes.  There 
were  present  some  of  all  denominations  of 
Christians  in  the  town. — O !  how  pleasant  it  is 
for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity. 

I  still  continued  going  out  into  the  villages 
as  I  had  opportunity,  the  particulars  of  which 
would  swell  these  papers  too  much,  and  there- 
fore for  the  future  shall  omit  such  excursions, 
as  well  as  my  ordinary  labours  at  home,  unless 
any  thing  should  be  found  particularly  worthy 
of  recording.  About  this  time,  I  began  to  be 
encouraged  by  some  seals  to  my  ministry.  I 
was  often  afraid  I  had  been  labouring  in  vain, 
and  spending  my  strength  for  nought :  but 
now  it  pleased  God  to  give  me  more  intima- 
tion of  his  blessing  the  word  preached.  Seve- 
ral characters  notoriously  wicked,  have  been 
convinced  of  the  error  of  their  ways,  and  are 
now  living  in  the  most  exemplary  manner,  to 
the  astonishment  of  their  neighbours.  This  is 
a  sufficient  recompense  for  all  my  pains  and 
reproaches.  Besides  this,  I  have  had  many 
acknowledgments  from  persons  that  have 
been  greatly  edified  and  comforted.  Yet  I 
have  to  regret,  that  some  of  those  who  seem- 
ed for  a  season  to  run  well,  are  turned  aside 
to  some  dangerous  errors  that  have  lately 
been  introduced  into  the  town,  making  faith 
to  be  nothing  more  than  a  simple  assent  to 
the  truth  of  the  gospel,  and  denying  the  in- 
fluences of  the  Spirit  of  God. — O  my  soul ! 
come  not  thou  into  their  secret;  and  unto 
their  assembly,  my  honour  be  not  thou  united. 

1771.  My  father  having  removed  to  Lon- 


120  MEMOIRS  OP 

don  with  my  brother,  I  am  now  going  to 
board  with  my  frierids,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Turner. 
I  have  hitherto  had  but  little  success  in  trade, 
but  I  am  doing  the  Lord's  work.  He  is  too 
good  a  master  to  suffer  me  to  want;  yet  I 
would  not  be  less  diligent  in  attending  to  my 
worldly  affairs. 

April  24th.  Preached  at  a  village  called 
Nasteed,  about  a  mile  from  Devizes,  at  the 
house  of  a  Quaker,  who  behaved  extremely 
kind.  We  had  a  room  full  of  people,  and  up- 
wards of  twenty  years  after,  I  had  the  happi- 
ness to  find  that  the  word  was  made  effectual 
to  the  conversion  of  a  profligate  sinner. — The 
Lord's  name  be  praised. 

Going  in  business  to  a  place  called  West 
Lavington,  I  could  not  but  pity  the  extreme 
ignorance  of  the  people,  and  promised  I  would 
come  and  preach  to  them.  They  appeared 
very  thankful;  and  accordingly  I  proposed 
Whit-tuesday,  thinking  they  might  be  more 
at  leisure  to  attend.  On  that  day  I  went,  ac- 
companied by  a  great  many  friends  from  our 
town,  Devizes,  and  other  places.  When  the 
hour  of  preaching  arrived,  we  found  the  peo- 
ple occupied  in  bull-baiting,  and  as  we  were 
going  to  the  spot,  either  by  accident,  or  de- 
sign, they  let  the  animal  go  loose ;  we  saw 
him  at  some  distance  from  us  as  furious  as  a 
lion,  and  the  women  began  to  be  much  terri- 
fied, but  no  mischief  ensued ;  he  passed  us  as 
gentle  as  a  lamb.  A  vast  concourse  of  people 
was  assembled.  I  began  the  service,  and  it 
went  on  for  some  time  without  interruption, 
but  when  I  named  my  text  "  repent  and  be- 
lieve the  gospel,"  the  rabble  so  distracted  and 
disturbed  the  congregation,  that  I  found  it 
was  impossible  to  proceed.  I  therefore  post- 
poned what  I  had  to  say  to  another  oppor- 
tunity ;  when,  I  told  them,  I  would  come  and 
preach  from  the  same  text.  All  my  injury 
was  the  soiling  of  my  clothes  with  a  few  rot- 
ten eggs;  I  found  myself  very  happy  through 
the  whole,  and  hope  some  good  was  done,  as 
several  wept  much,  and  desired  me  to  come 
again. 

May  28th.  Was  at  Holt,  three  miles  from 
Trowbridge,  to  hear  Mr.  Rowland  Hill,  who 
preached  under  a  large  tree,  in  the  middle  of 
the  place,  from  Ephesians  v.  14,  and  thus 
commenced  an  acquaintance  and  friendship 
that  has  continued  ever  since,  and  I  hope  will 
for  evermore. 

May  31st.  Preached  at  Broughton  Gifford, 
from  2  Timothy  iii.  12.  and  had  very  great 
liberty  and  love  to  immortal  souls — a  large 
congregation  and  very  attentive. 

June  4th.  Agreeably  to  promise,  went 
again  to  preach  at  West  Lavington.  I  was 
told  on  the  road,  that  the  farmers  had  collect- 
ed a  great  quantity  of  rotten  eggs  to  throw  at 
me,  but  this  had  no  effect  upon  me.  Having 
some  time  to  spare,  I  called  on  Dr.  Stonehouse, 
the  clergyman  of  Chiveral,  (the  intimate 
friend  of  Mr.  Harvey)  about  a  mile  from 


JOHN  CLARK. 

Lavington,  who  prayed  with  me,  and  en- 
couraged me  very  much.  When  I  stood  up 
to  preach,  there  was  a  very  great  company 
of  people,  far  greater  than  the  last  time,  and 
I  had  no  person  to  stand  by  me  but  a  man 
who  seemed  to  have  very  little  knowledge  of 
religion.  But  the  Lord  was  with  me,  and  I 
found  it  better  to  trust  in  him  than  in  an  arm 
of  flesh.  I  preached  from  the  same  text,  and 
the  people  were  all  exceedingly  quiet  and 
attentive  till  I  had  done,  when  one  or  two 
behaved  to  me  with  great  rudeness;  but  1 
bless  the  Lord,  I  was  enabled  to  resent  it  only 
by  wishing  them  the  best  of  blessings  for  time 
and  eternity. 

I  now  found  a  severe  trial  from  some  of  my 
dearest  friends  in  Christ.  I  sincerely  loved 
and  respected  them ;  but  being  very  much  in- 
clined to  Arminianism,  they  were  continually 
teasing  me  on  that  head,  and  would  fain  have 
introduced  these  principles  among  our  little 
flock,  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  withstand  them 
to  the  utmost  of  my  power. 

June  11th.  Heard  Mr.  Cornelius  Winter, 
at  Bradley,  and  found  a  very  great  attachment 
to  him :  he  had  formerly  been  an  attendant  on 
Mr.  Whitefield,  in  his  voyage  to  America. 

The  Lord  was  now  with  us  of  a  truth. 
Seldom  a  week  past,  but  one  or  more  came 
to  inform  me  of  the  effect  of  the  word  on  their 
souls.  Sometimes,  I  have  found  four  or  five 
together  weeping,  and  inquiring  what  they 
must  do  to  be  saved ;  and  what  is  more  re- 
markable, it  was  chiefly  among  those  who  had 
been  very  moral  in  their  conduct,  and  depend- 
ing on  their  own  righteousness. 

The  eve  of  the  Lord's-day  has  frequently 
been  very  precious  to  me  after  my  weekly 
business  has  been  finished,  and  I  have  had  a 
view  of  the  solemnities  of  the  approaching 
sabbath,  and  the  important  work  in  which  1 
was  about  to  engage,  has  deeply  impressed 
my  mind.  I  was  favoured  with  a  particular 
instance  of  this  kind,  Saturday,  July  13th, 
after  being  greatly  affected  with  the  arduous 
service  I  was  employed  in,  and  especially 
with  what  it  would  be,  when  called  to  preach 
in  our  new  chapel  to  such  an  increased  con- 
gregation ;  I  earnestly  besought  the  Lord  to 
give  me  some  encouragement  from  his  holy 
word,  and  opening  the  Bible,  I  was  directed 
to  the  second  chapter  of  Haggai;  and  all  from 
the  first  to  the  ninth  verse,  seemed  so  ex- 
tremely to  the  purpose,  that  I  could  not  but 
be  thankful  and  astonished. 

August  4th.  Went  to  London  and  continued 
about  three  weeks.  Was  highly  feasted  in 
hearing  the  gospel  from  so  many  eminent  and 
pious  ministers,  both  in  the  established  church 
and  out  of  it  I  generally  endeavour  to  be  dis- 
engaged myself,  as  my  labours  at  home  are  so 
abundant ;  and  I  love  to  get  what  I  can  from 
the  diversified  gifts  of  God's  dear  servants. 

November  20th.  We  opened  our  new 
place  of  worship — a  commodious  building: 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


121 


forty  feet  long,  by  thirty  wide — which  we 
called  the  Tabernacle;  for  we  approved  of 
the  sentiments  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  though  he 
had  never  preached  among  us,  nor  had  I  ever 
conversed  with  him,  or  even  heard  him  preach, 
except  once  in  the  church  at  Bradford.  We 
had  very  full  congregations  each  time.  As 
my  brethren  that  were  present  insisted  that 
I  should  preach  the  first  sermon  in  it,  with 
great  reluctance  I  complied,  and  spoke  from 
Ezekiel  xlviii.  35.  Mr.  Roquett,  a  clergy- 
man of  Bristol,  preached  in  the  afternoon, 
from  Psalm  xcix.  15 — 18.  Mr.  Ware,  one 
of  the  countess  of  Huntingdon's  students,  in 
the  evening,  from  Genesis  xxviii.  17.  I  had 
composed  some  suitable  hymns  for  the  occa- 
sion, which  we  sung.  It  was  a  very  blessed 
«lay.  The  utmost  harmony  and  joy  prevailed. 

We  have  now  very  crowded  auditories ; 
and  great  numbers  return  home  again,  not 
being  able  to  get  in.  This  is,  no  doubt,  in  a 
great  measure,  owing  to  novelty  ;  but  yet  it 
is  a  matter  of  thankfulness,  if  any  thing  con- 
duces to  bring  sinners  under  the  word  of  God : 
we  may  hope  it  will  not  prove  in  vain. 

December  19th.  Thursday  evening,  I 
preached  from  Matthew  xxii.  12 ;  and  it  was 
attended  with  a  remarkable  circumstance.  A 
young  person  came  out  of  mere  curiosity  to 
hear,  and  it  pleased  God  to  make  the  word 
the  means  of  convincing  her  of  her  sinful  and 
dangerous  condition — but  it  was  little  thought 
by  her  or  me  at  this  period,  that  we  should 
ever  be  brought  into  so  close  a  connexion  as 
afterwards  took  place :  for  six  or  seven  years 
from  that  period,  she  was  pointed  out  to  me 
for  a  friend  and  companion  through  life.  Con- 
sidering the  result  of  the  occasion,  the  text 
was  singular — "  Friend,  how  comest  thou  in 
hither,  not  having  on  a  wedding  garment." 

This  has  been  a  very  important  year  of  my 
life,  and  of  the  cause  of  God  in  this  place. 
Hundreds  of  my  town's  people,  of  all  sorts 
crowd  to  hear  the  word  of  God :  some  for  the 
benefit  of  their  precious  souls,  and  some  to 
ridicule  and  scoff.  Many  of  the  greatest  pro- 
fligates of  the  town,  and  military  officers  who 
are  stationed  here,  come  among  the  rest.  We 
have  been  threatened  with  disturbance,  but 
is  has  never  been  permitted.  My  worldly 
friends  and  relations  would  fain  dissuade  me 
from  exerting  myself  so  much,  under  an  ap- 
prehension that  it  will  be  injurious  to  my 
health,  but  I  do  not  find  that  I  am  hurt  by  it 
If  I  was,  surely  the  eternal  salvation  of  one 
soul  is  of  far  greater  importance  than  a  few 
years'  preservation  of  bodily  health — yet  I 
would  not  be  imprudent,  or  presumptuous. 
Lord,  be  thou  my  director  and  protector. 

Christmas-day.  Preached  three  times  as 
usual.  In  the  evening,  I  found  a  young  mi- 
nister, Mr.  Rippen,  of  the  Baptist  persuasion; 
I  went  to  him  after  service,  and  begged  he 
would  preach  for  me  the  morrow  evening, 
especially  as  my  engagements  were  rather 
Q  11 


this  week  extraordinary.  He  readily  con- 
sented; but  some  of  the  Baptist  brethren  dis- 
suaded him  from  it ! — O !  how  much  mischief 
does  bigotry  for  forms  occasion  to  Christian 
love  and  fellowship.  Friday  I  went  and 
heard  Mr.  Rippen,  at  the  Baptist  meeting, 
from  Matthew  xxv.  6.  a  very  good  discourse ; 
he  appears  to  be  a  very  lively  and  zealous 
preacher. 

1772,  January  1st.  Began  the  new  year 
at  Melksham,  where  I  preached  from  Reve- 
lations xxi.  5. — "  Behold,  I  make  all  things 
new." 

January  8.  I  began  this  evening  catechis- 
ing the  children  on  a  week  night,  as  my 
time  on  the  Lord's-day  is  too  much  occupied 
to  attend  to  it.  The  Lord  has  graciously 
owned  this  part  of  my  office  to  several  chil- 
dren, some  of  whom  have  afterwards  joined 
the  church,  and  made  a  good  confession. 

January  9th.  A  company  of  young  per- 
sons applied  to  me  to  grant  the  use  of  the 
meeting  on  a  week-day  morning,  to  assemble 
together  for  prayer.  Happy  was  I  to  grant 
their  request.  O  !  what  a  delightful  thing  to 
seek  the  Lord  in  the  days  of  our  youth. 

I  think  we  have  reason  to  believe  the  Lord 
is  smiling  on  our  attempts  to  diffuse  the  know- 
ledge of  his  precious  salvation  :  his  word — 
his  spirit — and  his  providence  concur  in  en- 
couraging us  to  proceed.  A  striking  instance 
he  has  given  us  of  the  latter.  Our  kind 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Turner,  were  surprised 
on  their  taking  stock  this  Christmas,  to  find 
that  they  had  gained  the  last  year  more  than 
sufficient  to  defray  the  expense  of  the  build- 
ing, besides  what  they  had  expended  in  house- 
keeping, though  they  had  gained  no  more, 
they  imagine,  by  their  business  before,  than 
barely  the  expenses  of  their  family  :  nor  is 
his  hand  less  visible  in  blessing  the  word 
preached.  Persons  of  all  descriptions  are 
continually  coming  to  me  to  declare  what  the 
Lord  has  done  for  their  souls ;  some  convin- 
ced of  their  sinful  state,  and  wishing  to  know 
how  they  shall  be  saved ;  and  some  to  ex- 
press the  joy  and  consolation  they  have  re- 
ceived under  the  gospel.  There  are  seven 
or  eight  of  the  most  notorious  sinners  in  the 
town,  who  were  drunkards,  swearers,  sabbath- 
breakers,  and  even  a  terror  to  their  neighbours 
by  their  wickedness,  who  now  constantly  at- 
tend, and  are  now  reformed  from  their  abomi- 
nable ways,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  around 
them. — Glory  be  to  God  for  his  wonderful 
works  to  the  children  of  men ! 

As  we  have  erected  the  standard  of  the 
gospel  in  the  town,  and,  as  it  were,  pitched 
our  camp,  so  I  determine  now  in  the  strength 
of  the  Lord  to  storm  the  devil's  out-posts.  For 
this  purpose,  I  intend  going  round  the  coun- 
try villages  more  and  more. 

I  find  I  am  much  censured  by  formal  pro- 
fessors for  preaching  without  doors  ;  and  my 
relations  account  it  mean  and  degrading;  but 


122  MEMOIRS  OF 

surely  I  have  the  example  of  the  holiest  cha- 
racter, and  the  greatest  teacher  that  ever  was : 
and  I  hope,  I  have  the  approbation  of  God  and 
my  own  conscience.  I  desire  nothing  but  to 
glorify  his  blessed  name. 

O  how  great  is  my  satisfaction  and  plea- 
sure to  observe  my  father  and  sister,  and  other 
relations  among  the  crowd !  I  hope  the  Lord 
will  have  mercy  upon  them.  My  father  now 
comes  to  hear  me  constantly,  though  so  se- 
vere against  me  at  first. 

June  3.  Went  again  to  Westaston,  and 
stood  on  an  tipping  stock  in  the  street  and 
preached.  At  first,  my  pride  seemed  to  be 
hurt  at  the  censure  and  contempt  that  I  should 
incur  from  many  of  my  fellow-creatures,  but 
when  I  considered  the  dignity  and  import- 
ance of  the  work  I  was  engaged  in,  I  lost 
these  degrading  thoughts,  and  was  content 
to  become  a  fool  for  Christ  I  came  home 
with  some  of  Studly-Green,  to  whom  my  mi- 
nistry had  been  blessed ;  and  was  greatly 
pleased  to  hear  that  they  had  consented  to 
meet  together  regularly  to  sing  and  pray  at 
each  other's  houses:  some  of 'them  had  been 
notoriously  wicked. — Called  to  visit  a  person 
extremely  ill  in  the  small  pox ;  there  was  a 
room  full  of  people.  I  read  a  chapter  and 
prayed  with  them.  The  poor  woman  has 
been  very  wicked,  and  is  dreadfully  terrified 
at  the  thought  of  dying. — O  !  what  a  mercy 
is  it  to  be  possessed  of  a  good  hope  through 
grace. 

June  22d.  At  Southwick-Green,  a  great 
company ;  and  no  disturbance,  but  a  few  per- 
sons talking  at  a  distance.  After  preaching, 
I  went  and  reasoned  with  them ;  and  they 
seemed  very  much  abashed. — Alas !  if  they 
cannot  stand  before  the  reproof  of  a  fellow- 
mortal,  how  will  they  abide  the  day  of  his 
coming,  who  trieth  the  heart  and  the  reins  ! 

July  5th.  After  preaching  this  evening, 
my  heart  was  much  comforted  and  encour- 
aged by  the  great  love  and  respect  shown  me. 
Both  sides  of  the  way  were  lined  by  people, 
who  strove  which  could  express  the  greatest 
regard.  The  sermon  seemed  a  general 
blessing;  and  one  person  in  particular  said, 
he  would  not  have  but  heard  it  for  a  £1000. 
This  the  Lord  has  designed,  perhaps,  as  a 
counterbalance  to  some  grievous  scandals 
that  have  been  cast  upon  me  the  week  past : 
I  know  they  are  unfounded,  but  I  know  also 
that  Satan  bears  me  no  good  will. 

July  22d.  Visited  one  of  our  members — 
an  aged  gentlewoman  who  seems  near  her 
end,  and  was  much  refreshed  to  see  her  spirit 
so  calm  and  resigned — either  to  live  or  die. 

July  29th.     At  Hilperton-Marsh.  The 

clergyman  of  the  parish,  and  Mr.  B  y,  the 

justice  of  the  peace,  and  his  wife  and  family 
were  among  my  hearers,  who  behaved  with 

the  greatest  respect  and  civility.  Mr.  B  y 

afterward  invited  me  to  go  into  his  house  and 
take  some  refreshment. 


JOHN  CLARK. 

September  19th,  Saturday.  Have  reason 
to  admire  the  goodness  of  the  Lord  in  carry- 
ing me  through  such  a  multiplicity  of  labours 
this  week,  exclusive  of  my  attention  to  trade. 
Yet  I  bless  his  name,  I  feel  myself  well  and 
happy. 

November  1st.  Our  society  being  now 
very  considerably  increased,  I  thought  it 
right  to  call  them  together,  to  recognize  our 
former  covenant  as  a  church  of  Christ ;  and 
to  engage  anew  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  it  to 
each  other.  I  told  them  I  was  at  their  ser- 
vice, but  I  would  rather,  if  they  approved  of 
it,  resign  up  my  office  to  any  pastor  they 
should  choose.  This  proposal  threw  them  all 
into  tears,  and  they  unanimously  and  most 
earnestly  entreated  me  still  to  take  the  care 
of  them.  I  then  pointed  out  some  of  the  duties 
they  owed  to  their  minister  and  to  each 
other  ;  and  asked  if  they  chose  to  continue 
me  as  their  pastor  upon  those  conditions — if 
so,  they  would  signify  it  by  lifting  up  their 
hands,  which  they  all  instantly  and  solemnly 
did,  while  I  prayed  to  God  to  confirm  us  and 
bless  us  as  a  church  of  his  own. 

I  have  been  lately  much  encouraged  by 
visiting  two  old  dying  Christians,  who  ex- 
pressed themselves  very  happy  at  the  pros- 
pect of  death. 

November  20th,  we  kept  as  the  anniver- 
sary of  opening  our  place  of  worship.  I 
preached  morning  and  evening ;  Mr.  Roquett 
in  the  afternoon. 

A  great  many  persons  are  now  offering 
themselves  to  be  joined  to  us  in  Christian  fel- 
lowship; but  we  are  exceedingly  cautious 
whom  we  admit.  They  undergo  the  strictest 
examination,  first  by  me  privately,  then  by  the 
whole  church.  Yet  after  all,  it  is  to  be 
feared  some  unworthy  communicants  will 
creep  in. 

Thursday  being  the  last  day  of  the  year, 
I  took  for  my  text  Psalm  cii.  25 — 27,  and 
do  not  recollect  ever  closing  a  year  with 
such  solemnity  before.  Many  have  been  the 
mercies  of  the  past  year — may  the  ensuing 
be  marked  by  more  abundant  diligence  in  the 
ways  of  the  Lord. 

1773.  Hitherto,  we  had  gone  on  in  per- 
fect harmony  with  respect  to  points  of  doc- 
trine. For  as  we  were  originally  of  the 
Church  of  England,  we  all  firmly  held  the 
tenets  of  it,  usually  called  Calvinistic,  as  ex- 
pressed in  her  public  prayers  and  the  thirty- 
nine  articles.  But  now  one  of  our  dear 
friends,  and  who  had  great  authority  among 
us,  having  become  acquainted  with  some 
pious  relations,  who  were  among  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's people,  and  were  very  strenuous  advo- 
cates for  Arminianism,  she  was  tinctured 
herself,  and  sought  every  occasion  to  intro- 
duce the  principles  among  us.  She  not  only 
pressed  us  to  admit  persons  who  held  these 
sentiments  as  members  of  our  church,  but 
whenever  any  popular  preacher  among  them 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


123 


made  his  appearance,  she  endeavoured  to 
bring  him  forward ;  and  as  our  place  of  wor- 
ship was  not  yet  vested  in  the  hands  of  trus- 
tees, but  still  continued  in  the  sole  power  of 
one  individual,  we  could  not  always  avoid 
the  preaching  of  such  men  among  us.  This 
has  often  been  a  source  of  great  uneasiness 
to  us.  One  of  them,  a  captain,  at  this  time 
preaching  about  the  country,  and  by  -his 
regimentals,  and  the  violence  of  his  manner, 
having  rendered  himself  popular,  our  deap, 
but  mistaken  sister  would  needs  invite  to 
preach,  and  would  not  be  persuaded  to  the 
contrary.  He  preached  several  times:  his 
preaching  was  exceedingly  contradictory — 
tending  greatly  to  distress  tender  consciences, 
and  distract  those  who  were  unsettled  in  their 
minds:  he  asserted  that  Christians  might  be 
perfect  in  this  life — that  they  must  know  the 
exact  time  and  even  place  where  they  were 
justified — yea,  that  they  could  not  be  Chris- 
tians without  it — that  those  who  believed 
never  doubted  afterwards.  I  took  an  oppor- 
tunity, and  with  much  tenderness,  pointed 
out  his  mistakes  to  him,  which  he  seemed  to 
take  kindly ;  but  my  dear  cousin  very  much 
resented  it  afterwards,  which  caused  me  great 
uneasiness. 

March  21st.  Have  just  heard  of  the  death 
of  a  person  who  has  left  a  glorious  testimony 
to  the  power  of  the  gospel.  He  was  formerly 
a  very  wicked  character.  About  six  years 
ago,  I  visited  him  in  a  dangerous  fit  of  sick- 
ness. He  was  than  horribly  afraid  of  death, 
and  made  many  protestations  of  amendment 
should  it  please  God  to  spare  him. — It  pleased 
God  to  spare  him  and  he  became  more  wicked 
than  ever — not  only  a  drunkard  and  profane 
swearer,  but  took  every  opportunity  to  ridi- 
cule religion.  About  a  year  and  a  half  ago, 
he  came  scoffing  to  hear  me ;  but  the  Lord 
was  pleased  to  put  a  stop  to  his  scoffing,  and 
sent  him  home  deeply  convicted  of  his  un- 
happy condition.  But  he  was  soon  relieved 
by  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus :  and  has  since 
been  abundant  in  offices  of  love,  and  patient 
endurance  of  tribulation  for  the  sake  of  his 
profession.  He  was  very  assiduous  in  visiting 
the  sick,  and  has  sometimes  sat  up  with  them 
all  night.  He  now  was  very  faithful  in  re- 
proving his  old  companions  in  sin ;  and  for 
this  he  gained  many  a  scoff  from  them,  which 
he  bore  with  meekness  and  fortitude,  espe- 
cially the  abuses  and  extravagancies  of  a 
drunken  and  wicked  wife.  I  visited  him  in 
his  last  moments ;  but  found  a  pleasing  con- 
trast to  what  I  had  observed  in  his  former 
illness.  He  was  then  dreadfully  afraid  of 
death,  but  now  he  said  his  greatest  comfort 
was  to  think  he  was  so  near  it. 

April  4th.  I  have  been  this  afternoon 
called  to  another  important  part  of  my  office. 
Five  of  my  brethren's  children  were  brought 
for  baptism,  and  I  baptized  them  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a  very  large  and  solemn  assembly. 


As  I  judge  we  should  not  engage  in  any  thing 
of  a  religious  nature  without  being  thoroughly 
convinced  in  our  own  mind  of  the  propriety 
of  it,  and  without  being  able  to  give  some 
reasons  for  it  to  the  public,  I  wrote  out  a  ser- 
mon and  read  it.  It  was  greatly  satisfactory 
to  those  who  heard  it,  and  I  was  much  soli- 
cited to  publish  it ;  but  I  declined  it,  fearing 
it  might  subject  me  to  a  controversy  with  my 
Baptist  friends,  which  I  wish  by  all  means 
to  avoid. 

April  18th.  Hitherto  we  had  made  use 
of  a  box  with  an  opening  in  the  lid,  for  our 
contributions  to  the  poor  and  sick  members 
of  our  church,  and  others  occasionally ;  but 
not  finding  this  mode  sufficient,  we  this  after- 
noon made  a  collection  at  the  Lord's  table, 
and  were  pleased  to  find  the  cheerfulness 
with  which  every  one  seemed  ready  to  give. 
This  mode  we  have  continued  ever  since. 

May  9th.  I  began  my  summer  excursions 
into  the  country  villages,  and  preached  at 
Simington. 

August  7th.  Was  invited  to  preach  at 
Frome,  my  native  place.  At  first,  it  appeared 
formidable  to  think  of  preaching  to  my  old 
play-fellows  and  acquaintances ;  and  yet  I 
have  had  a  desire  to  declare  to  them  what 
God  hath  done  for  my  soul. 

I  have  lately  had  a  sight  of  Mahomet's 
Alcoran.  How  infatuated  must  rational 
creatures  be  to  believe  such  shocking  ab- 
surdities. I  bless  my  God,  this  book  has 
greatly  tended  to  endear  my  Bible. 

November  17th.  Second  anniversary.  1 
preached  in  the  morning  from  Psalm  cxviii. 
15.  Mr.  Roquett  in  the  afternoon,  from  1 
Thessalonians  v.  16.  In  the  evening,  Mr. 
Marshman,  Baptist  minister,  from  Haggai  i. 
5.  Blessed  be  God,  it  has  been  a  joyful  fes- 
tivity. Mr.  Roquett  also  preached  Thursday 
and  Friday  evenings.  We  parted  Saturday 
morning  with  great  regret. — O !  when  shall 
the  day  come  that  we  shall  part  no  more. — 
Thus  we  have  concluded  another  year. 
Great  have  been  our  trials,  and  great  our 
mercies :  and  we  have  had  very  considerable 
additions  to  our  little  society,  of  such  as,  1 
hope,  will  be  eventually  saved. 

1774,  January  2d.  I  this  morning  began 
expounding  the  assembly's  catechism.  I  in- 
tend to  go  through  it  by  taking  a  question 
every  Sunday  morning.  I  teach  it  to  the 
children,  and  esteem  it  an  excellent  form  of 
sound  words. 

This  week  past,  I  have  been  a  good  deal 
engaged  by  a  curious  emblematical  drawing 
that  I  have  sketched  out,  representing  the 
chain  of  blessings  which  Paul  enumerates  in 
Romans  viii.  29,  30.  I  have  some  thoughts 
of  publishing  it,  as  I  hope  God  may  see  good 
to  make  it  a  blessing  to  others  as  he  has  to 
me. 

April  13th.  Went  to  the  sessions  at  De- 
vizes, to  get  myself  licensed  as  a  preacher. 


124  MEMOIRS  OP 

I  have  hitherto  been  licensed  by  the  King  of 
kings  only,  but  being  in  danger  of  some  parish 
offices,  which  would  be  extremely  inconve- 
nient to  me  as  a  preacher,  I  thought  it  pru- 
dent to  sue  for  the  protection  of  the  legislature. 

April  17th.  We  met  to  choose  a  deacon 
in  the  room  of  one  who  has  forfeited  his  place 
by  some  imprudent  step.  We  conformed  as 
much  as  we  could  to  the  primitive  mode :  I 
proposed  two  to  the  church,  whom  I  thought 
the  most  eligible,  and  then  we  prayed  and 
drew  lots. 

July  24th.  We  examined  nine  persons, 
who  were  unanimously  admitted  into  the 
church. 

October  9th.  We  met  on  the  painful  bu- 
siness of  examining  into  the  conduct  of  a 
brother  and  his  wife,  for  several  charges 
brought  against  them,  and  especially  their 
unchristian  behaviour  towards  each  other; 
which  being  proved  to  be  true,  we  suspended 
them  from  their  church  privileges,  till  they 
should  amend  their  conduct,  and  live  peace- 
ably together.  They  submitted  to  the  cen- 
sure in  a  very  becoming  manner. 

October  14th.  We  assembled  according  to 
appointment  to  humble  ourselves  before  God 
in  fasting  and  prayer,  and  to  confess  our  sins 
as  a  church,  and  also  to  entreat  him  to  re- 
store our  lapsed  friends,  and  to  give  them 
repentance.  Many  of  the  brethren  prayed. 
It  was  a  solemn  and  affecting  opportunity. 

November  17th.  Our  third  anniversary. 
I  preached  in  the  morning — Mr.  Roquett  in 
the  afternoon — Mr.  Woolmar  in  the  evening. 
The  congregations  were  great,  and  love  and 
unity  prevailed  among  all  parties. 

In  consequence  of  an.  act  of  parliament 
for  calling  in  the  light  gold,  the  weighing  of 
money  is  become  a  very  common  and  neces- 
sary employment.  This  suggested  the  hint 
of  writing  a  little  piece,  called  the  Coin- Act, 
which  has  occupied  much  of  my  time  this 
week,  which  Mr.  Hill  advised  me  to  publish, 
offering  to  write  a  recommendatory  preface ; 
which  I  consented  to  do. 

1775,  January  23d.  I  have  been  this 
week  attending  a  course  of  philosophical  lec- 
tures and  experiments.  Hope  I  have  gained 
much  instruction,  and  been  helped  to  admire 
the  works  of  nature,  and  adore  their  great 
Author. 

June  12th.  This  morning  at  four  o'clock, 
set  out  for  London.  A  person  who  owes  me 
a  great  deal  more  than  I  at  present  possess, 
is  likely  to  become  a  bankrupt.  I  am  likely 
to  lose  all  I  have  in  the  world,  though  I  thank 
God,  I  shall  hope  to  be  able  to  pay  all  to 
whom  I  owe  any  thing.  This  has  been  a 
severe  trial,  yet  I  doubt  not  but  all  is  well : 
we  must  not  trust  in  uncertain  riches,  but  in 
the  living  God. 

I  had  the  curiosity  to  see  a  Popish  mass, 
and  I  hope  I  was  thankful  for  our  reformation. 

July  28th.    We  this  evening  buried  the 


JOHN  CLARK. 

remains  of  a  gray-headed  brother,  who  has 
been  an  honourable  member  ever  since  the 
commencement  of  our  society.  He  was  a 
poor  Christian,  but  noble-spirited — true  to  his 
profession,  and  patient  in  affliction. 

The  present  times  are  very  alarming. 
War  between  the  mother  country  and  the 
colonies;  an  earthquake  felt  over  a  great 
part  of  England,  and  the  excessive  rains  that 
have  spoiled  a  great  part  of  the  corn  in  the 
ground,  threatening  a  famine;  I  thought  it 
my  duty  to  appoint  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer,  which  we  kept  Friday,  22d  Septem- 
ber. In  order  not  to  break  in  upon  the  la- 
bours of  the  poor,  we  met  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning  for  one  hour,  and  at  ten,  and  at 
two,  and  at  seven,  when  I  preached  from 
Isaiah  lv.  6,  7. — O  may  the  Lord  hear  and 
answer  our  petitions  for  a  guilty  land. 

September  24th.  Visited  a  very  great 
persecutor  at  Hilperton.  He  is  dangerously 
ill,  and  sent  for  me  to  pray  with  him.  No- 
thing shows  the  reality  of  religion  more  than 
such  instances  as  this,  when  even  the  des- 
pisers  of  it  in  their  last  extremity,  seek  the 
prayers  of  those  whom  they  have  despised. 
I  was  enabled  to  speak  faithfully  to  him,  but 
am  afraid  he  is  not  properly  acquainted  with 
the  state  of  his  soul. 

November  9th  was  kept  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  goodness  of  God,  in  giving  us  a 
place  for  his  worship.  This  is  the  fourth  an- 
niversary. 

Thus  have  we  finished  another  year.  It 
has  been  a  year  of  peculiar  trials  to  me  both 
in  the  world  and  in  the  church.  Yet  it  has 
pleased  the  Lord  to  bless  the  word  exceed- 
ingly, and  we  have  had  seventeen  members 
added. — The  Lord's  name  be  praised  for  all 
his  mercies. 

1776.  I  have  sometimes,  of  late,  been  led 
to  think  whether  the  Lord  may  not  be  about 
to  remove  me  to  some  other  part  of  his  vine- 
yard. If  my  business  does  not  succeed  to 
afford  me  a  maintenance,  and  should  I  be  re- 
duced, there  is  no  probability  that  the  people 
among  whom  I  labour  could  afford  me  sup- 
port, as  they  have  been  used  to  have  the  gos- 
pel preached  to  them  free  of  any  expense ; 
and  I  have  lately  experienced  some  instances 
of  their  backwardness  in  things  like  these. 
I  would  be  entirely  at  the  disposal  of  my 
heavenly  Father,  and  go  wherever  he  directs ; 
or  stay  and  suffer  his  will  here. 

February  14th.  The  urgency  of  my  af- 
fairs has  called  me  again  to  London,  and  I 
set  off*  this  day.  On  Sunday  evening  before 
I  left  home,  I  preached  from  Philippians  i. 
27.  I  addressed  the  people  with  the  greatest 
affection,  not  knowing  that  it  might  please 
God  to  continue  me  any  longer  among  them. 
They  were  extremely  affected,  and  many  of 
them  got  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
to  take  their  leave  of  me. — May  the  will  of 
the  Lord  be  done. 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


125 


March  13th.  Came  home,  and  the  people 
received  me  affectionately,  and  I  found  a 
better  spirit  among  some  of  them  than  when 
I  left  them.  Had  a  great  deal  of  fatigue 
while  in  town ;  and  it  is  now  certain  I  shall 
lose  the  greatest  part  of  my  property;  but 
yet  I  hope  I  have  been  enabled  to  form  some 
advantageous  connexions,  which  may  per- 
haps in  time  compensate  for  the  loss  I  have 
sustained.  I  published  while  in  London,  my 
Golden  Chain  of  Salvation. 

April  3d.  The  church  met  to  inquire  into 
the  conduct  of  one  of  our  members,  who  has 
been  accused  of  dishonesty,  in  clandestinely 
taking  her  master's  coal  without  his  know- 
ledge. Three  persons  came  to  testify  to  her 
honesty,  but  she  herself  confessing  that  once 
she  did  take  a  small  lump  of  coal  without  in- 
tention to  return  it  again;  we  gave  her  a 
severe  reprehension,  and  she  received  it  in  a 
christian-like  manner. 

Sunday,  April  14th.  Preached  three  times 
at  Marlborough;  baptized  a  child,  and  ad- 
ministered the  Lord's  supper.  I  was  pleased 
to  see  the  godly  zeal  of  the  people,  in  re- 
fusing to  let  a  person  sit  down  at  the  Lord's 
table  among  them  who  was  accused  of  deal- 
ing in  smuggled  goods.  Coming  back  next 
day  over  the  downs,  I  observed  a  poor  sheep 
lying  in  a  very  weak  condition.  As  I  over- 
took the  shepherd  with  the  rest  of  the  flock, 
I  asked  him  why  he  left  that  poor  feeble 
creature  behind :  he  said  it  could  not  follow 
the  rest,  and  was  not  worth  taking  care  of. 
This  struck  my  mind,  and  as  I  was  to  preach 
at  Devizes  in  the  evening,  I  chose  for  my 
text  John  x.  11.  and  endeavoured,  by  way  of 
contrast,  to  point  out  the  good  shepherd. 

May  12th.  I  have  been  obliged  to  preach 
four  times  to-day.  I  do  not  find  that  it  has 
hurt  me,  but  it  is  too  much  to  be  continued. 
Have  also  preached  four  times  in  the  week 
evenings  following.  But  can  we  do  too  much 
for  so  kind  a  Master,  and  for  the  salvation  of 
such  valuable  treasure  as  the  souls  of  men] 

November  4th.  Could  not  sleep  this  morn- 
ing, for  reflecting  on  the  unhappy  differences 
that  subsisted  among  the  Baptists  of  our  town, 
so  as  to  shut  up  their  meeting  for  these  three 
weeks  past  I  found  it  much  on  my  mind  to 
write  them  a  letter  to  entreat  them  to  be  re- 
conciled. I  sent  it  by  one  of  their  members, 
and  I  hope  it  had  a  good  effect,  for  on  the 
Wednesday  following,  they  met  to  accommo- 
date matters. 

November  20th.  Was  at  Bristol,  to  attend 
the  funeral  of  my  dear  friend,  Mr.  Roquett, 
who  died  the  16th  instant,  universally  es- 
teemed and  lamented.  I  was  extremely  af- 
fected by  the  regard  shown  to  his  memory 
by  all  ranks,  which  I  have  endeavoured  to 
express  in  an  elegy  on  the  occasion.  The 
next  day  we  kept  our  fifth  anniversary,  ren- 
dered more  solemn  by  his  death,  who  had 
assisted  in  the  dedication  of  the  place.  My 
11* 


text  in  the  morning  was  Revelations  vii.  13 
— 17.  In  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Sloper  preached 
from  Psalm  ciii.  1 — 5.  And  in  the  evening, 
Mr.  Rowland  Hill  from  Nehemiah  viii.  10. 
We  had  with  us  to  day  ten  or  twelve  minis- 
ters of  different  denominations. 

December  13th,  was  kept  as  a  general 
fast.  We  had  service  three  times,  and  in  the 
morning  I  exhorted  the  people  to  go  to  the 
parish  church,  and  we  went  to  approve  our 
loyalty  to  our  king,  and  love  to  our  country. 

Christmas-day,  preached  at  home  three 
times,  and  I  hope  we  can  say  we  experienced 
in  the  best  sense  of  the  words — a  merry 
Christmas. 

Ours  is  the  best  cheer, 
No  surfeit  we  fear, 

Insatiate  enjoyment  is  temperance  here. 

Thus  are  the  labours  and  trials  of  another 
year  ended.  Many  important  events  have 
taken  place.  The  Lord  has  seen  good  to  de- 
prive me  of  my  worldly  dependencies,  by 
permitting  a  very  great  loss  to  befall  me  in 
trade  ;  and  also  a  relation  to  sell  from  me  an 
estate  that  would  have  fallen  to  me.  But  all 
shall  be  well. 

1777.  January  5th.  I  began  the  first 
Sabbath  in  this  year  by  taking  a  text  out  of 
the  first  Psalm.  I  mean  to  do  this  regularly 
out  of  all  the  Psalms  of  a  Lord's-day  morn- 
ing, till  I  have  gone  through  the  whole  book. 
I  began  also  reading  the  first  chapter  of  Ge- 
nesis, and  the  first  of  Matthew,  and  I  intend 
to  read  through  the  whole  Bible  and  Testa- 
ment. 

February  10th.  We  received  into  the 
church  this  morning  thirteen  members.  An- 
other had  applied,  but  being  accused  of  some 
imprudences,  we  judged  it  proper  to  let  him 
wait  a  little  longer. 

April  16th.  Had  another  disagreeable 
meeting,  which  was  convened  this  evening, 
to  inquire  into  the  behaviour  of  a  member 
and  his  wife.  Only  the  husband  attended, 
and  for  want  of  his  wife's  evidence,  we  could 
not  fully  ascertain  the  truth ;  but  they  were 
both  set  aside  from  the  Lord's  table — the  one 
from  his  own  confession — the  other  for  con- 
tempt, till  they  should  be  sensible  of  their 
faults,  and  acknowledge  them.  I  had  many 
times  called  upon  them  privately,  and  en- 
deavoured to  accommodate  matters,  till  it 
grew  so  notorious  and  offensive,  as  to  need 
the  interposition  of  the  church. 

July  13th.  Visited  a  woman  who  appears 
to  be  very  near  death,  but  is  exceedingly 
happy.  She  died  next  morning,  and  Tuesday 
following  was  interred  in  our  burial  ground. 
She  desired  me  to  preach  a  sermon  on  the 
occasion ;  but  as  she  named  no  text,  I  made 
the  corpse  itself  my  text,  and  mortality  my 
subject. 

.  November  16th.  Received  in  seven  mem- 
bers, who  were  all  unanimously  approved  of. 


128 


MEMOIRS  OP  JOHN  CLARK. 


— Blessed  be  God  for  his  abundant  goodness 
to  us  this  year.  He  has  brought  us  into 
favour  with  his  dear  ministers  and  people ; 
united  us  more  together  in  brotherly  affec- 
tion; and  added  to  our  number  twenty-five 
souls. 

1778.  February  27th  being  set  apart,  by 
government,  for  a  day  of  humiliation,  we  met 
as  usual  in  the  morning  at  seven  o'clock, 
two  in  the  afternoon,  and  half-past  five  in  the 
evening;  besides  which,  I  exhorted  the  peo- 
ple in  the  morning  to  go  to  the  parish  church, 
to  show  our  loyalty  and  Christian  love. 

March  26th.  Have  this  day  another  bless- 
ing to  thank  God  for.  I  am  now  commenced 
housekeeper,  and  have  removed  to  a  most 
delightful  spot,  suited  to  my  taste,  in  a  field 
near  a  river,  with  beautiful  prospects  all 
around. — O  may  my  prospects  of  a  better 
world  never  be  obscured  by  too  great  an  at- 
tachment to  this. 

May  7th.  Took  a  little  trip  with  my  dear 
friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  T.  in  a  chaise  to  Lon- 
don, where  we  stayed  a  week,  and  then  pur- 
sued our  journey  to  Olney,  in  Buckingham- 
shire, on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Newton,  and  to  be  at 
the  wedding  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Jones, 
which  was  solemnized  the  next  day  by  Mr. 
Newton.  We  found  great  affection  and  kind- 
ness from  all,  and  returned  home  through 
Oxfordshire  and  Berkshire,  Saturday  even- 
ing.— Blessed  be  the  Lord  our  God,  who  has 
carried  us  out  and  brought  us  home  again  in 
safety.  While  at  London,  I  preached  at 
many  places. 

June  14th.  Expounded  the  seventy-first 
Psalm — a  Psalm  that  has  been  peculiarly 
blessed  to  my  soul,  and  which  I  have  fre- 
quently called,  by  way  of  appropriation,  my 
Psalm.  It  contains  the  whole  of  my  expe- 
rience from  the  day  I  began  to  preach  to  the 
present  hour.  It  always  seems  new  to  me 
whenever  I  read  it;  and  I  have  often  re- 
ceived inexpressible  consolation  from  it — O 
that  when  I  am  old  and  gray-headed,  I  may 
not  be  forsaken — and  may  I  be  enabled  to 
talk  of  the  righteousness  of  God  all  the  day 
long. 

June  21st.  Preached  before  breakfast  at 
our  own  place,  and  afterwards  went  over  to 
Frome,  and  heard  a  sermon  at  church,  from 
my  old  master,  the  Reverend  P.  Mason ;  and 
in  the  evening  preached  at  Rook-Lane  Meet- 
ing, to  a  very  great  congregation. 

July  27th.  We  assembled  according  to 
previous  notice  given,  to  investigate  the  con- 
duct of  one  of  our  deacons  accused  of  in- 
toxication. He  was  desired  to  attend,  but 
did  not.  The  charges  against  him  being 
fully  proved,  he  was  put  from  his  office,  and 
the  Lord's  table,  till  he  should  discover  re- 
pentance. Another  person  who  had  been 
suspended  some  time  back,  came  and  con- 
fessed his  faults,  and  acknowledged  that  he 
was  extremely  grieved  for  what  he  had 


done,  and  was  restored  to  the  peace  of  the 
church. 

August  23d.  Received  into  the  church 
four  members,  and 

September  6th,  five  more;  all  of  whom, 
giving  a  good  account  of  their  faith  in  Christ, 
and  being  irreproachable  in  their  practice, 
were  admitted  joyfully  by  unanimous  suf- 
frage. 

October  26th.  Riding  by  Tyburn,  in  my 
return  from  London,  I  was  greatly  affected 
with  the  sight  of  two  malefactors  that  were 
executing.  I  was  told,  seven  more  were 
hung  there  last  Monday. — O  what  a  mercy 
to  be  preserved  from  those  atrocious  sins  that 
bring  men  to  such  a  disgraceful  end.  But, 
alas !  though  my  sins  have  not  exposed  me  to 
the  punishment  of  the  gallows,  yet  they  have 
rendered  me  worthy  of  the  damnation  of 
hell. — O !  how  can  I  sufficiently  value  the 
all-sufficient  sacrifice  that  has  been  a  pro- 
pitiation for  my  sin,  and  procured  for  me 
eternal  salvation. 

1779.  As  it  has  pleased  my  Heavenly 
Father  to  give  me  an  habitation  of  my  own 
the  year  past,  and  also  to  give  a  favourable 
turn  to  my  worldly  affairs,  I  see  it  my  duty 
to  look  out  for  a  suitable  companion  for  life, 
a  help-meet  to  assist  me  both  in  my  temporal 
and  spiritual  concerns.  I  have  therefore  this 
day,  Tuesday,  January  5th,  after  the  most 
mature  deliberation  and  earnest  prayer,  pro- 
posed the  matter  to  a  Christian  friend  for  her 
approbation.  She  is  one  who  is,  I  hope,  both 
pious  and  discreet,  "  a  partaker  of  the  benefit." 
She  is  already  my  child  and  my  sister;  and  1 
hope  soon  to  make  her  my  wife. 

My  engaging  in  trade,  for  my  temporal 
support,  is  certainly  attended  with  many  ad- 
vantages.   It  enables  me  to  preach  the  gos- 
pel without  charge ;  and  rendering  me  inde- 
pendent of  the  people,  it  emboldens  me  to 
deliver  the  truth  with  greater  freedom.  It 
also  tends  to  stop  the  mouth  of  the  scoffing 
infidel,  who  would  gladly  represent  all  the 
ministers  of  Christ  as  preaching  from  mer- 
cenary views.    Besides  which,  being  in  busi- 
ness enables  a  man  to  judge  of  the  real 
characters  and  dispositions  of  people,  better 
than  he  can  learn  them  by  theory  or  informa- 
tion ;  and  he  is  thereby  helped  to  address  them 
in  a  more  pointed  and  experimental  way. 
Yet  many  and  great  are  the  difficulties  to 
which  a  minister  of  this  description  is  neces- 
sarily exposed ;  especially  if  his  business  be 
of  the  manufacturing  kind,  and  he  employs 
many  of  the  vulgar  and  low-bred  people,  who 
are  often  actuated  by  the  most  selfish  and 
illiberal  motives.    I  have  lately  had  many 
very  striking  proofs  of  this.    Many  unjust 
slanders  have  been  propagated  about  me; 
many  take  the  advantage  of  my  being  a 
preacher  to  impose  upon  me ;  and  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  make  that  advantage  of  my  busi- 
ness as  another  person  can.    Some  to  whom 


MEMOIRS  OF 

I  preach  the  gospel  freely,  even  spoil  my 
work.  This  often  gives  me  uneasiness,  and 
tends  to  check  my  labour  of  love :  but  I  thank 
my  God,  1  am  still  enabled  to  go  on,  having 
his  approbation,  and  the  testimony  of  a  good 
conscience. 

February  23d.  Gave  an  exhortation  to  my 
spinners  at  Rockly,  near  Marlborough,  after 
I  had  paid  them :  had  much  liberty  and  plea- 
sure, and  was  heard  with  great  attention. 

December  12th.  We  met  together  to  in- 
quire into  the  behaviour  of  one  of  our  mem- 
bers, who  has  lately  professed  to  preach,  for 
writing  a  very  unkind  and  disrespectful  let- 
ter to  an  aged  minister.  It  being  proved 
against  him,  and  also  that  his  motive  for 
preaching  was  apparently  worldly  gain,  he 
was  excluded  from  the  Lord's  table,  till  he 
should  be  sensible  of  his  faults,  and  make 
proper  acknowledgments. 

I  have  this  year  finished  my  organ,  and 
some  other  mechanical  and  philosophical  em- 
ployments, with  which  I  bless  God,  I  have 
pleasingly  filled  up  my  leisure  hours.  We 
have  not  had  additions  so  great  this  year  as 
in  some  former  ones,  but  I  hope  we  have  been 
more  and  more  confirmed  and  strengthened 
in  the  good  ways  of  the  Lord.  Our  number 
is  now  upwards  of  one  hundred  communi- 
cants, and  great  love  and  zeal  at  present 
reign  among  us.  O  may  they  be  continued, 
and  increase  abundantly ! 

1780.  Sunday  morning,  April  9th,  I  call- 
ed the  church  together  to  supplicate  the  di- 
vine throne;  to  bewail  our  imperfections; 
especially  to  lament  over  those  who  had  been 
censured  and  suspended  from  our  communion ; 
and  to  pray  that  God  would  graciously  be 
pleased  to  restore  them :  as  also  to  beg  his 
direction  concerning  many  that  have  applied 
for  admittance,  that  vve  might  not  be  suffered 
to  receive  improper  persons  into  our  society  ; 
at  the  same  time  to  praise  his  holy  name  for 
the  many  signal  favours  he  has  granted  us, 
since  we  became  an  organized  church.  We 
also  took  opportunity  to  intercede  for  our 
country — that  the  Lord  would  be  pleased 
speedily  to  bring  our  distracting  and  distress- 
ing affairs  to  a  happy  issue.  We  agreed  to 
meet  again  the  following  Sabbath  for  the  same 
purpose. 

September  20th.  This  day  my  father  died, 
aged  78.  I  hope  the  Lord  has  been  gracious 
to  him.  He  opposed  me  very  much  when  I 
began  to  profess  religion,  but  of  late  he  has 
constantly  attended  on  my  ministry. 

October  24th.  As  our  society  has  been 
now  formed  upwards  of  thirteen  years,  we 
begin  to  have  many  removed  from  us  by  death ; 
and  it  has  been  a  peculiar  satisfaction  to  me 
to  see  them  depart  with  a  good  hope  through 
grace;  some  of  them  full  of  comfort,  and  re- 
joicing in  the  prospect  of  eternal  felicity. 
Surely  this  is  an  ample  reward  for  all  my 
labour.    This  evening  I  have  interred  one  of 


JOHN  CLARK.  127 

our  dear  sisters,  a  most  amiable  young  wo- 
man, who  though  naturally  of  a  timid  disposi- 
tion, yet  was  strong  in  faith,  and  left  our 
world  with  holy  delight.  I  preached  by  her 
desire  from  Isaiah  xii.  2.  as  expressive  of  the 
frame  of  her  mind  in  her  last  moments. 

December  27th.  Mr.  Sloper  was  ordained 
at  Devizes.  The  ministers  who  officiated 
were  Messrs.  Phene,  Winter,  Jameson, 
Brewer  and  Bishop.  I  was  desired  to  point 
out  the  duties  of  the  pastoral  office,  which  I 
endeavoured  to  do,  but  was  so  deeply  affected 
with  my  dear  brother's  confession,  delivered 
with  so  much  godly  simplicity  and  sincerity, 
that  I  could  not  perform  it  with  that  order 
and  regularity  I  could  have  wished. 

1781.  May  15th.  Was  attacked  with  a 
violent  fever,  which  threatened  to  carry  me 
off  in  a  short  time.  It  is  generally  supposed 
that  I  took  cold  in  going  out  to  pray  over  the 
grave  of  a  person  I  buried  last  Sunday  even- 
ing, after  preaching  to  a  crowded  audience, 
and  being  very  warm.  There  is  a  scrupulous 
particularity  in  many  to  have  a  prayer  at  the 
grave ;  but  surely  it  can  be  of  no  importance 
whether  it  be  pronounced  within  doors  or 
without.  If  I  fall  a  martyr,  let  it  be  to  the 
souls  of  the  living,  and  not  to  the  bodies  of 
the  dead. 

May  20th.  Have  this  day  resumed  my 
pleasing  work  of  preaching  salvation  to  sin- 
ners, but  find  myself  very  weak. 

December  25.  We  have  kept  Christmas 
as  we  think  most  congenial  to  the  design  of 
its  institution,  and  the  character  of  Him  whose 
birth  we  celebrate :  viz.  not  in  carnal  feasting 
and  profane  mirth,  but  in  feasting  on  the 
word  of  God,  and  in  holy  joy.  We  had 
preaching  as  usual ;  and  I  trust  we  had  more 
real  happiness  than  if  we  had  spent  the  day 
in  rioting  and  drunkenness.  Wisdom's  ways 
are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths 
are  peace. 

1782.  February  8th.  This  being  appoint- 
ed by  government  for  a  general  fast,  the 
preceding  evening  I  attempted  to  show  the 
people  the  nature  and  design  of  a  Christian 
fast,  from  Matthew  vi.  16* — 18. 

August  4th.  Received  in  five  members. 
Another  applied  to  be  restored,  but  we  judg- 
ed it  necessary  for  him  to  wait  some  time 
longer,  as  he  does  not  seem  to  have  profited 
sufficiently  by  the  censure  of  the  church. 

1763.  May  28th.  Attended  Mr.  Steven- 
son's ordination,  who  is  settled  in  the  Inde- 
pendent Meeting  in  Trowbridge.  He  gave 
in  an  excellent  confession  of  faith. — May  the 
Lord  make  him  abundantly  useful  to  that 
people. 

1784.  December  24th.  Died  our  dear 
friend  Mrs.  Turner.  I  was  with  her,  and 
witnessed  the  sweet  composure  with  which 
she  departed.  Her  complaint  was  a  dreadful 
cancer  in  the  breast,  which  she  bore  with  ex- 
emplary patience.    She  had  some  imperfec- 


128  MEMOIRS  OF 

tions,  but  many  excellencies.  She  was  ex- 
tremely liberal  in  her  sentiments,  of  which 
some  persons  endeavoured  to  take  advantage, 
labouring  to  draw  her  away  to  their  opinions. 
She  was  zealous  for  inward  piety,  and  prac- 
tical religion ;  but  rather  too  positive.  Having 
been  greatly  carried  away  by  dress  and  gaiety 
in  her  younger  days,  she  would  scarcely  al- 
low of  any  thing  that  had  the  appearance  of 
ornament.  Though  suspected  of  being  in- 
clined to  Arminianism,  she  has  often  acknow- 
ledged to  me,  that  her  doctrinal  sentiments 
were  entirely  Calvinistic.  In  short,  she  was 
a  most  excellent  Christian,  and  died  renounc- 
ing all  dependence  on  her  own  works,  and 
triumphing  in  the  Saviour  alone. — May  my 
latter  end  be  like  her's. 

1785.  Wednesday,  January  5th.  At  the 
interment  of  our  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Turner,  I 
preached  by  her  desire  from  the  words — "  I 
am  nothing;"  which  were  fully  expressive 
of  her  real  sentiments  and  experience.  Ac- 
cording to  our  usual  custom,  all  the  members 
of  our  church  followed  the  corpse  to  the 
grave ;  and  I  suppose  there  were  not  less  than 
forty  ministers  of  different  denominations  pre- 
sent A  vast  concourse  of  people  was  ga- 
thered together. — May  many  of  them  be  led 
to  consider  their  latter  end,  and  to  copy  the 
example  of  our  deceased  sister. 

January  23d.  Having  been  greatly  solicited 
to  publish  Mrs.  Turner's  funeral  sermon,  I 
have  been  this  week  occupied  in  endeavour- 
ing to  recollect  the  particulars,  as  it  was  de- 
livered entirely  extemporary;  and  also  in 
composing  an  elegiac  poem  on  the  occasion, 
as  a  token  of  my  sincerest  regard. 

May  15th.  Approving  very  much  of  the 
late  institution  of  Sunday-schools,  I  have  en- 
deavoured for  some  time  to  establish  one 
among  ourselves;  and  we  have  now  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  boys  and  girls ;  and  as 
it  was  found  inconvenient  to  intermix  them 
with  the  congregation,  we  have  erected  a 
gallery  at  one  end  of  the  meeting,  which  they 
took  possession  of  this  morning;  and  it  was 
very  pleasing  to  see  what  a  difference  there 
is  between  their  appearanee  now  and  when 
they  were  playing  about  the  street,  and 
breaking  the  Sabbath. — May  the  Lord  own 
and  bless  this  laudable  institution. 

September  18th.  When  I  came  home  from 
preaching,  I  was  informed  that  the  weavers 
were  rising  round  the  country,  and  intended 
to  come  and  destroy  all  the  looms  of  their 
masters.  As  I  live  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  town,  it  was  concluded  to  come  to  me 
first  Many  of  my  friends  were  greatly  con- 
cerned for  me,  and  we  waited  up  till  one 
o'clock  next  morning;  but  being  much  fa- 
tigued by  preaching  three  times,  I  determined 
to  go  to  bed,  and  leave  ourselves  in  the  hands 
of  a  merciful  Redeemer ;  but  happy  was  I  in 
reading  in  the  family  to  open  at  the  third 
Psalm.  This  was  so  suitable  throughout,  and 


JOHN  CLARK. 

so  comfortable,  that  I  went  to  rest  with  entire 
confidence. 

1786.  August  27th.  My  wife  was  delivered 
of  a  fine  boy ;  both  likely  to  do  well. 

October  1st.  In  the  presence  of  the  con- 
gregation, I  solemnly  devoted  my  dear  infant 
to  the  Lord  by  baptism. — O !  may  he  baptize 
him  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  make  him  meet 
for  the  enjoyment  of  himself  for  ever. — We 
called  his  name  John. 

1787.  January  4th.  I  endeavoured  to  de- 
scribe the  office  of  a  watchman,  from  Ezekiel 
xxxiii. — O !  may  I  begin  the  year  with  an 
humble  dependence  on  my  God,  to  enable  me 
to  discharge  this  important  office  with  faith- 
fulness. The  work  people  are  again  in  a 
riotous  state ;  which,  as  I  am  a  clothier,  and 
have  much  to  do  with  them,  creates  me  a 
deal  of  uneasiness.  It  is  very  difficult  to 
know  how  to  act.  Surely,  the  working  poor 
should  have  every  encouragement ;  but  it  can- 
not be  right  for  them  to  dictate  to  their  mas- 
ters, and  threaten  to  destroy  their  property 
and  their  lives. 

May  19th.  We  have  this  day  experienced 
a  most  afflictive  providence.  It  has  pleased 
God  to  take  from  us  our  dear  little  boy ;  and 
the  stroke  seems  the  heavier,  as  it  was  sud- 
den and  unexpected;  and  he  was  our  only 
child. — O !  might  it  have  the  desired  effect 
of  showing  us  the  uncertainty  and  unsatisfac- 
toriness  of  every  thing  here  below,  and  of 
setting  our  hearts  more  entirely  on  those 
things  that  are  above. 

November  29th.  My  wife  was  brought  to 
bed  of  another  son,  which  seems  somewhat 
like  my  late  Isaac  being  raised  from  the  dead 
— but  his  mother  is  so  extremely  ill,  that  I 
almost  despair  of  her  life. — Many  have  been 
my  afflictions  this  year,  but  I  can  also  say, 
great  have  been  my  consolations.  The  riot- 
ing of  the  weavers — the  death  of  my  child — 
my  own  painful  illness — the  troublesome  and 
litigious  conduct  of  those  who  sold  me  the 
spot  of  ground  for  my  new  dwelling  house — 
and  now  the  dangerous  condition  of  my  wife ; 
but  yet  I  bless  God,  one  portion  of  his  Holy 
Word  has  been  my  support  through  the 
whole.  It  is  in  my  beloved  Psalm  lxxi.  20, 
21.  Thou  who  hast  shown  me  great  and  sore 
troubles,  shalt  quicken  me  again,  and  shalt 
bring  me  up  again  from  the  depths  of  the 
earth.  Thou  shalt  increase  my  greatness, 
and  comfort  me  on  every  side. 

1788.  January  13th.  Met  to  regulate  some 
disorders  that  have  crept  in  among  us,  and  to 
insist  on  a  stricter  attendance  at  the  Lord's 
table ;  and  also  to  choose  an  additional  deacon 
to  assist  in  visiting  the  poor  and  the  sick,  as 
our  number  is  so  greatly  increased.  All  was 
conducted  with  harmony  and  decorum. 

February  3d.  Baptized  my  child  in  the 
presence  of  the  congregation,  and  called  him 
by  the  name  of  his  deceased  brother,  John. 

1789.  December  15.    Slept  for  the  first 


MEMOIRS  OF 

time  in  our  new  habitation.  O  may  it  prove 
a  Bethel,  and  may  it  be  our  resting-place  till 
He  is  pleased  to  remove  us  to  the  house  not 
made  with  hands ! 

1790.  January  3d.  Preached  from  Psalm 
xxiii.  6.  Surely,  I  may  apply  these  words  to 
my  own  experience:  goodness  and  mercy 
have  followed  me :  goodness  in  all  the  benefits 
I  have  received,  and  mercy  in  all  the  afflic- 
tions I  have  endured :  goodness  in  supplying 
all  my  wants,  and  mercy  in  forgiving  all  my 
sins:  goodness  from  God  my  creator,  and 
mercy  from  God  my  redeemer. — These  have 
followed  me  as  constantly  as  my  shadow. 
These  have  been  with  me  in  every  condition 
— all  the  days  of  my  life — in  helpless  child- 
hood, in  giddy  youth,  in  manhood,  and  I  doubt 
not  will  be  to  old  age :  and  may  this  be  my 
determined  and  unalterable  resolution — to 
dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  to  enjoy,  and 
serve  and  praise  him  for  ever.  Amen. 

1791.  Being  now  nearly  forty  years  old,  I 
judge  that  I  have  fully  reached  the  meridian 
of  life,  and  perhaps  must  henceforth  expect 
to  find  my  remaining  years  declining  towards 
the  grave :  but  O  may  I  never  decline  from 
the  ways  of  God.  He  has  been  very  gracious 
to  me  hitherto,  and,  I  doubt  not,  will  preserve 
me  to  the  end.  It  is  thy  presence,  O  my 
God,  that  alone  can  support  rne  under  the 
infirmities  of  declining  life,  and  it  is  this  that 
must  give  a  relish  to  all  my  enjoyments. 
May  the  remainder  of  my  days,  whether 
many  or  few,  be  entirely  devoted  to  thy  glory, 
and  the  service  of  immortal  souls.  Amen. 

June.  As  the  Lord  has  been  graciously 
pleased  to  establish  my  health  once  more,  I 
think  this  summer  to  visit  the  villages  round 
this  neighbourhood,  where  I  have  formerly 
preached  the  word.  There  are  many  in  these 
places  that  will  not  be  at  the  pains  of  coming 
where  the  gospel  is  regularly  preached,  whose 
curiosity  may  lead  them  to  go  and  hear  what 
a  babbler  may  say.  I  would  therefore  wish 
to  accommodate  myself  to  their  prejudices, 
hoping  that  God  may  bless  it  to  their  souls. 

July.  As  our  church  is  now  grown  pretty 
large,  and  I  find  that  I  cannot  attend  to  every 
thing  myself,  I  proposed  to  choose  a  few  of 
our  most  discreet  members  to  assist  me,  to 
inquire  into  the  state  of  the  church  from  time 
to  time,  that  we  may  keep  up  its  discipline, 
and  consult  about  measures  for  its  prosperity. 
I  therefore  called  a  meeting  for  the  purpose; 
and  six  persons  were  approved  and  chosen. 
We  have  agreed  to  meet  an  hour  once  a 
month,  viz.  on  the  Tuesday  evening  before 
the  sacrament. 

1792.  November.  My  mind  has  been  much 
hurt  of  late,  by  finding  that  a  spirit  of  disaf- 
fection to  government  is  gone  abroad  among 
the  people  of  England,  in  consequence  of  the 
revolution  in  France.  May  the  Lord  check 
the  follies  of  mankind,  and  give  peace  in  our 
time! 

R 


JOHN  CLARK  129 

1793.  April  19th  being  a  public  fast,  we 
kept  it  in  a  very  solemn  manner.  The  un- 
happy spirit  of  disloyalty  and  disaffection  that 
prevails  too  much  at  present,  made  the  day 
peculiarly  interesting.  I  preached  at  seven 
in  the  morning :  we  afterwards  went  to  the 
parish  church.  In  the  afternoon  I  preached 
from  Proverbs  xxiv.  21.  "  My  son,  fear  thou 
the  Lord  and  the  king,  and  meddle  not  with 
them  that  are  given  to  change."  I  found 
great  boldness  and  liberty.  Preached  again 
in  the  evening.  Had  a  very  large  congrega- 
tion each  time. 

July  15th.  Died  my  brother  at  Newbury. 
He  is  taken  off  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  has 
left  a  widow  and  two  children.  To  these  I 
must  endeavour  to  be  a  father,  as  he  has  not 
been  very  successful  in  trade,  and  has  left 
very  little  property.  May  the  Lord  enable 
me  to  do  a  father's  part :  and  may  the  stroke 
be  sanctified  to  the  survivors. 

On  a  retrospection  of  the  year  past,  we  have 
great  room  for  gratitude.  The  Lord  has 
greatly  increased  our  numbers  and  blessed 
his  word ;  and  much  unanimity  and  kindness 
reign  among  us.  The  losses  of  our  dear 
friends,  who  are  gone  to  heaven,  have  been 
abundantly  made  up  by  the  acquisitions  of 
some  very  pious  and  useful  members. 

1794.  Our  tabernacle  being  so  crowded  as 
to  make  it  very  uncomfortable  both  to  minis- 
ter and  people,  it  has  been  for  some  time  in 
contemplation  to  enlarge.  This  can  only  be 
done  by  doubling  the  breadth,  which  will 
make  it  very  spacious,  and,  I  am  afraid,  re- 
quire too  much  exertion  for  me  to  preach  in 
it  constantly ;  but  the  Lord  can  give  strength 
according  to  the  necessity. 

June  10th.  Began  to  preach  round  about 
in  the  villages.  0  that  the  Lord  would  give 
me  a  heart  of  flesh  and  a  face  of  flint,  to  pro- 
claim his  word,  and  to  weep  over  precious 
souls. 

December  21.  I  bless  my  heavenly  Father 
I  am  greatly  recovered  from  my  late  illness, 
and  am  determined,  in  his  strength,  to  spend 
the  remnant  of  my  days  more  than  ever  in  his 
blessed  service,  and  to  his  honour  and  glory. 

1795.  Being  now  nearly  arrived  at  my 
fiftieth  year,  and  having  been  reminded  by 
my  late  long  and  severe  illness  of  the  uncer- 
tainty of  human  life,  I  judge  it  to  be  very 
proper  that  I  should  for  a  moment  look  back, 
and  see  how  these  years  have  been  spent. 
But  first,  undoubtedly,  the  thoughtless  years 
of  childhood  and  youth  must  be  struck  out  of 
the  account ;  very  little  improvement,  though 
much  folly,  can  be  attributed  to  them.  My 
noblest  source  of  satisfaction  is  in  reflecting 
that  the  Lord  has  honoured  me  with  a  com- 
mission to  preach  his  blessed  gospel;  and 
though  few  can  be  more  unfit  for  this  import- 
ant work,  yet  he  has  supported  me  in  it,  and 
owned  my  poor  attempts  to  the  conversion  of 
a  number  of  my  fellow-sinners,  and  the  esta» 


130 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


blishment  of  his  people  in  his  holy  ways. 
Much,  however,  have  I  to  be  ashamed  of  in 
the  many  imperfections  that  have  attended 
my  endeavours.  That  which  has  occupied 
the  greatest  portion  of  my  time  has  been  the 
management  of  a  large  business,  in  which  I 
have  met  with  many  losses  and  difficulties; 
yet  it  has  pleased  God  to  give  me  a  comfort- 
able subsistence,  and  a  rich  abundance.  Many 
of  my  intervening  hours  have  been  taken  up 
in  educating  my  child,  investigating  the 
works  of  nature,  mechanism,  poetry,  music, 
gardening,  &c.  In  short,  my  time  has  been 
pleasingly  diversified.  But  has  all  been  done 
to  the  glory  of  God ;  and  may  I  not  say  much 
of  my  time  has  run  to  waste]  Yet,  O  my  God, 
the  best  hours  I  have  spent  in  this  world  have 
been  those  in  which  thou  hast  permitted  a 
near  approach  to  thyself.  These  have  been 
my  golden  moments.  O !  had  they  been 
more  !  Great  room,  therefore,  have  I  to  be 
thankful,  and  great  room  to  be  humbled.  May 
I  forget  the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reach 
forth  to  those  that  are  before. 

March  29th.  Preached  a  funeral  sermon 
for  the  wife  of  one  of  our  members,  who, 
though  she  never  professed  much,  yet  evi- 
denced her  love  to  the  Lord  and  his  people  by 
every  act  of  kindness.  Her  husband  was  one 
of  those  abandoned  characters  converted  at 
the  first  opening  of  our  tabernacle ;  and  she 
has  often  observed  that  the  ground  of  her  at- 
tachment to  us  was  the  reformation  we  had 
made  in  her  husband,  so  that  she  lived  with 
him  quiet  and  happy  afterwards.  I  hope  it 
may  be  said  she  also  was  a  partaker  of  his 
grace.  She  always  attended  the  word ;  and 
being  in  a  public  house,  they  kept  the  strict- 
est order,  and  would  not  permit  any  one  to 
get  intoxicated. 

May  28th.  Buried  our  dear  friend  Jacob 
Gaton,  one  of  our  deacons,  a  worthy  man  and 
a  pious  Christian.  He  died  after  a  very  long 
and  trying  affliction,  which  he  bore  with  ad- 
mirable patience  and  fortitude.  He  might  be 
truly  said  to  "have  great  peace  by  loving 
God's  law,  so  that  nothing  could  offend  him." 
It  was  a  pleasure  to  visit  him,  and  to  witness 
his  triumphing  over  death.  In  one  of  my  last 
interviews  I  hinted  to  him  what  a  mercy  it 
was  to  have  the  great  concerns  of  another 
world  settled  before  we  lay  on  a  dying  bed. 
He  replied  with  great  earnestness,  "  This  is 
the  time  to  spend  faith,  and  not  to  get  it ;" 
and  immediately  recollecting  that  the  term 
spend  did  not  seem  quite  proper,  he  corrected 
himself  and  added,  "  I  mean  to  use  faith,  for 
I  know,"  said  he,  "  it  can  never  be  spent." 
At  another  time,  a  person  sitting  by  his  bed- 
side said,  "Jacob,  you  will  be  soon  happy;" 
he  answered  in  an  ecstasy,  "  I  am  happy  al- 
ready, and  am  only  going  to  a  greater  happi- 
ness. A  death-bed,"  added  he,  "  is  the  time 
to  prove  the  value  and  importance  of  religion." 
The  funeral  text,  chosen  by  himself  was  Ze- 


phaniah  iii.  17.  He  was  one  of  the  nine  that 
joined  us  first,  and  has  walked  steadily  and 
uniformly  between  thirty  and  forty  years. 

1797.  September.  I  am  now  somewhat 
recovered,  and  am  able  once  more  to  preach, 
but  with  much  difficulty,  and  am  obliged  to 
be  carried.  I  hope  I  shall  be  yet  able  to  call 
a  few  more  sinners  to  repentance,  if  it  is  my 
Heavenly  Father's  good  pleasure.  But  the 
complaint  in  my  head  still  continues,  and  I 
am  afraid,  will  to  the  end  of  my  days.  Though 
I  have  been  incapacitated  to  attend  to  the 
concerns  of  our  church  this  year  past,  yet  I 
am  happy  to  find  that  several  have  been  ad- 
mitted to  the  privileges  of  it. — With  respect 
to  my  own  frame  of  mind,  I  can  truly  say 
that  I  have  found  the  religion  of  the  gospel  to 
be  my  only  support  and  consolation.  Though 
I  have  been  excluded  from  the  participation 
of  the  outward  means  of  grace,  yet  my  soul 
has  trusted  in  the  Lord,  and  1  am  helped. 

1798.  I  have  hitherto  attempted  to  edu- 
cate my  child  in  every  branch  of  useful  sci- 
ence, but  my  health  and  spirits  not  permitting 
me  to  attend  so  closely  to  his  improvement  as 
his  present  age  and  abilities  require,  I  think 
it  my  duty  to  put  him  to  a  master  who  will 
do  justice  to  his  talents:  and  I  am  happy  to 
have  found  one — a  pious  clergyman,  who 
keeps  only  a  few  boarders,  and  who,  while  he 
is  a  good  classical  scholar,  is  extremely  at- 
tentive to  their  morals,  and  an  evangelical 
preacher. — May  the  Lord  grant  that  his  ta- 
lents may  be  improved  to  the  most  useful  and 
important  purposes.  Amen. 

1799.  As  I  have  been  very  much  con- 
fined this  winter  within  doors,  I  have  amused 
myself  in  looking  over  some  little  pieces  of 
poetry,  which  were  chiefly  composed  in  my 
juvenile  years,  together  with  some  hymns, 
which  we  have  occasionally  sung  at  the  Ta- 
bernacle ;  and  having  been  frequently  told 
that  they  might  become  a  blessing,  if  made 
public,  I  have  prepared  them  for  the  press, 
and  had  them  printed.  I  hope  I  can  say  I 
have  done  it  with  a  pure  motive  to  be  ser- 
viceable to  the  cause  of  religion  in  every  way 
I  am  able. 

I  am  thankful  I  am  one  year  nearer  to  my 
eternal  sabbath,  where  all  sin,  and  sorrow, 
and  weakness  will  for  ever  end. 

1800.  This  year  I  have  been  very  much 
confined  at  home  ;  but  have  been  enabled  in 
general  to  preach  at  our  own  place  twice  of 
a  Lord's-day,  and  once  on  a  week-day  even- 
ing, besides  expounding  a  chapter  Sunday 
afternoon — yet  I  have  made  some  excursions. 
In  August,  we  visited  Weymouth  again,  and 
continued  there  five  weeks,  where  I  often 
preached  as  I  was  able. — As  1  have  been 
sometimes  detained  in  private  for  a  whole 
Sabbath  together,  it  has  afforded  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  more  attentively  and  experimentally 
reading  God's  blessed  word  ;  and  I  find  afflic- 
tions are  necessary  to  make  us  understand  it. 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


131 


On  one  of  those  occasions,  I  thought  I  would 
regularly  read  through  the  whole  book  of 
Psalms  ;  and  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  there 
was  scarce  a  Psalm,  but  in  one  part  or  an- 
other, exactly  applied  to  my  case.  I  was  par- 
ticularly struck  with  Psalm  lxvi.  10,  11,  12. 
I  have  often  been  brought  into  the  net  of 
perplexities  and  difficulties,  in  my  business, 
and  in  my  office,  as  a  preacher,  and  as  a 
pastor :  I  have  had  affliction  laid  upon  my 
loins  in  many  painful  and  dangerous  diseases : 
men  have  rode  over  my  head  by  their  impo- 
sitions and  oppressions;  and  because  I  preach 
the  word  of  God  freely,  many  religious  per- 
sons have  taken  occasion  to  borrow  sums  of 
money,  and  instead  of  repaying  me,  have  en- 
treated me  with  the  greatest  unkindness  and 
ingratitude,  judging  that  I  should  not  have  re- 
course to  rigorous  methods  to  recover  it,  be- 
ing a  preacher  of  mercy  :  I  have  also  been 
brought  through  fire  and  through  water ; 
opposite  extremes  of  trials  and  temptations  ; 
yet  I  bless  his  holy  name,  I  have  no  doubt  but 
he  will  shortly  bring  me  forth  into  a  wealthy 
place ;  either  making  me  more  useful  in  this 
world,  or  calling  me  away  to  a  better. 

1803.  March  1st.  I  published  a  little 
thing  called  the  Christian's  Ledger,  wherein 
are  contrasted  the  various  texts  of  Scripture, 
pointing  out  what  we  are,  and  what  we  are 
commanded  to  be ;  and  also,  what  God  has 
promised  to  bestow.    May  it  be  useful. 

May.  Published  a  little  poem,  called  No- 
vitius ;  intended  to  give  some  friendly  hints 
to  young  preachers. — O  may  God  condescend 
to  smile  upon  my  endeavours  for  his  glory 
and  the  advancement  of  real  religion.  I  hope 
I  can  say  my  motives  are  upright.  I  want 
no  emolument.  I  have  devoted  the  profit,  if 
there  should  be  any,  to  benevolent  purposes  : 
and  as  to  what  is  called  fame,  it  is  a  mere 
phantom — unworthy  the  pursuit  of  any  ra- 
tional being. — O  that  my  poor  attempts  may 
be  blessed  to  many  when  I  am  incapable  of 
hearing  of  it ;  and  may  the  glory  be  given  to 
him,  who  is  the  author  of  every  good  and  per- 
fect gift. 

November.  Much  complaint  having  been 
made  of  a  want  of  tunes  to  hymns  of  a  pecu- 
liar metre,  I  composed  a  few,  which  we  may 
occasionally  use,  and  in  hopes  of  their  being 
useful  to  other  congregations  as  well  as  our 
own,  I  published  them  under  the  title  of  the- 
Trowbridge  Harmony. 

"  O  may  I  breathe  no  longer  than  I  breathe 
My  soul  in  praise  to  Htm  who  gave  my  soul 
All  her  infinite  of  prospect  fair." 

1804.  Another  thing  that  requires  regula- 
tion, is  our  singing.  It  was  formerly  our 
method  for  all  the  congregation  to  sing  the 
praises  of  God ;  and  it  was  performed  with 
much  reverence  and  devotion.  But  of  late 
years,  it  has  degenerated  very  much  from  its 
original  simplicity.    A  set  of  persons  calling 


themselves  songsters,  has  by  degrees  taken 
upon  them  the  whole  of  that  part  of  God's  ser- 
vice; and  the  rest  of  the  congregation  sit 
carelessly  to  listen,  as  if  they  had  no  active 
concern  in  it.  Besides,  these  songsters  are 
often  falling  out  among  themselves,  and  fre- 
quently sing  such  improper  tunes,  that  they 
cause  great  uneasiness.  To  obviate  these 
difficulties,  I  thought  the  best  way  would  be 
to  make  use  of  an*  organ,  and  hearing  of  a 
good  one  to  be  sold  at  Bath,  I  went  over  and 
purchased  it.  It  is  now  delightful  to  hear 
the  whole  congregation  uniting  as  one  man 
in  the  exercise.  My  own  son  and  another 
young  gentleman  have  engaged  to  play  it 
gratis. 

1805.  I  have  been  several  times  seized 
with  such  a  difficulty  of  breathing,  that  I 
thought  I  should  have  expired  immediately : 
especially  after  my  last  return  from  Wey- 
mouth ;  I  was  obliged  to  rise  at  two  o'clock, 
and  all  my  family  were  greatly  alarmed.  I 
expected  every  instant  to  depart;  but  thank 
God,  I  was  quite  easy  and  satisfied ;  and 
seemed  to  be  waiting  to  have  the  prison  doors 
opened,  and  the  captive  soul  set  at  liberty. — 

0  what  a  mercy  to  have  all  right  between 
my  soul  and  my  God  in  a  dying  hour. 

1806.  September  7th.  The  Lord  has  seen 
good  to  lay  me  by  these  three  or  four  months, 
in  a  severe  fit  of  rheumatic  gout,  and  a  com- 
plication of  other  disorders.  Excessive  has 
been  the  pain  and  distress  which  I  have  felt, 
yet  I  hope  I  can  say,  the  consolations  of  the 
Lord  have  been  neither  few  nor  small.  The 
brethren,  and  indeed  my  town  people  in  gene- 
ral, have  manifested  a  great  deal  of  kindness 
and  affectionate  solicitude  for  my  recovery. 
It  seems  very  trying  to  be  checked  in  the 
midst  of  my  work,  which  of  late  has  been  very 
pleasant  to  me  ;  but  the  will  of  the  Lord  must 
be  done  ;  O  that  I  may  submit  cheerfully  to  it 

1  am  going,  however,  to  be  carried  this  after- 
noon to  the  table  of  the  Lord.  There  I  met 

the  brethren,  and  we  all  wept  together  for 
the  goodness  of  God  to  us  as  a  church,  in  so 
far  recovering  me.  Surely  the  Lord  was 
with  us  of  a  truth. 

1807.  In  the  course  of  my  late  tedious  af- 
fliction, I  have  received  considerable  amuse- 
ment and  gratification  in  composing  a  little 
poem,  called  the  Fortunate  Discovery;  and 
which  I  have  since  published. 

August  12th.  Went  to  Weymouth,  and 
continued  there  a  month.  It  served,  I  think, 
in  some  measure  to  strengthen  my  general 
frame ;  but  my  dropsical  complaint  is  return- 
ed again  with  great  violence. 

December.  Spent  a  month  at  Bath,  in  hope 
the  change  oP  air  might  be  useful ;  but  the 
weather  was  so  extremely  unfavourable,  that 
I  could  not  go  out,  and  found  myself  worse. 
As  it  does  not  seem  probable  that  I  shall  ever 
be  able  again  to  fill  up  my  place  in  the  house 
of  God  as  formerly,  I  am  looking  out  for  an 


132  MEMOIRS  OF 

assistant — one  that  may  be  a  comfort  to  me, 
and  a  blessing  to  the  people. 

1808.  January  24th.  This  being  my  birth 
day,  and  having  arrived  at  what  some  people 
call  the  grand  climacteric,  I  am  induced  to 
look  back  and  view  how  these  sixty-three 
years  have  been  spent.  I  cannot  express 
myself  better  than  in  the  words  of  Dr. 
Watts:— 

Much  of  my  time  lias  run  to  waste, 
And  I,  perhaps,  am  near  my  home ; 

Lord,  grant  me  pardon  for  the  past, 
And  give  me  strength  for  days  to  come. 

My  indisposition  still  continues,  and  my 
people  are  obliged  to  procure  various  minis- 
ters to  supply  my  place. — At  length,  I  trust, 
we  have  been  happily  directed  to  a  person 
well  qualified  to  take  a  share  with  me  in  the 
pastoral  care  of  the  church  and  congregation. 
He  seems  a  man  of  real  piety,  and  possessed 
of  every  other  requisite  for  the  due  discharge 
of  his  important  office.  His  name  is  Innes, 
now  at  Crediton  in  Devonshire. — May  the 
Lord  make  him  a  useful  instrument  of  good, 
and  a  lasting  blessing  to  the  people. 

Mr.  Innes  preached  his  first  sermon,  after 
which  he  continued  with  us  some  time,  and 
found  great  acceptance  with  the  people,  who 
almost  unanimously  invited  him  to  be  their 
pastor  and  teacher,  in  conjunction  with  my- 
self, to  which  he  acceded ;  and  at  the  same 
time,  they  have  provided  liberally  for  his  sup- 
port, far  beyond  my  expectations;  for  all 


JOHN  CLARK. 

which,  the  Lord  enable  me  to  be  thankful.  It 
has  relieved  me  from  a  great  burden,  and  1 
hope,  laid  a  foundation  for  continuing  the 
gospel  in  that  place — so  that  I  can  now  de- 
part in  peace,  and  with  entire  satisfaction. 

August  21st.  I  ventured  out  to  God's  house 
this  morning,  and  gave  the  people  an  exhort- 
ation respecting  our  dear  friend  Mr.  Innes, 
founded  on  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  1  Corin- 
thians xvi.  10,  11.  "  See  that  he  may  be  with 
you  without  fear :  for  he  worketh  the  work 
of  the  Lord,  as  I  also  do."  After  which,  Mr. 
Innes  addressed  them  in  a  very  affectionate 
manner.  They  seemed  to  be  much  moved, 
and  I  hope  were  greatly  edified. 

August  27th.  Repeated  my  journey  to 
Weymouth,  but  the  weather  proved  so  very 
unfavourable,  that  we  did  not  stay  there  long, 
though  I  think  it  rather  helped  to  brace  up 
my  frame,  and  harden  me  against  the  ap- 
proaching winter.  All  the  friends  at  Wey- 
mouth were  very  kind.  Before  I  took  this 
journey,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the 
experience  of  eighteen  persons,  who  desired 
to  be  admitted  into  the  church. 

October  9th.  I  assisted  Mr.  Innes  at  the 
Lord's  table,  being  the  first  sacrament  since 
the  taking  in  of  our  new  members. — O  that 
the  great  Shepherd  may  crown  all  our  la- 
bours, and  bless  our  souls  to  his  glory. 

[Here  end  the  Memoirs,  from  -which  we  have 
made  the  preceding  extracts.] 


REMARKS  ON  THE  CHARACTER  AND  NARRATIVE. 


From  the  preceding  Memoir  it  appears, 
that  Mr.  Clark's  health  had  been  for  some 
years  impaired  and  declining.  At  length  the 
symptoms  of  his  disorder  grew  more  serious; 
and  his  friends  foreboded  the  event  as  at  no 
great  distance.  But  his  removal  was  rather 
sudden  and  unexpected.  In  the  morning  of 
the  last  Sabbath  he  spent  on  earth,  he  attend- 
ed public  worship.  In  the  evening  of  the  day 
on  which  he  died,  a  friend  called  upon  him, 
and  remarked  his  cheerfulness  and  compo- 
sure: he  replied,  "I  enjoy  a  solid  peace,  and 
have  not  been  suffered  to  doubt  the  safety  of 
my  state  during  all  this  affliction,  and  for 
years  before."  He  performed  family  worship 
himself — it  was  the  last  time — he  prayed 
with  peculiar  impressiveness,  like  one  who 
was  at  "  the  gate  of  heaven."  Then  taking 
leave  of  his  friend,  he  said,  "  Perhaps  we  may 
not  meet  again  on  earth,  but  I  trust  we  shall 
meet  in  heaven.  I  might  have  died  long  ago. 
I  may  not  die  for  some  weeks.  I  may  die 
this  very  night.  But,  blessed  be  God,  let  it 
come  when  it  will,  all  is  well  with  regard  to 
the  soul  and  eternity."  He  retired ;  and, 
when  in  bed,  again  expressed  his  sense  of  the 


divine  goodness,  that  "all,  all  was  well." 
Shortly  after  which  he  literally  and  figura- 
tively "fell  asleep."  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  easy  or  tranquil  than  his  entrance 
into  the  "  rest  that  remains  for  the  people  of 
God." 

Thus  from  the  termination  of  his  written 
account  to  the  period  of  his  dissolution,  only 
a  few  months  intervened ;  and  they  were 
months  of  inability  for  public  service,  and  of 
bodily  sickness  and  pain.  During  this  season 
nothing  occurred  worthy  of  remark,  but  the 
exemplary  manner  in  which  he  bore  his  pri- 
vations and  afflictions ;  and  the  familiarity 
and  satisfaction  with  which  he  looked  forward 
to  the  hour  of  his  release.  His  experience 
and  conversation  in  circumstances  so  trying, 
and  in  prospect  of  an  event  so  awful  and  im- 
portant, were  peculiarly  interesting  and  edi- 
fying. I  never  withdrew  from  his  presence 
without  exclaiming,  "  Thus,  if  called  to  it, 
may  I  suffer."  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous ;  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  liis." 

In  our  monthly  religious  obituaries  there  is 
too  great  an  insertion  of  at  least  one  kind  of 
peaceful  and  happy  deaths.    I  mean  those 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


133 


deaths — with  which  the  life  has  no  corres- 
pondence—-for  which  it  is  no  preparation — 
and  of  which  it  yields  no  reasonable  hope. 
The  Scripture  does  not  countenance  the  ex- 
pectation of  such  a  frequent  discordancy  be- 
tween the  way  and  the  end ;  between  the 
character  of  a  man  while  in  this  world,  and 
his  transition  out  of  it.  And  though  we  should 
always  endeavour  to  do  good,  and  never  limit 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  it  becomes  us  in 
many  instances  to  rejoice,  not  only  with 
trembling,  but  with  silence ;  and  to  remem- 
ber that  the  evidences  which  encourage  us, 
must  be  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case  du- 
bious ;  that  "  light  is  sown  for  the  righteous, 
and  joy  for  the  upright  in  heart ;"  that  we  are 
to  "  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,"  in  order  to 
"  lay  hold  on  eternal  life,"  and  to  "  run  the 
race  set  before  us,"  in  order  to  "  reach  the 
prize  of  our  high  calling ;"  and  that  the  fre- 
quent exhibition  of  careless,  worldly,  wicked 
lives  being  closed  with  a  work  of  grace,  will 
have  a  tendency  to  prevent  a  salutary  fear, 
and  to  keep  alive  a  presumptuous  hope.  God 
forbid  we  should  exclude,  however  vile,  any 
of  our  fellow-creatures  from  mercy,  even  at 
the  eleventh  hour.  We  do  not.  But  it  may 
strike  some  with  wonder  to  observe  how  com- 
monly— may  I  not  add  invariably,  even  male- 
factors, when  visited  by  a  certain  order  of 
good  men,  finish  their  course,  if  not  with  the 
triumph  and  exstasy  of  martyrs,  yet  with  a 
confidence  and  joy  far  superior  to  those  of 
thousands  who  have  long  followed  the  Sa- 
viour in  the  regeneration.  Now  admitting, 
as  we  most  cheerfully  and  gratefully  do,  the 
possibility  of  a  real  change  of  heart,  in  some 
of  these  examples,  yet  surely  it  would  not  be 
amiss  if  many  of  those  who  profess  to  experi- 
ence it,  discovered  a  little  more  penitence,  as 
well  as  assurance ;  and  many  of  those  who 
record  it  displayed  a  little  more  caution  as 
well  as  zeal. 

To  return  to  the  place  from  which  we  may 
seem  to  have  digressed ;  in  Mr.  Clark  the 
way  and  the  end,  the  life  and  the  death  har- 
monized. To  live  was  Christ ;  to  die  was 
gain.  He  had  been  distinguished  by  a  long 
course  of  dependence  upon  God,  of  com- 
munion with  him,  of  devotedness  to  him.  He 
evinced  a  remarkable  steadiness  and  consist- 
ency of  character.  He  was  early  called  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  and 
from  the  commencement  of  his  religious  ca- 
reer to  the  close  of  it  he  was  uniform.  Ob- 
served at  twenty,  at  forty,  at  sixty;  seen  in 
public,  in  private,  in  single  life ;  examined 
as  a  son,  a  master,  a  husband,  a  father — 
he  was  the  same ;  harmless  and  blameless ; 
holy  and  spiritual — no  other  difference  be- 
ing discernible  than  that  which  results  from 
increase  and  progression.  For  "  the  path  of 
the  just  is  as  the  shining  light  that  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 
What  an  interesting  object  to  contemplate 
12 


is  a  man  who  not  only  begins  well,  but  ends 
so ;  who,  moving  through  a  world  like  this  for 
near  seventy  years,  is  steadfast,  unmoveable, 
always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord ; 
who  is  neither  discouraged  by  difficulties,  nor 
flattered  by  seducing  prospects  to  abandon  his 
course,  or  even  to  relax  in  it !  How  many 
apostacies  and  declensions  has  such  a  man 
witnessed  while  he  has  held  on  his  way! 
How  often  have  his  principles  been  reduced 
to  proof,  and  how  often  has  he  practically 
said,  "  Yea,  doubtless,  and  I  count  all  things 
but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord !"  Such  a  man  gains 
esteem  and  confidence :  his  enemies  and  his 
friends  are  possessed  of  a  thousand  pledges 
of  the  part  he  will  act  in  any  given  circum- 
stances :  he  is  a  tower-man,  he  has  passed  the 
mint,  and  circulates  unquestioned  and  ap- 
proved: he  is  "blessed,"  for  "he  is  tried, 
and  receives  a  crown  of  life" — and  the 
Judge  of  all,  as  he  puts  it  on,  says  "  Thou 
hast  borne,  and  hast  patience,  and  for  my 
name's  sake  hast  laboured,  and  hast  not 
fainted."  Such  a  man  is  here  presented  to 
the  public. 

A  prejudice  has  sometimes  been  excited 
against  early  conversions ;  but  an  enemy  has 
done  this.  Surely  it  is  reasonable  to  con- 
clude, that  where  God  intends  a  man  should 
gain  much  or  do  much,  he  will  dispose  him  to 
begin  betimes.  Surely  it  is  not  without  cause 
that  he  has  said,  "  I  love  them  that  love  me, 
and  they  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me." 
And  the  eminent  servants  of  God  recorded  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  the  numberless  examples 
that  have  adorned  the  church  of  God  down 
to  a  Winter,  and  a  Clark,  will,  I  hope,  be 
sufficient  to  disprove  the  wretched  proverb, 
that  "young  saints  make  old  devils,"  and 
give  rise  to  a  juster  one,  "  that  young  saints 
make  old  angels." 

While  we  acknowledge  the  insufficiency 
of  a  dry  and  barren  orthodoxy ;  of  cold  and 
speculative  opinions,  that  leave  the  heart  un- 
impressed and  the  life  unsanctified ;  no  op- 
portunity should  be  omitted  of  remarking  the 
importance  that  ought  to  be  attached  to  an 
enlightened  understanding  and  a  sound  judg- 
ment. And,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  prove, 
how  materially  the  adoption  of  definite  and 
fixed  views  of  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  af- 
fects, if  not  the  safety,  yet  the  excellency  of 
the  individual.  Decision  and  firmness,  even 
when  they  rather  partake  of  obstinacy,  con- 
nect much  more  advantageously  with  dignity 
and  usefulness;  than  levity,  and  fickleness, 
and  change.  That  which  is  firm  may  be  ren- 
dered fundamental;  but  who  can  build  on 
sliding  sand"!  A  double  minded  man  is  un- 
stable in  all  his  ways.  He  can  never  be  a 
character.  Character  is  the  result  and  fame 
of  habits ;  habits  are  formed  by  actions  ;  and 
actions  that  are  uniform  and  constant  enough 
to  produce  them,  must  issue  from  some  strong 


134 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


principle — the  man  cannot  be  versatile  in  the 
bias  of  his  feelings,  or  of  his  views.  The  firm 
reception  of,  and  adherence  to,  a  class  of  sen- 
timents, even  allowing1  the  system  not  to  be 
perfectly  correct,  (a  concession  that  ought  to 
be  extended  to  every  system,  but  that  which 
is  contained  in  the  Book  of  God)  is  preferable 
to  a  state  of  hesitation  and  uncertainty.  For 
this  state  of  mind,  though  it  may  in  some 
cases  be  excused,  and  in  some,  for  awhile,  be 
even  commended,  generally  springs  from 
evil,  and  leads  to  it.  It  reflects  on  revela- 
tion, which  being  designed  not  only  for  im- 
portant but  immediate  use,  is  doubtless  in- 
tended to  be  plain.  It  discredits  the  truth 
of  the  promise — "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;" 
— "  The  meek  will  he  guide  in  judgment, 
and  the  meek  will  he  teach  his  way."  It 
causes  us  to  lose  the  advantage  of  truth  un- 
der the  constant  apprehension  of  admitting 
error;  keeps  every  thing  unoperative,  be- 
cause undecided ;  and  employs  in  search,  the 
opportunities  given  for  use  and  employment. 
I  can  never  suppose,  that  the  scripture  de- 
signed to  applaud  the  free  inquiry  and  liberal 
minds  of  those  who  are  represented  as  "  ever 
learning,  and  never  able  to  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth."  Men  the  most  distin- 
guished and  serviceable  in  the  cause  of  God, 
have  been  the  reverse  of  this  vagrancy  of 
mind ;  they  had  their  leading  sentiments 
early  and  firmly  fixed ;  their  "  hearts  were 
established  with  grace;"  and  though  they 
improved  much,  they  varied  little.  And  this 
was  the  case  with  the  man  of  God  we  are 
reviewing.  He  never  found  it  necessary  to 
change  those  principles  which  he  felt  per- 
fectly adapted  to  his  state  as  a  sinner,  and  his 
experience  as  a  saint.  He  discerned  and  em- 
braced the  truth  at  once,  and  without  delay, 
began  to  enjoy  it — to  walk  in  it — to  profess 
it — to  diffuse  it:  and  hence  the  complexion 
of  his  future  life. 

I  am  far  from  wishing  to  represent  Mr. 
Clark  as  perfect.  We  have  no  such  cha- 
racters in  the  biography  of  the  scripture ;  and 
when  we  meet  with  them  in  other  works,  we 
feel  ourselves  trifled  with,  if  not  insulted. 
We  have  fable  given  us  instead  of  fact.  Such 
characters  are  imaginary.  Even  the  grace 
of  God,  while  it  produces  the  Christian,  leaves 
the  man.  I  should  not  furnish  a  just  view  of 
the  subject  of  this  narrative,  were  I  not  to  ob- 
serve, that  he  had  a  disposition,  which  to  an 
unusual  degree,  was  retreating  and  reserved. 
To  this  may  be  fairly  ascribed  several  of  the 
little  blemishes  occasionally  noticed  in  him. 
We  are  prone  to  run  into  extremes.  The 
generality  of  ministers,  as  well  as  of  females 
in  our  day,  are  not  in  danger  of  excess  in 
"  being  keepers  at  home ;"  but  in  the  case  of 
the  deceased,  home  was,  perhaps,  too  attrac- 
tive and  engrossing.  He  seemed  to  draw 
solitarily,  rather  than  as  a  co-operator  with 


others.  He  rarely  met  with  his  brethren  in 
their  associations,  or  attended  any  of  their 
public  services.  He  too  rarely  saw  his  own 
people,  but  in  the  house  of  God,  and  in 
the  hour  of  affliction ;  he  had  too  little  in- 
tercourse with  his  neighbours  and  friends; 
he  stood  too  much  aloof  from  general  so- 
ciety. 

Here  it  may  be  necessary  to  observe,  that 
while  religion  disposes  us  for  retirement,  it 
prepares  us  to  leave  it ;  and  that  many  of  its 
duties  call  us,  not  out  of  the  world,  but  into 
it.  A  Christian,  says  our  Lord,  is  a  candle ; 
and  "  no  man,  when  he  hath  lighted  a  candle, 
putteth  it  under  a  bushel,  but  on  a  candle- 
stick, that  it  may  give  light  to  all  that  are  in 
the  house."  And  adds  he — "  Let  your  light 
so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your 
good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is 
in  heaven."  Ye  are  my  witnesses,  says 
God.  As  such,  they  are  subpeened  to  appear ; 
and  they  are  not  to  be  absent  when  called 
upon  to  depose.  Many  a  testimony  has  been 
lost,  by  the  Christians  withdrawment  from  his 
place,  as  well  as  by  his  cowardly  fear  and 
shame  when  he  is  in  it. 

It  is  possible,  therefore,  that  the  abstraction 
enjoined  upon  us  in  the  Scriptures,  may  lead 
us  astray ;  and  there  is  peculiar  danger  of 
this,  when  it  falls  in  with  a  recluse  temper. 
It  is  very  conceivable,  that  many  find  soli- 
tude much  more  inviting,  and  free,  and  plea- 
sant, than  society.  Moses,  doubtless,  found  it  a 
greater  privilege  to  hold  communion  with 
God  in  Horeb ;  but  it  was  his  duty  to  descend, 
and  endeavour  to  guide  and  govern  a  faithless 
and  perverse  generation,  through  the  wilder- 
ness to  Canaan.  Peter  wished  to  remain  in 
the  transfiguration  with  his  Master,  and  Mo- 
ses and  Elias — but  "he  knew  not  what  he 
said."  From  the  irreligious  maxims  and  man- 
ners of  the  world,  we  are  absolutely  to  retire, 
and  thus  practically  bear  our  testimony  against 
them :  but  the  demand  does  not  extend  in  the 
same  way  to  our  social  intercourse  with  them- 
selves. This  it  indirectly  and  conditionally 
forbids.  This  we  are  only  to  avoid  when 
there  is  danger  of  infection,  and  no  prospect 
of  doing  good.  And  even  with  regard  to 
these,  we  are  to  remember — that  we  may  be 
secured  from  contagion,  if  we  take  our  preser- 
vatives along  with  us,  and  venture  only  at 
the  call  of  God,  and  with  a  single  eye  to  our 
duty  :  and — that  there  are  opportunities  and 
ways  of  being  serviceable  by  a  well  regulated 
intermixture  with  others,  that  some  cannot  or 
will  not  discern.  We  should,  therefore,  guard 
not  only  against  every  tiling  that  looks  un- 
civil, but  unsocial  in  religion.  Though  we 
are  to  discover  a  peculiar  regard  to  "the 
household  of  faith ;"  "  as  we  have  opportunity, 
we  are  to  do  good  unto  all  men."  They  have 
claims  upon  us  as  fellow-creatures,  citizens, 
neighbours.  The  Saviour  died  for  them ;  and 
it  is  not  the  will  of  our  Father,  who  is  in 


MEMOIRS  OF 

Heaven,  that  one  of  them  should  perish.  If 
we  are  in  the  possession  of  a  benefit  that  at 
present  they  are  unhappily  destitute  of ;  are 
we  to  be  proud,  as  well  as  thankful !  are  we 
to  feel,  and  act  as  if  we  considered  them  ex- 
cluded and  reprobate]  Or  as  those,  who  are 
encouraged  by  the  mercy  bestowed  on  them, 
to  invite  others  from  their  own  experience, 
and  to  say — "  O  taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is 
good — blessed  is  the  man  that  trusteth  in 
him." 

By  keeping  at  an  ungracious  distance  from 
those  around  us,  we  seem  at  least  to  regard 
them  as  the  Jews  did  the  Gentiles,  unworthy 
to  come  in  contact  with  so  peculiar  a  people: 
we  seem  to  say  "  Stand  by  thyself,  come  not 
near  to  me  ;  for  I  am  holier  than  thou."  Hence 
as  they  will  judge  by  us  of  our  religion — our 
religion  will  acquire,  in  their  minds,  a  con- 
temptuous and  repulsive  aspect,  and  the  re- 
action of  such  a  sentiment,  cannot  but  be  in- 
jurious and  lamentable. 

Nor  is  this  all.  A  man  may  move  suffi- 
ciently in  a  state  of  society,  and  yet  prevent 
all  the  usefulness  of  which  he  might  render 
himself  capable.  It  is  only  for  him  to  imitate 
some  of  those  beautiful  and  amiable  exam- 
ples with  which  the  professing  world  in  too 
many  districts  abounds.  Let  him  only  display 
the  arrogance  of  spiritual  pride ;  the  censc- 
riousness  of  superior  orthodoxy ;  the  captious- 
ness  of  theological  controversy  ;  the  rudeness 
and  rancour  of  malevolence  called  faithful- 
ness ;  the  self-conceit,  and  positiveness,  and 
intolerance,  and  insolence  of  those  who  see 
things  clearly ;  the  evangelical  pharasaism, 
if  I  may  be  allowed  a  perversion  of  language, 
of  those  "  who  trust  in  themselves  that  they 
are  righteous,  and  despise  others ;"  and  the 
work  is  effectually  done.  Who  would  ever 
wish  to  be  religious  with  such  specimens  of 
religion  before  his  eyes  7  Who  would  not 
deprecate  the  conversion  of  sinners,  if  they 
were  to  be  converted  by  such  saints  as 
these ! 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  many,  who  are  in 
a  great  measure  free  from  these  incurable 
evils,  do  not  attend  sufficiently  to  the  apos- 
tolical maxim,  "  Walk  in  wisdom  towards 
them  that  are  without."  But  some  few  there 
are  who,  along  with  inflexible  integrity,  pos- 
sess the  secret  of  moral  attraction.  They  dis- 
cover such  a  sympathy  in  their  afflictions,  such 
a  concern  for  their  welfare,  such  a  readiness 
to  serve  them,  as  seldom  fails  to  impress  and 
interest  those  who  neither  think  nor  worship 
with  them.  They  not  only  differ,  but  even 
censure,  without  producing  resentment  or 
alienation.  They  can  drop  hints  so  gentle 
and  well-timed  as  not  to  disgust ;  so  derived 
from  circumstances  and  events  as  to  appear 
natural  and  undesigned ;  so  judicious  in  their 
application  as  to  exemplify  the  proverb  "  A 
word  fitly  spoken,  O  how  good  is  it ;  it  is 
like  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver." 


JOHN  CLARK.  135 

They  study  the  educations,  connexions,  habits, 
prejudices  and  temperament  of  the  individuals 
with  whom  they  have  todo.  They  shun  every 
tendency  to  angry  dispute,  while  they  are 
"  always  ready  to  give  to  every  man  that  ask- 
eth,  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  them  with 
meekness  and  fear."  They  know  that  the 
wrath  of  man  vvorketh  not  the  righteousness 
of  God;"  and  therefore  in  meekness  "instruct 
those  that  oppose  themselves." — They  do  not 
press  what  their  connexions  at  present  are 
not  prepared  to  receive;  but  endeavour  to 
improve  what  is  admitted  and  acknowledged, 
and  which  in  due  time  will  make  way  for 
more.  Instead  of  assailing  every  thing  that 
is  wrong,  they  commend  and  cherish  every 
thing  that  is  right.  They  expel  evil  by  in- 
troducing good;  and  banish  error  by  present- 
ing truth :  and  thus  the  friend  acts  without 
assuming  an  opposition  that  may  render  him 
in  appearance  a  foe.  They  tear  not  the  vo- 
taries of  the  world  from  their  pursuits  by 
violence,  while  their  hearts  would  mourn 
after  the  interdicted  delights ;  but  they  wean 
and  allure  from  dissipation  by  substituting 
other  engagements,  and  pleasures  more  ra- 
tional and  satisfying  ;  and  are  therefore  care- 
ful to  exhibit  "  whatsoever  things  are  lovely 
and  of  good  report ;"  and  to  render  religion 
as  desirable  as  it  is  necessary  ;  as  "  having 
the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  as  well  as 
of  that  which  is  to  come." 

Such  conduct  is  not  the  sacrifice  of  princi- 
ple, but  the  judicious  use  of  it.  It  is  prudence, 
considering  the  quality  of  its  materials,  as 
well  as  its  work  ;  varying  its  means  to  com- 
pass its  end ;  conceding  to  gain,  and  yielding 
to  conquer.  It  is  not  the  cowardice,  but "  the 
meekness  of  wisdom."  And  though  this  wis- 
dom is  never  perceived  in  its  operation,  and 
seldom  acknowledged  even  in  its  useful  re- 
sult, by  blind  and  furious  bigots,  "  it  is  justi- 
fied of  all  her  children."  Was  there  ever  a 
more  steadfast  friend  to  truth  than  Paul  ?  In- 
stead of  betraying  the  cause  he  espoused,  he 
nobly  fell  a  martyr  to  it.  But  what  says  he  1 
"  Though  I  be  free  from  all  men,  yet  have  I 
made  myself  servant  unto  all  that  I  might 
gain  the  more.  And  unto  the  Jews  I  became 
as  a  Jew,  that  I  might  gain  the  Jews;  to 
them  that  are  under  the  law,  as  under  the 
law,  that  I  might  gain  them  that  are  under 
the  law  ;  to  them  that  are  without  the  law, 
as  without  law,  (being  not  without  law  to 
God,  but  under  the  law  to  Christ)  that  I 
might  gain  them  that  are  without  law.  To 
the  weak  became  I  as  weak,  that  I  might 
gain  the  weak :  I  am  made  all  things  to  all 
men,  that  I  might  by  all  means  save  some." 
"  Even  as  I  please  all  men  in  all  things,  not 
seeking  mine  own  profit,  but  the  profit  of 
many,  that  they  may  be  saved." 

It  may  be  necessary  to  touch  another  arti- 
cle of  some  importance  in  the  Christian  life. 
Habits  of  frugality  may  easily  pass  the  line 


136 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


of  duty,  and  enter  the  province  of  the  neigh- 
bouring vice.  People  are  often  in  hazard 
from  this  quarter,  without  apprehending  it. 
Their  religion  teaches  them  to  regard  mode- 
ration as  a  virtue  ;  and  their  circumstances 
perhaps  require  the  practice  of  rigid  economy 
even  to  "  provide  things  honest  in  the  sight 
of  all  men."  What  was  originally  necessary, 
continues  when  it  is  no  longer  indispensable. 
They  who  have  felt  the  worth  of  property  by 
the  want  of  it,  are  apt  to  remember  the  worth 
when  it  is  no  longer  wanted  :  and  as  they  ad- 
vance, not  only  shun  extravagance,  but  that 
becomingly  enlarged  and  liberal  mode  of  live- 
lihood which  will  not  suffer  "their  good  to 
be  evil  spoken  of."  For  if  a  Christian,  espe- 
cially one  of  the  stricter  class,  denies  him- 
self many  things  which  his  condition  allows, 
he  must  be  largely  generous  and  beneficent, 
or  his  profession  suffers  :  his  privations  will 
be  considered  the  offspring  of  niggardliness, 
or  sacrifices  to  mammon. 

But  as  habits  of  frugality  and  economy  may 
very  possibly  be  perverted  and  misrepresent- 
ed ;  so  the  degree  of  beneficence  practised 
by  many  of  our  fellow-christians  cannot  be 
easily  ascertained.  When,  with  regard  to 
oounty,  we  consider  how  much  ought  to  be, 
and  how  much  may  be  private  ;  how  many 
cases  of  distress  come  under  the  notice  of  an- 
other, that  never  strike  our  own ;  how  diversi- 
fied the  views  of  charity  are,  as  well  as  its 
objects,  and  that  those  who  do  not  walk  with 
us  may  do  good  in  their  own  way ;  it  becomes 
us,  in  this  as  well  as  in  many  other  instances, 
to  remember  the  admonition  "  Judge  not,  that 
ye  be  not  judged." 

It  has  been  supposed,  even  by  friendship, 
that  if  Mr.  Clark  required  the  exercise  of 
candour  any  where,  it  would  be  here.  How 
far  it  is  needful  I  cannot  determine.  From 
personal  observation  I  was  never  impressed 
with  the  deficiency.  But  I  can  suppose,  that 
his  abstracted  life  cut  him  off  from  many  ob- 
jects, which  by  striking  the  eye  would  have 
affected  the  heart ;  and  that  the  full  employ- 
ment of  himself  in  a  large  business,  in  literary 
pursuits,  and  constant  preaching,  left  him 
little  leisure  and  opportunity  to  explore  af- 
fliction in  person.  I  can  imagine,  though  I 
do  not  wish  to  justify  the  effect,  that  having 
constantly  had  so  many  of  the  lower  class 
manufacturing  for  him,  he  might  have  had 
blunted,  by  all  the  wickedness  he  witnessed, 
something  of  the  fine  edge  or  humanity  that 
many  of  those  feel,  whose  intercourse  with 
the  poor  and  wretched  is  only  occasional  and 
charitable.  I  know,  that  so  conscious  was 
he  of  the  important  duty  of  liberality,  that  he 
enjoined  his  dearest  friend,  if  she  judged 
it  proper,  to  extend  relief  on  any  application, 
even  should  he  himself  at  the  time  seem  to  be 
disinclined  or  adverse  to  it.  He  was  not  only 
the  tender,  but  the  kind  relative ;  and  amply 
proved  himself  "  a  friend  to  the  fatherless." 


He  even  purchased  the  place  of  worship  in 
which  he  so  long  employed  himself,  and  of 
private  property  made  it  public,  by  putting  it 
into  the  hand  of  trustees ;  and  also  secured 
provision  for  a  considerable  endowment  in  aid 
of  the  future  support  of  divine  worship  there. 
The  sums  expended  for  this  purpose  alone 
were  more  than  one  thousand  pounds.  When 
it  became  necessary  to  have  an  assistant  and 
a  successor,  that  would  require  a  salary  ;  he 
set  his  people  an  example  by  a  very  hand- 
some annual  subscription.  The  profits  that 
might  arise  from  any  of  his  publications,  he 
previously  consecrated  to  benevolent  purpo- 
ses. He  bequeathed  considerable  legacies  to 
the  Bible,  the  Missionary,  the  Hibernian,  and 
Tract  Societies.  And  what  was  his  whole 
life  1  Was  it  not  completely  disinterested  1 
"  They  that  sow  spiritual  things  should  reap 
carnal  things :"  "  and  the  labourer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire."*  It  is  an  ordinance  of  God,  as 
truly  as  baptism  or  the  Lord's  supper  ;  "  even 
so  hath  God  ordained  that  they  that  preach 
the  gospel  should  live  of  the  gospel."  But* 
like  Paul,  our  friend  always  waived  his  privi- 
lege ;  not  only  in  the  infancy  of  the  church, 
but  when  they  were  able  to  remunerate  his 
services:  and  for  all  his  labours  he  never  re- 
ceived one  mite.  He  could  say  without  a 
fear  of  contradiction,  "  I  seek  not  yours  but 
you.  I  have  coveted  no  man's  silver  or  gold, 
or  apparel ;  yea,  ye  yourselves  know  that 
these  hands  have  ministered  unto  my  necessi- 
ties, and  to  them  that  were  with  me."  Many 
may  be  equally  disinterested  and  unsecular  in 
the  sight  of  God,  who  cannot  appear  so  in  the 
view  of  men :  but  it  is  a  singular  advantage 
when  the  proof  can  accompany  and  illustrate 
the  principle. — What  could  have  carried  a 
man  forward,  not  only  without  repentance, 
but  with  delight,  in  so  many  ways,  and  for 
so  many  years,  without  the  prospect  or  the 
wish  of  any  emolument — yea,  at  the  expense 
of  substance,  ease,  friendship,  fame  I  What 
was  it  that  led  him  to  subordinate  worldly 
business  and  the  pursuits  of  science  to  his 
public  work  ]  What  led  him  to  resign  the 
figure  he  might  have  made  as  the  gentleman 
and  the  scholar,  for  the  sake  of  preaching  in 
places  and  circumstances  the  most  revolting 
to  human  pride,  at  the  risk  of  health  and  life  ! 

To  those  who  were  ignorant  of  the  nature 
and  force  of  the  principle  that  actuated  him, 
his  conduct,  doubtless,  appeared  mysterious 
or  insane.  But  neither  their  ignorance,  nor 
their  reproach,  could  make  him  swerve,  or 
pause.  He  could  not  but  speak  the  things 
that  he  had  heard  and  seen.  He  was  a  won- 
der unto  many:  but  he  did  not  view  them 
with  contempt.  He  pitied  them ;  he  prayed 
for  them.    And  though  he  did  not  think  it 

*  Mr.  Clark  somewhere  strikingly  says, 
Must  not.  you'll  say,  a  preacher,  then,  have  bread  ; 
And  feeding  others,  not  himself  be  fed  ? 
—  Tis  true  :  but  here  a  difference  we  conceive — 
Some  live  by  preaching,  and  some  preach  to  live. 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


137 


necessary  to  apologize,  he  explained,  in  lan- 
guage canonized  by  one  who  had  a  larger 
share  of  the  same  spirit :  "  For  whether  we 
be  beside  ourselves,  it  is  to  God :  or  whether 
we  be  sober,  it  is  for  your  cause.  For  the 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,  because  we 
thus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were 
all  dead:  and  that  he  died  for  all,  that  they 
which  live,  should  not  henceforth  live  unto 
themselves,  but  unto  him  which  died  for 
them,  and  rose  again." 

There  are  few,  especially  among  the  mo- 
derns, who  will  bear  any  comparison  with 
the  deceased  in  point  of  activity.  In  labours 
he  was  more  abundant.  He  was  in  season, 
and  out  of  season.  He  knew  that  souls  were 
perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge,  and  that  his 
opportunities  of  saving  them  from  death, 
were  limited  and  uncertain.  He  spent  "  the 
day" — it  is  called  no  more ; — not  in  idleness, 
or  wavering  resolves,  but  in  exertion ;  for  he 
saw  "  the  night  coming  wherein  no  man  can 
work."  Is  it  possible  for  a  preacher  to  read 
his  narrative  1  Is  it  possible  for  him  to  re- 
flect how  often  he  engaged  in  public  and  in 
private?  In  how  many  places  he  proclaimed 
the  word  of  life"!  The  quantity  of  fresh 
ground  he  broke  up — and  all  this  under  the 
engagements  and  perplexities  he  felt  from 
secular  concerns — and  not  be  ashamed  or — 
inflamed  by  it  i 

His  labours  were  distinguished  by  their 
usefulness,  as  well  as  by  their  greatness. 
His  preaching  laid  the  foundation  of  many 
religious  societies  in  the  surrounding  neigh- 
bourhood. But  to  Trowbridge  we  princi- 
pally look  for  evidence  that  he  did  not  "  run 
in  vain,  nor  labour  in  vain."  Beginning  with 
three  or  four  individuals  in  a  private  room, 
we  behold  him  at  length  at  the  head  of  a 
congregation  of  considerably  more  than  a 
thousand  people  on  the  Lord's-day,  eager  to 
hear  the  gracious  words  that  proceeded  out 
of  his  mouth.  What  a  number  of  converts 
will  be  his  joy  and  crown  "  in  the  day  of  the 
Lord  Jesus."  What  a  number  of  souls  en- 
compassed the  mouth  of  his  grave,  and  by 
their  tears  acknowledged — "There  lies  the 
man  that  turned  my  feet  into  the  path  of 
peace."  "  My  father,  my  father,  the  chariots 
of  Israel,  and  the  horsemen  thereof." 

Other  ministers  have  gone  to  churches  al- 
ready formed  and  established,  but  he  had  to 
form  and  establish  one.  Some  plant,  and 
others  water,  but  he  planted  and  watered, 
though  it  was  God  that  gave  the  increase. 
Some  lay  the  foundation,  and  others  rear  the 
building,  but  he  laid  the  foundation,  and  with 
united  patience  and  zeal,  from  time  to  time, 
added  "  the  lively  stones  that  grew  unto  an 
holy  temple  in  the  Lord."  It  could  not  be 
said  to  him — "  other  men  have  laboured,  and 
ye  have  entered  into  their  labours."  He  did 
not  move  "  in  another  man's  line  of  things 
made  ready  to  his  hand ;"  but  he  could  say — 
S  12* 


"I  have  strived  to  preach  the  gospel,  not 
where  Christ  was  named,  lest  I  should  build 
on  another  man's  foundation;  but  as  it  is 
written,  To  whom  he  was  not  spoken,  they 
shall  see ;  and  they  that  have  not  heard  shall 
understand." — Thus  he  practised  himself, 
what  in  a  poem  he  has  recommended  to 
another : — 

Be  you  no  parly  man  :  but  strive  to  bring 
New  subjects  daily  to  your  heav'nly  King. 
A  gospel  preacher  shoulil  bo  apt  to  tench, — 
And  where  the  gospel  is  not  pieach'd — to  preach. 

Mr.  Clark  was  a  man  by  no  means  de- 
ficient in  literature.    He  had  been  early 
placed  at  a  good  grammar  school,  where  he 
made  proficiency  in  the  Latin.    He  became 
also  familiar  with  Greek  and  Hebrew.  He 
had  a  very  strong  attachmemt  to  the  arts  and 
sciences  through  life.  Mechanics,  astronomy, 
electricity,   chemistry,   music — these  were 
his  delight,  and  employed  the  moments  he 
could  save  from  his  secular  and  sacred  en- 
gagements.   In  music  he  was  a  good  per- 
former on  several  instruments.    He  was 
also  a  composer;  and  published  a  volume  of 
tunes,  which  were  revised  by  a  very  skilful 
hand.    He  had  a  soul  formed  for  melody. 
Besides  an  organ  in  the  Tabernacle,  he  had 
two  in  his  own  mansion — one  in  a  large 
stair-case,  surrounded  with  a  gallery  pre- 
pared to  receive  it;  and  one  in  another 
apartment,  which  was  entirely  of  his  own 
construction,  as  well  as  a  spinnet,  and  a  vio- 
loncello.   Many  curious  and  useful  works 
remain  as  proofs  of  his  delight  and  ingenuity 
in  mechanism.    I  cannot  imagine  that  I  am 
sinking  a  biographical  sketch,  in  mentioning 
things  like  these,  especially  in  such  an  ex- 
ample.   Knowledge  of  every  kind  is  orna- 
mental and  valuable.    The  skill  of  Bezalcel 
is  noticed  by  God  himself  as  one  of  his  own 
gifts:  "I  have  filled  him  with  my  spirit  in 
wisdom  and  in  understanding,  and  in  all 
manner  of  workmanship:  to  devise  cunning 
works ;  to  work  in  gold,  and  in  silver,  and  in 
brass,  and  in  cutting  of  stones,  to  set,  and  in 
carving  of  timber." — It  may  be  proved  from 
the  case  of  Mr.  Clark,  that  evangelical  and 
serious  religion  is  not,  as  some  suppose,  ne- 
cessarily combined  with  rudeness,  and  dull- 
ness.   He  was  not  a  gospel  savage.    In  his 
dwelling,  in  his  gardens,  in  his  walks;  taste 
and  elegance  were  seen  leading  along  piety, 
who  instead  of  churlishly  refusing  their  of- 
fer, accepted  it  with  a  smile,  and  walked 
hand  in  hand  with  them.    You  were  cheer- 
ful without  being  vain ;  and  serious  without 
being  sad :  you  were  instructed  and  im- 
proved, while  you  were  attracted  and  charm- 
ed. On  a  large  sun  dial,  another  work  of  his 
own  hands,  you  saw  Pro  temj'ore  tantam. 
On  the  front  of  one  of  his  own  made  instru- 
ments, you  read  Manu,  Ore,  CorJe.    On  an 
apparatus  which  he  formed  to  exhibit  the 


138 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


revolutions  of  the  celestial  bodies,  "  The 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
firmament  showeth  his  handy  work."  And 
here  I  cannot  omit  a  circumstance  which  is 
characteristic  of  the  man,  and  serves  to  show  i 
how  knowledge  may  be  rendered  useful,  even  i 
in  a  way  of  charity.  In  the  time  of  the  scar- 
city of  corn,  in  addition  to  what  he  gave  him- 
self, he  devised  this  kind  of  orrery,  and  lec- 
tured at  the  tabernacle  on  astronomy ;  and 
obtained,  by  tickets  of  admission  of  half-a-  i 
crown  each,  a  considerable  sum  to  distribute  i 
among  the  poor.  i 

None  that  knew  him  will  deny  that  he 
was  a  man  of  great  ingenuity,  and  endowed 
with  superior  talents.    This,  I  allow,  is  not 
easily  inferred  from  his  own  memoir.  In 
writings  of  this  kind  there  is  an  established 
mode,  from  whicli  it  would  seem  there  is  to 
be  no  deviation.    Even  those  who  are  capa- 
ble of  improving  it,  are  restrained  by  custom, 
or  some  unaccountable  principle;  so  that  the 
degree  of  genius  they  possess,  instead  of 
actuating  their  piety,  is  chilled  and  checked 
by  it.    Hence  all  religious  journals  are  pre- 
cisely alike.    They  tell  something,  but  omit 
that  which  we  are  most  anxious  to  know. 
We  see  indeed  the  goodness  of  the  man,  but 
not  the  individuality.    We  view  the  mind, 
but  it  is  through  a  strait  and  contracted  pas- 
sage, like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock  through 
a  circle  of  glass,  in  the  body  of  the  frame : 
we  see  it  is  going,  but  all  the  motion  we  ob- 
serve, is  vacillation.    We  have  repetitions 
of  the  same  feelings,  and  the  same  phrases. 
A  work  of  this  class  might  be  rendered,  by 
a  man  of  talent  and  remark,  as  well  as  devo- 
tion, a  very  interesting,  a  very  instructive, 
and  a  very  useful  publication.    Mr.  Clark 
had  made  one  improvement.    He  did  not 
keep  a  diary,  but  wrote  a  weekly  retrospect ; 
and  did  it  in  the  silence  and  sacredness  of  the 
sabbath-day  morning.    But  it  must  be  con- 
fessed this  is  all ;  and  I  have  witnessed  more 
intellect  from  him  in  one  hour's  conversation, 
or  in  one  of  his  free  addresses  from  the 
pulpit,  than  I  found  in  going  over  all  these 
papers.    He  had  a  fine  imagination,  that  sel- 
dom failed  to  furnish  him  with  the  most 
happy  allusions  and  illustrations.    He  was 
able  to  simplify  and  bring  down  to  popular 
apprehension,  almost  any  train  of  thought. 
He  had  a  facility  in  varying  a  few  well- 
known  truths,  so  as  to  give  to  sameness  the 
effect  of  novelty.    He  could  derive  materials 
for  his  public  discourses  from  the  most  com- 
mon objects  and  occurrences.    He  studied 
men  and  things  rather  than  pored  over  books : 
hence  in  his  sermons  there  was  the  freshness 
of  nature  rather  than  the  mechanism  of  art: 
and  thus  while  engaged  in  business,  he  was 
not  only  able  to  preach,  but  to  attract  and 
keep  large  and  constantly  increasing  au- 
diences.   Though  he  never  thought  of  study- 
ing oratory,  his  address  was  easy,  and  fluent, 


and  correct ;  and  though  his  discourses  were 
not  modelled  after  the  forms  of  the  schools, 
they  were  so  affectionate  and  experimental 
as  always  to  excite  interest  and  attention: 
and  they  who  heard,  could  not  but  listen  to 
addresses,  which  they  knew  sprang  only 
from  a  concern  for  their  welfare,  and  which, 
instead  of  flourishing  in  abstract  theory,  and 
general  declamation,  touched  their  case,  and 
expressed  their  pains  and  pleasures,  hopes 
and  fears :  addresses  which  were  always 
adapted  to  break  a  whole  heart,  or  to  bind  up 
a  broken  one. 

To  conclude:  He  was  an  original  cha- 
racter. There  was  a  class  to  which  he  be- 
longed, but  he  was  unique  in  it.  He  asso- 
ciated attributes  rarely  found  blended  in  the 
same  individual.  It  would  be  easy  to  exem- 
plify this  assertion. 

— Here  was  a  man  full  of  diffidence  and 
reserve,  yet  distinguished  by  active  exertion ; 
shrinking  from  private  company,  as  much  as 
Cowper,  and  yet  apprehensive  of  no  difficulty 
or  danger  in  his  public  work,  and  seeking 
after  opportunities  to  make  known  the  sa- 
vour of  the  Redeemer's  knowledge  in  every 
place. 

— A  pastor,  yet  in  trade ;  a  minister  of  un- 
common zeal,  yet  attentive  to  business,  and 
acquiring  affluence. 

— A  preacher,  fixing  upon  his  subjects  in 
the  place  of  worship,  and  deriving  them  from 
the  chapters  he  read,  yet  never  obliged  to 
leave  off  or  to  talk  nonsense  by  going  on ; 
always  extemporaneous,  yet  never  without 
order ;  and  generally  seizing  a  method  as  na- 
tural as  it  was  prompt. 

— Connected  originally  with  no  denomina- 
tion, and  shunned  by  the  rigid  of  all  parties ; 
yet  at  length  gaining  the  good-will  and 
warm  approbation  of  every  neighbouring 
minister  and  congregation;  and  departing 
under  their  blessing  and  regret. 

— Preaching  out  of  the  church,  and  giving 
rise  to  dissenting  congregations;  and  yet  at- 
tached to  the  establishment,  not  only  at  first, 
but  to  the  end  of  life, — and  not  only  as  to  its 
doctrine,  but  its  liturgy  and  forms. 

— Principally  labouring  among  the  poor 
and  common  people ;  often  preaching  with- 
out doors  in  the  streets  and  hedges,  and  pass- 
ing with  many  for  a  fanatic ;  yet  a  man  of 
substance,  countenanced  by  persons  of  emi- 
nent character  and  reputation  in  their  day,* 
fond  of  elegant  learning,  pursuing  philoso- 
phical experiments,  passing  his  leisure  hours 
in  leading  forward  his  son  in  every  branch 
of  knowledge : — his  study  exhibiting  scarcely 

*  To  mention  no  more:  The  late  celebrated  Dr. 
Stonehouse,  as  appears  from  the  Memoir,  more  than 
;   countenanced  him  when  he  preached  without  doors  in 
the  vicinity  of  his  living.  And  the  Rev.  James  Roquett, 
of  lamented  memory,  curate  of  St.  Werbureh's,  lecturer 
■   of  St.  Nicholas'  churches,  and  chaplain  of  St.  Teter'a 
Hospital,  Bristol ;  also  chaplain  to  the  right  honoura- 
ble the  earl  Deloraine;  opened  his  chapel,  and  preach- 
i   ed  several  years  on  the  anniversary  of  the  day. 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


139 


a  religious  publication,  and  only  containing 
works  of  literature  and  scientific  apparatus. 

Who  can  help  seeing,  therefore,  how 
prone  we  are  to  err  in  judging  of  men  by 
outward  appearance,  by  common  circum- 
stances, by  the  class  in  which  they  usually 
rank.  From  every  general  rule  there  are 
exceptions.  In  every  community  there  are 
characters,  that  must  not  be  measured  by  the 
ordinary  standard.  Indiscriminate  reflections 
are  always  foolish  and  unjust.  Many,  whose 
ignorant  and  illiberal  minds  are  now  asking, 
"Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth?" 
would  be  astonished  if  by  accident  they  were 
to  associate  for  a  time  with  individuals  of  the 
bodies  they  censure  in  the  mass ;  and  if  they 
could  know  them  personally  before  they  were 
informed  of  their  canton  or  their  clan,  they 
would  value  them,  they  would  be  attracted 
towards  them,  and  find  a  thousand  points  of 
amiable  and  useful  contact,  where  they  would 
otherwise  suppose  there  could  be  nothing  but 
dissimilarity  and  mutual  repulsion.  What 
pleasure  and  advantage  are  often  lost  in 
neighbourhoods  by  the  prevalence  of  preju- 
dice, that  keeps  wise  and  worthy  men  at  such 
a  distance  as  to  prevent  their  appreciating 
and  loving  one  another.  Surely  if  certain 
distinctions  are  deemed  necessary  in  the  pre- 
sent state,  and  restrict  professional  exertions ; 
they  need  not  forbid  personal  esteem  and  in- 
tercourse. 

And  to  take  a  higher  view. — As  the  sub- 
jects of  divine  grace,  under  all  the  denomina- 
tions that  distinguish  us,  we  belong  to  one 
family;  and  are,  therefore,  much  more  inti- 
mately related,  than  the  votaries  of  any  party 
can  be  united.  If  I  am  a  real  Christian, 
whether  an  episcopalian,  a  dissenter,  or  a 
methodist,  I  am  your  brother  in  the  highest 
sense  God  himself  can  affix  to  the  term: 
hence  you  are  not  at  liberty  to  determine 
how  you  shall  feel  and  behave  towards  me : 
you  are  bound  to  love  me ;  and  without  this 
love,  your  religion  is  a  dream.  "  By  this 
shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples, 
if  ye  love  one  another."  "  We  know  that 
we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life,  because 
we  love  the  brethren."  Are  we  advancing 
to  a  world,  where,  it  will  not  be  inquired  by 
what  name  we  were  called,  but  whether  we 
"  walked  in  newness  of  life :"  not  whether 
we  served  God  in  a  particular  place,  but  wor- 
shipped him  who  is  a  spirit  in  spirit  and  in 
truth'?  Should  we  not  endeavour  to  rise, 
and  approximate  this  state  ?  Must  not  a  pre- 
paration for  it  consist  in  a  resemblance  of  it  1 
Should  we  lay  more  stress  on  that  which  is 
ready  to  vanish  away,  than  on  that  which  is 
destined  to  be  eternal,  and  is  therefore  in- 
finitely superior  in  importance? 

If  God  has  promised  unity  among  his  own 
followers,  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it 
has  been  accomplished.  But  we  see  men 
equally  led  by  the  spirit  of  God,  and  devoted 


to  his  will,  differing'  from  each  other  on  num- 
berless subjects.  So  it  always  has  been. 
And  so  it  always  will  be.  Religion  is  not 
injured  by  it:  nor  has  the  Scripture  spoken 
in  vain.  It  never  intended  any  thing  more 
than  unity  with  variety;  an  accordance  in 
great  things,  and  difference  in  little  ones.  If 
communities  or  individuals  pursue  an  uni- 
formity of  opinions,  ceremonies,  discipline, 
forms  and  modes  of  worship,  they  are  first 
seeking  that  which  is  impossible :  for  the  at- 
tempt has  been  fairly  made,  and  has  proved 
useless :  men  may  as  well  be  constrained  or 
persuaded  into  an  uniformity  of  stature — of 
complexion — of  temper.  And  secondly,  they 
are  seeking  after  that  which  would  be  un- 
profitable. The  advantage  lies  in  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things.  The  cultivation  of  such 
dispositions,  and  the  practice  of  such  duties, 
as  the  exercise  of  humility,  forbearance,  self- 
denial,  candour,  and  brotherly  love  implies, 
are  far  more  valuable  and  useful  than  a  dull, 
stagnant  conformity  of  notions  or  usages. — It 
is  awfully  possible  for  persons  to  be  very 
strenuous  about  the  "  mint,  anise,  and  cum- 
min," while  they  neglect  "the  weightier 
matters  of  the  law  ;"  and  to  contend  for  the 
forms  of  godliness,  while  they  are  destitute 
of  its  power.  Indeed  these  are  commonly 
proportioned  to  each  other.  The  best  way  to 
moderate  an  undue  zeal  for  the  external  and 
circumstantial  appendages  of  religion  is,  to 
impress  the  mind  more  fully  with  the  spirit 
and  the  substance  of  it.  As  we  regard  seri- 
ous and  important  things,  we  shall  be  drawn 
off  from  trifling  ones :  our  time  will  be  occu- 
pied ;  our  attention  will  be  elevated ;  our 
views  will  be  enlarged. 

Let  me  conclude  the  remark  in  the  lan- 
guage of  a  man,  who  was  peculiarly  qualified 
to  speak  on  this  subject,  having  so  amply 
illustrated  in  his  preaching  and  in  his  life,  the 
happy  combination  of  liberality  of  feeling, 
with  firmness  of  conviction ;  of  friendly  inter- 
course, with  attachment  to  order  ;  of  toler- 
ance in  little  things,  with  zeal  in  great  ones. 
"  The  true  unity  of  spirit,"  says  the  incom- 
parable Mr.  Newton,  "  is  derived  from  the 
things  in  which  those  who  are  taught  and 
born  of  God  agree,  and  should  not  be  affected 
by  those  in  which  they  differ.  The  church 
of  Christ,  collectively  considered,  is  an  army ; 
they  serve  under  one  Prince,  have  one  com- 
mon interest,  and  are  opposed  by  the  same 
enemies.  This  army  is  kept  up,  and  the 
place  of  those  who  are  daily  removed  to  the 
church  triumphant,  supplied  entirely  by  those 
who  are  rescued  and  won  from  the  power  of 
the  adversary,  which  is  chiefly  effected  by 
the  gospel  ministry.  This  consideration 
should  remind  ministers  that  it  is  highly  im- 
proper (I  might  use  a  stronger  expression)  to 
waste  much  of  their  time  and  talents,  which 
ought  to  be  employed  against  the  common 
foe,  in  opposing  those  who,  thougli  they  can- 


140 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


not  exactly  agree  with  them  in  every  small- 
er point,  are  perfectly  agreed,  and  ready  to 
concur  with  them,  in  promoting  their  prin- 
cipal design.  A  wise  statesman,  who  lias  a 
point  much  at  heart  which  lie  cannot  carry 
without  assistance,  will  gladly  accept  of  help 
from  persons  of  all  parties  on  whom  he  can 
prevail  to  join  with  him ;  and  will  not,  at  such 
a  crisis,  preclude  himself  from  this  advant- 
age, by  an  unseasonable  discussion,  of  more 
minute  concerns,  in  which  he  knows  they 
must,  and  will  be  against  him.  When  I  see 
ministers  of  acknowledged  piety  and  respect- 
able abilities,  very  busy  in  defending  or  con- 
futing the  smaller  differences  which  already 
too  much  separate  those  who  ought  to  be  of 
one  heart  and  of  one  mind,  though,  while 
they  are  fallible,  they  cannot  be  exactly  of 
one  judgment;  I  give  them  credit  for  their 
good  intention,  but  I  cannot  help  lamenting 
the  misapplication  of  their  zeal,  which,  if 
directed  into  another  channel,  would  proba- 
bly make  them  much  more  successful  in  con- 
verting souls.  Let  us  sound  an  alarm  in  the 
enemies'  camp,  but  not  in  our  own ! — I  have 
somewhere  met  with  a  passage  of  ancient 
history;  the  substance  of  which,  though  my 
recollection  of  it  is  but  imperfect,  I  will  re- 
late : — 'Two  large  bodies  of  force  fell  in  with 
each  other  in  a  dark  night.  A  battle  imme- 
diately ensued.  The  attack  and  the  resist- 
ance were  supported  with  equal  spirit.  The 
contest  was  fierce  and  bloody.  Great  was 
the  slaughter  on  bot  h  sides,  and  on  both  sides 
they  were  on  the  point  of  claiming  the  vic- 
tory ;  when  the  day  broke,  and  as  the  light 
advanced,  they  soon  perceived  to  their  as- 
tonishment and  grief;  that  they  had  been 
fighting,  not  with  enemies,  as  they  had  sup- 
posed, but  with  friends  and  allies.  They  had 
been  doing  their  enemies'  work,  and  weaken- 
ing the  cause  they  wished  to  support.  The 
expectation  of  each  party  to  conquer  the  other, 
was  founded  upon  the  losses  the  opponents 
had  sustained;  and  this  was  what  proportion- 
ably  aggravated  their  lamentation  and  dis- 
tress, when  they  had  sufficient  light  to  show 
them  the  mischief  they  had  done.'  Ah !  my 
friends,  if  shame  be  compatible  with  the  hea- 
venly state,  as  perhaps,  in  a  sense  it  may, 
(for  believers,  when  most  happy  here,  are 
most  sensibly  ashamed  of  themselves,)  shall 
we  not  even  then  be  ashamed  to  think  how 
often,  in  this  dark  world,  we  mistook  our 
friends  for  foes ;  and  that,  while  we  thought 
we  were  even  fighting  for  the  cause  of  God 
and  truth,  we  were  wounding  and  worrying 
the  people  whom  he  loved ;  and  perhaps  in- 
dulging our  own  narrow,  selfish,  party  pre- 
judices, under  the  semblance  of  zeal  for  his 
glory?" 

— Again.  Is  it  possible  to  read  such  a 
narrative  as  the  foregoing,  and  not  see  the 
falsehood  and  infamy  of  reproaching  men  of 


Mr.  Clark's  sentiments  as  Antinomians,  or 
even  as  persons  who  lay  very  little  stress  on 
the  practical  part  of  the  gospel  1  If  they  are 
ministers  that  urge  the  scandal,  I  would  say 
— "  Candidly  examine  these  materials.  I  do 
not  expect  you  to  approve  of  ev  ery  thing  you 
meet  with;  but  distinguish  things  that  differ. 
Observe  what  an  attention  from  the  begin- 
ning and  throughout  Mr.  Clark  paid  to  the 
moral  character  and  conduct  of  the  members 
he  admitted ;  and  when  under  no  sway,  but 
the  influence  of  his  own  principles ;  principles 
which  he  knew  required  such  sanctity,  and 
would  produce  it  when  properly  embraced." 
I  would  say — "Bring  forward  your  own 
standard  of  practical  religion,  and  let  us  see 
its  elevation  and  purity.  Are  all  those  clean 
who  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord  with  you  1 
Would  one  instance  of  intoxication  lay  aside 
an  official  character  in  your  community] 
Would  smuggling  exclude  from  the  Lord's 
table  with  you  !  Would  domestic  broils  sus- 
pend a  member  from  your  communion,  till  the 
force  of  reproof  was  felt,  and  the  justice  of  it 
acknowledged  ?" 

But  it  seems  to  demand  an  apology  to 
notice  sucli  cavils,  and  which  I  fear  oftener 
originate  in  malignity  than  in  ignorance. 
When  good  men,  crucified  to  the  world,  and 
labouring  to  serve  their  generation  by  the 
will  of  God,  are  alarmed,  they  deserve  atten- 
tion and  explanation.  They  really  value  the 
interests  of  holiness  and  good  works  :  and  it 
is  desirable  to  remove  their  fears,  by  showing 
them,  from  reasoning  and  from  facts,  that 
their  pious  apprehensions  are  groundless.  But 
where  persons  give  no  evidence  of  their  re- 
gard for  the  glory  of  God,  or  the  welfare  of 
man ;  where  they  worship  nothing  but  "  the 
god  of  tiiis  world"  all  the  week,  and  on  the 
sabbath  express  their  regrets  and  fears — we 
feel  very  differently.  They  cannot  be  in 
earnest;  their  complaints  and  clamours  are 
railings  or  pretences.  What  are  holiness 
and  good  works  to  them  1  We  are  here  re- 
minded of  another  objector  ;  who  with  a  sad 
face  and  a  pitiful  voice  exclaimed,  when  he 
saw  Mary's  zeal,  "  Why  is  this  waste  1  Why 
was  not  this  ointment  sold  for  three  hundred 
pence,  and  given  to  the  poor  V  An  ignorant 
by-stander  would  have  supposed  tiiat  his  heart 
was  full  of  compassion.  But  he  who  knew 
what  was  in  man,  tells  us  "  That  he  said  this, 
not  that  he  cared  for  the  poor,  but  because  he 
was  a  thief,  and  had  the  bag,  and  bare  what 
was  put  therein." 

— Mr.  Clark  knew  and  preached  the  im- 
portance of  faith  ;  and  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  say  more  in  honour  of  it  than  the 
sacred  writers  have  done  before  him.  But 
what  did  he  include  in  his  notion  of  faith, 
and  what  did  he  connect  with  it  1  An  ex- 
tract from  one  of  his  hymns  will  justly  ex- 
press his  sentiment : 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


141 


That  we  arc  saved  by  faith  alone 

God's  holy  word  asserts  ; 
But  pride  the  doctrine  will  disown, 

And  wickedness  perverts. 

An  empty  notion  sonic  profess,  • 

And  think  they  now  believe ; 
As  if  to  see,  was  to  possess, 

To  know  was  to  receive. 

— But  those  who  most  themselves  deceive, 

And  sure  destruction  win, 
Are  such  who  boast  that  they  believe, 

And  yet  are  slaves  to  sin. 

— Faith  is  an  all-subduing  power. 

All-purifying  grace; 
Of  holiness  brings  forth  the  flower. 

And  fruits  of  righteousness. 

I  wish  this  circumstance  to  be  the  more  re- 
marked, not  only  because  the  reflections  to 
which  I  have  alluded  have  been  uncommonly 
spread  and  patronized  of  late,  but  also  because 
there  was  nothing  in  the  form  and  government 
of  this  society  that  was  peculiar.  Whatever 
little  difference  there  may  be  in  other  things, 
with  regard  to  this  subject,  the  narrative  is  but 
a  fair  specimen  of  the  attention  paid  to  the 
religion  of  the  individuals  when  admitted,  and 
as  long  as  they  are  continued  in  all  the 
churches  of  the  orthodox  dissenters  and  me- 
thodists.  It  is  not  pretended  that  all  these 
members  are  unfeignedly  pious.  There  is  no 
guarding  against  the  intrusion  of  hypocrites 
into  any  society,  however  strictly  constituted 
or  administered:  but  moral  character  and 
conduct  are  essential  to  membership :  and  it 
is  surely  sufficient  to  exonerate  a  body  of  peo- 
ple from  reproach,  when  its  adherents  as  soon 
as  they  are  detected  are  disowned. 

— Let  those  also  look  over  the  memoirs  of 
this  man,  who  suspect  that  in  certain  societies 
a  great  deal  of  disaffection  to  government  is 
always  secretly  working  and  cherished.  What 
seditious  practices  will  they  find  in  the  pro- 
ceedings here  related  !  What  of  a  dark  and 
a  suspicious  nature  will  they  discover  in  any 
of  these  public  or  private  meetings  ?  If  they 
pronounce  the  exercises  in  whicli  these  de- 
luded creatures  engaged  foolish,  they  cannot 
say  they  were  dangerous.  They  were  not  of 
a  political  character  or  tendency.  If  ever  these 
people  and  their  minister  had  a  reference  to 
public  affairs,  it  was  purely  religious;  it  was 
for  the  purpose  of  humiliation  and  prayer;  and 
while  many  of  their  enemies  were  drinking, 
and  swearing,  and  defaming,  to  show  their 
loyalty,  they  were  individually  and  conjointly 
mourning  over  the  sins  of  the  land,  and  sup- 
plicating the  throne  of  grace  for  protection 
and  deliverance. 

By  inspecting  these  papers  a  man  may  see 
how  Christian  societies  are  formed,  where  no- 
thing but  toleration  is  expected  from  the  secu- 
lar power.  He  will  see  that  in  these  commu- 
nities there  is  nothing  compulsory ;  all  is 
founded  in  conviction,  in  choice,  in  spiritual 
friendship.  He  will  see  that  the  calling  of  the 
Christian  does  not  sacrifice,  but  ratify  and 
sanctify  the  rights  of  the  man. — He  may 


compare  these  societies  with  the  primitive 
churches,  when  no  system  was  established  or 
endowed.    He  may  observe  the  adaptation 
there  is  in  them  to  diffuse  themselves,  and  to 
multiply;  their  fitness  for  missionary  exer- 
tions; their  simple,  unperplexed,  unembar- 
rassed mode  of  operation  in  evangelizing  a 
heathen  country.  He  may  compare  them  with 
the  profit  of  the  individuals  composing  them 
— with  the  injunctions  of  Scripture  to  watch 
over  one  another,  to  consider  one  another,  to 
provoke  one  another  to  love  and  to  good  works 
— with  the  admonition  of  the  apostle,  "  Com- 
fort yourselves  together,  and  edify  one  an- 
other, even  as  also  ye  do."  "  Warn  them  that 
•  are  unruly,  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  sup- 
port the  weak,  be  patient  unto  all  men" — with 
the  exercise  of  brotherly  reproof,  the  support 
of  discipline,  the  purity  of  the  Lord's  table, 
and  our  Lord's  rule — "If  thy  brother  shall 
trespass  against  thee,  go  and  tell  him  his  fault 
between  thee  and  him  alone.  If  he  shall  hear 
thee,  thou  hast  gained  thy  brother.    But  if 
he  will  not  hear  thee,  then  take  with  thee  one 
or  two  more,  that  in  the  mouth  of  two  or  three 
witnesses  every  word  may  be  established. 
And  if  he  shall  neglect  to  hear  them,  tell  it 
unto  the  church :  but  if  he  neglect  to  hear 
the  church,  let  him  be  unto  thee  as  a  heathen 
man  and  a  publican." — He  may  take  occasion 
from  hence  to  inquire,  whether  there  is  any 
thing  like  mystery  in  church  government. 
He  may  ask  whether  it  was  necessary  for  the 
Scripture  to  frame  any  particular  or  definite 
system  upon  the  subject.  He  will  see  whether 
the  influence  which  the  gospel  supplies,  and 
the  general  laws  it  lays  down,  are  not  suffi- 
cient to  guide  us  in  all  circumstances  ;  and 
whether,  as  where  there  is  no  law  there  is 
no  transgression,  any  injury  can  result  from 
different  administrations,  varying  with  times 
and  circumstances,  and  equally  allowing  of 
communion  with  God  and  social  edification. 

But  some  may  be  ready  to  ask  what  au- 
thority had  such  a  man  to  preach  at  all  1  And 
the  question  is  easily  answered. — With  re- 
gard to  his  own  people ;  their  choice  and  ap- 
probation.— With  reo-ard  to  the  country  in 
which  he  resided ;  the  law  of  the  land  ac- 
knowledging, sanctioning,  and  protecting  his 
labours. — With  regard  to  God;  command,  in- 
clination, capacity,  opportunity,  success. 

Some  things  are  usually,  and  some  things 
are  usefully,  connected  with  the  ministerial 
office,  that  are  by  no  means  inseparable  from 
the  essence  of  it.  Mr.  Clark  was  not  regu- 
larly inducted,  nor  had  he  an  academical  en- 
trance. We  are  far  from  despising  order;  or 
supposing  that  learning  is  of  little  importance. 
Institutions  established  to  prepare  men  for 
their  public  work,  are  of  great  utility  ;  and  as 
God  has,  in  the  course  of  his  providence,  fur- 
nished our  churches  with  them,  we  would 
earnestly  recommend,  that  those  who  are  en- 
couraged to  give  up  themselves  to  the  minis- 


142 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


try  of  the  word,  should  avail  themselves  of 
the  advantage.  At  the  present  season  we 
should  the  more  urge  it,  not  only  for  the  in- 
valuable benefits  derivable  from  them,  but  to 
suit  the  character  of  the  times,  and  the  state 
of  many  congregations,  in  which  mere  zeal 
would  not,  as  formerly,  secure  attention ;  and 
also  to  keep  back  many,  who,  as  one  justly 
observes,  while  they  declaim  against  men- 
made  preachers,  are  fond  enough  of  self-made 
preachers,  and  go  forth  with  no  advice  but 
from  their  ignorance ;  with  no  consultation 
but  with  their  own  presumption,  by  which  so 
many  settled  ministers  have  thorns  planted  in 
their  nests,  and  schisms  formed  and  upheld  in 
their  neighbourhoods. 

Of  old  in  Israel,  there  were  "  schools  of  the 
prophets,"  from  which  God  generally  took  his 
servants :  and  thus  he  honoured  the  use  of 
means.  But  he  occasionally  called  a  messen- 
ger from  a  different  condition;  and  by  en- 
dowing and  succeeding  him,  showed  that  he 
was  not  bound  to  the  use  of  them.  And  he 
does  the  same  now.  He  gives  us  rules  to  go 
by ;  but  he  will  not  confine  himself.  While 
he  discountenances  the  fanatic,  he  can  pour 
contempt  upon  the  formalist ;  and  teach  those 
who  love  means  not  to  idolize  them.  And 
when  he  produces  exceptions,  the  circum- 
stances will  justify  them;  and  the  general 
rule  will  be  confirmed  rather  than  invalidated. 
It  should  therefore  be  remembered,  that  Mr. 
Clark  was  a  man  of  education  and  knowledge : 
he  had  been  prepared  for  his  work,  though  in 
a  peculiar  way ;  and  made  every  source  of 
his  improvement  contribute  to  aid  his  public 
work. — It  will  be  well  if  some  of  those  who 
deny  the  validity  of  his  claim  to  the  office  he 
filled,  are  able  to  produce  the  same  number 
of  seals  to  their  ministry  as  we  have  reason 
to  believe  will  authenticate  his:  or,  as  all 
who  are  alike  called,  are  not  equally  success- 
ful, if  they  are  happy  enough  to  hear  the 
same  commendation — "  Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord."  While  many  differ  about  trifles; 
while  they  are  disputing  how  the  work  shall 
be  done,  and  who  shall  do  it,  and  do  nothing ; 
such  a  man  as  this  steps  forward,  and  bears  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  is  dismissed 
to  receive  a  reward  dispensed  by  a  rule  too 
frequently  overlooked :  "  They  that  be  wise 
shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament ; 
and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as 
the  stars  for  ever  and  ever."  Solomon  tells 
us  "  He  that  winneth  souls  is  wise."  And 
our  friend,  in  admonishing  a  young  minister 
has  said — 

Seek  to  be  useful  more  than  to  excel; 
Who  does  his  work  effectual,  does  it  well. 
— Whatever  curious  critics  may  commend, 
Sure  that's  done  best  that  answers  best  the  end : 
And  preachers  would  be  gainers  on  the  whole, 
To  mar  a  period,  and  to  save  a  soul. 

But  was  not  Mr.  Clark  an  enthusiast  1  De- 


fine the  term,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  answer. 
If  you  mean  by  enthusiast,  a  man  that  pre- 
tends to  new  revelations  from  Heaven,  and 
governs  himself  by  impulses  regardless  of  the 
written  word ;  if  you  mean  a  man  that  takes 
it  for  granted  he  is  a  favourite  of  Heaven,  and 
riots  on  high  in  the  privileges  of  the  gospel, 
neglectful  of  the  low  claims  of  duty  and  com- 
mon sense :  who  consults  his  imagination  in- 
stead of  his  judgment;  who,  void  of  humility 
and  caution,  never  supposes  himself  fallible — 
never  doubts  his  rectitude  or  his  wisdom,  and 
therefore  never  pauses  or  inquires  :  who  only 
thinks  of  his  mark,  but  never  examines  the 
road  he  is  to  go,  or  the  ground  he  is  to  tread : 
who  is  indifferent  to  the  rationality  of  his  con- 
duct, insensible  to  the  proprieties  of  life,  and 
so  engrossed  with  a  favourite  point  as  to  re- 
semble a  man  walking  in  his  sleep,  naked 
and  staring,  yet  feeling  and  seeing  nothing 
but  the  dream  that  inspires  and  disturbs 
him. — 

— If  this  is  to  be  an  enthusiast,  Mr.  Clark 
was  unworthy  of  the  name — no  person  could 
pass  a  day  or  an  hour  with  him  and  not  be 
convinced  of  this.  Such  a  man  would  never 
have  placed  as  a  motto  to  one  of  his  works 
the  aphorism  of  Young. — 

Reason  pursu'd  is  faith :  and  unpursu'd 
Where  proof  invites,  'tis  reason  then  no  more. 

Or  have  given  to  a  preacher  such  advice  as 
this: 

And  if  in  public  you  would  useful  be, 
Make  use  of  all  you  hear,  and  all  you  see. 
Observe  men's  tempers,  weaknesses,  complaints  ■ 
You  may  improve  by  sinners  and  by  saints. 
To  learn  from  fools  and  idiots  condescend ; 
And  on  your  brethren's  labours  oft  attend. 
What  you  in  them  approve  e'er  make  your  own, 
Still  imitate  the  best,  but  mimic  none. 
Let  every  science  your  attention  prove ; 
And  to  converse  with  humble  Christians  love. 
— Then  study  nature,  nature  best  will  please, 
What  comes  from  nature  always  flows  with  ease. 
— Sound  authors  too  with  profit  may  be  read : 
But  still  the  Scriptures  are  the  fountain-head. 
Yet  ever  search  them  with  unbiass'd  mind, 
Take  them,  not  as  you  wish,  but  as  you  find; 
Nor  seek  to  bend,  and  thus  profanely  choose 
What  only  suits  your  predetermined  views; 
Or  act  the  part  of  that  prepost'rous  fool 
Who  rashly  dyed  his  pattern  to  his  wool.* 

Is  the  following  too,  the  language  of  a 
wrong-headed  enthusiast  ?  or  even  of  a  man 
who  has  more  zeal  than  knowledge  1 

— Fickle  professors  you  will  also  find, 
Who  change  about  with  every  turn  of  wind ; 
From  place  to  place,  from  sect  to  sect  they  stray, 
As  fancy,  or  as  interest  leads  the  way : 
The  last  with  them  is  right,  all  else  condemn'd. 
All  truth's  within  their  present  party  hemm'd: 
Bigots  to  any  sect  that  suits  their  will, 
And  change  they  ne'er  so  oft  are  bigots  still. 

—With  real  Christians  too  you've  much  to  bear, 
Those  are  not  always  wise,  who  are  sincere : 
Their  tempers,  manners,  likings  often  clash, 
Some  too  remiss  you'll  find,  and  some  too  rash. 

*  Alluding  to  the  folly  of  a  man,  who  being  employed 
to  dye  a  furnace  of  wool  to  the  colour  of  a  pattern,  not 
being  able  to  bring  the  wool  to  the  colour  of  his  pat- 
tern, in  order  to  make  them  match,  put  the  pattern 
into  the  furnace  with  the  wool. 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


143 


And  when  a  conscientious  man  goes  wrong, 

He's  hard  to  turn — his  prejudice  is  strong. 

Much  wisdom,  therefore,  you,  my  friend,  will  need, 

To  judge  between  the  motive  and  the  deed: 

To  show  a  just  severity  to  sin, 

And  yet  with  tender  love  th'  offender  win. 

— Of  love  unfeign'd  to  all  the  pattern  give. 

And  teach  with  meekness,  and  with  meekness  live. 

Those  doctrines  preach  that  prove  your  Maker  just, 
And  bring  the  haughty  sinner  to  the  dust. 

Set  forth  th'  experience  of  the  christian  man, 
And  urge  obedience  on  the  gospel  plan. 
Of  "  legal  preacher,"  never  fear  the  cry, 
Or  ought,  to  please  a  sickly  taste,  deny. 
The  pious  hearer  will  your  plan  approve, 
And  edify  by  all  your  work  of  love. 

But  cav'Iing  coxcombs  you  can  ne'er  content, 
Though  pure  your  doctrine,  and  your  zeal  well  spent: 
Such  pow'r  to  mortal  man  was  never  giv'n  ; 
Nor  could  an  angel,  though  sent  down  from  heaven. 

It  surely  ill  accords  to  deal  in  strife 

While  you  are  dealing  forth  the  bread  of  life. 

Some  make  the  pulpit  like  the  wrangling  bar; 
The  vehicle  of  peace,  a  seat  of  war: 
But  scolding  in  a  sermon,  with  hard  names, 
No  good  will  cherish  ;  but  it  oft  inflames. 
Then  you,  O  man  of  God,  let  these  alone; 
By  setting  up  the  truth,  pull  error  down  : 
Like  arms  of  a  true  balance,  one  must  drop 
Just  in  proportion  as  the  other's  up. 

— But  what  makes  christian  discipline  so  rare  ? 

Our  christian  churches  are  not  what  they  were. 

In  former  days,  the  shepherds  led  their  sheep;  [keep: 

Taught  them  what  paths  to  shun— what  paths  to 

To  go  before  their  flock  was  then  their  pride  ; 

But  now,  too  oft,  the  sheep  their  shepherds  guide. 

Church  management  is  rated  too  by  pay. 

And  pride  and  passion  love  to  bear  the  sway : 

A  spirit  of  democracy  prevails, 

And  thus  authority  and  order  fails. 

— As  all  the  world  acknowledge  the  same  sun, 

In  former  days  all  churches  were  but  one: 

A  general  cause  they  all  combin'd  to  make; 

If  one  dismiss'd,  the  rest  refused  to  take. 

To  gain  most  members  now  each  party  strives, 

And  by  the  loss  of  other  churches  thrives. 

To  excommunicate  no  way  alarms, 

Some  other  church  receives  with  open  arms. 

But  what  accession  does  religion  gain 

By  these  divisions  and  distinctions  vain  ? 

Has  Christ  in  his  true  church  one  member  more? 

Or  is  the  man  more  holy  than  before  ? 

Does  it  not  oft'ner  minister  to  strife. 

And  draw  th'  attention  from  the  christian  life?  

— But  if  by  enthusiasm  is  intended  the  ap- 
plication to  divine  things — of  that  energy, 
that  fervour  of  mind,  which,  it  is  supposed 
always  attends  genius,  and  is  essential  to 
distinction  in  the  arts  and  sciences :  if,  as  a 
term  of  reproach,  it  is  to  decry  a  man  who 
gives  religion  the  most  decided  preference  to 
every  rival  claim ;  who  feels  such  a  powerful 
devotedness  to  it,  that  difficulties  rather  in- 
crease than  diminish  his  attachment ;  who  is 
so  alive  to  its  excellency  that  he  complains 
more  of  his  defects  than  of  his  proficiencies ; 
who  is  so  united  to  its  welfare,  that  he  sym- 
pathizes in  all  its  varieties,  and  rejoices  or 
weeps  with  it — who  is  so  governed  by  it,  as 
to  make  it  the  centre  of  attraction,  the  end  to 
which  he  renders  every  thing  subordinate 
and  subservient ;  I  would  say — How  is  it  that 
a  term  generally  used  with  approbation, 
should  become  in  a  particular  case  ignomini- 
ous'! Why  should  warmth  be  allowed  and 
admired  in  every  other  subject,  and  condemn- 


ed in  that  which  beyond  all  comparison  de- 
serves and  justifies  it?  Why  should  it  not 
only  excuse  but  extol  the  painter  and  the 
poet,  and  degrade  the  Christian,  whose  objects 
and  pursuits  are  as  superior  to  those  of  all 
other  men,  as  the  soul  is  more  valuable  than 
the  body,  and  the  heaven  is  higher  than  the 
earth?  I  would  inquire — Whether  it  is  pos- 
sible to  consider  religion  as  important  at  all, 
without  regarding  it  as  all-important  '!  Whe- 
ther we  can  have  fairly  weighed  eternal  things 
against  temporal,  unless  we  see  that  there  is 
no  proportion  between  them  ?  Whether  we 
are  required  in  the  Scripture  to  attach  our- 
selves to  God  a  little,  or  to  "  love  him  with 
all  our  heart,  with  all  our  mind,  and  with  all 
our  strength?"  Whether  we  are  to  obey  him 
partially  and  formally,  while  the  heart  is  far 
from  him;  or  we  are  to  be  fervent  in  spirit 
while  serving  him  ?  Whether  that  moderation 
which  some  so  highly  applaud,  as  adjusting 
precisely  the  medium  between  being  too  little 
religious,  and  righteous  over  much,  and  which 
attempts  to  reconcile  and  to  satisfy  the  due 
claims  of  the  world  and  of  conscience,  is  not 
the  very  thing  the  word  of  God  brands  as 
most  incompatible  with  our  Christian  profes- 
sion ?  "  So  then,  because  thou  art  hike  warm, 
and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spue  thee  out 
of  my  mouth."  In  the  latter  sense  of  the  word, 
Paul  was  an  enthusiast.  He  felt  such  a  com- 
manding interest  in  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
deemer, as  gave  an  unity  to  his  active  and 
diversified  life,  and  produced  that  excellency 
in  his  Christian  profession  for  which  he  is 
commended  by  many,  who  yet  ridicule  every 
practical  approach  to  it  in  others.  In  this 
sense  too,  Mr.  Clark  deserves  the  honourable 
reproach.  But  justice  requires  that  we  make 
one  concession.  It  regards  some  of  Mr. 
Clark's  thoughts  and  expressions,  which,  in 
appearance,  at  least,  and  especially  when 
presented  to  those  that  knew  not  the  man, 
are  exceptionable.  There  is,  perhaps,  nothing 
in  the  narrative  that  he  could  not  have  ex- 
plained rationally  and  satisfactorily,  had  op- 
portunity been  given  him :  but  as  they  now 
stand,  there  are  several  things  that  deserve 
notice,  and  I  shall  speak  freely. 

With  regard  to  the  remarkable  circum- 
stance mentioned  in  a  preceding  page,  and  by 
which  he  was  encouraged  to  go  on  at  a 
moment  when  he  determined  to  renounce 
preaching,  I  shall  hardly  hazard  an  opinion. 
I  leave  it  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader,  and 
conclude  that  it  will  be  viewed  variously.  It 
may  be  proper  however  to  remark,  that  I  was 
unwilling  to  admit  the  marvellous  part  of  the 
event,  till  I  had  fully  examined  the  case; 
fearing  that  some  crude  and  ill-informed  re- 
ligionists are  occasionally  tempted  to  trench 
slightly  on  the  demands  of  honesty  and  truth, 
to  carry  points  for  the  glory  of  God  !  But  in 
this  instance,  every  character  stood  fair ;  and 
I  am  fully  persuaded  from  what  has  come 


144 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


under  my  investigation,  that  there  was  no 
collusion,  and  that  there  could  have  been  none. 
The  fact  is  as  well  authenticated,  as  the  over- 
ruled result  of  it  was  happy  and  useful. 

Mr.  Clark,  in  a  preceding'  page,  speaks  of  his 
going  to  preach  at  some  place ;  and  tells  us 
that  "  He  ventured  to  trust  entirely  on  the 
promised  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and 
without  any  previous  study  or  arrangement 
of  the  subject,  preached  from  Mark  xvi.  16." 
And  adds,  "  This  I  was  enabled  to  do  with  so 
much  ease  and  comfort  to  myself,  and  satis- 
faction to  the  audience,  that  thenceforward  I 
never  made  use  of  any  notes ;  but  was  ena- 
bled to  cast  myself  entirely  on  the  divine 
goodness."    Here  we  presume  is  an  allusion 
to  the  promise  given  by  our  Saviour  to  his 
disciples,  and  which  has  frequently  been  mis- 
taken and  abused : — "  When  they  deliver  you 
up,  take  no  thought  how  or  what  ye  shall 
speak ;  for  it  shall  be  given  you  in  that  same 
hour  what  ye  shall  speak.    For  it  is  not  ye 
that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  your  Father 
which  speaketh  in  you."    Here  it  may  be 
proper  to  observe :  first,  that  the  text  has  no 
reference  to  preaching  at  all ;  as  appears  from 
the  words  preceding : — "  But  beware  of 
men:  for  they  will  deliver  you  up  to  the 
councils,  and  they  will  scourge  you  in  their 
synagogues.   And  ye  shall  be  brought  before 
governors  and  kings  for  my  sake,  for  a  testi- 
mony against  them  and  the  Gentiles."  Se- 
condly, if  it  had  such  a  reference  originally, 
the  justness  of  the  application  in  the  present 
instance  would  be  questioned.  Modern  minis- 
ters are  not  apostles.    The  miraculous  and 
ordinary  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are 
very  distinguishable.    There  is  nothing  that 
as  preachers  we  have  to  be  inspired  with. 
We  want  ability  to  communicate  what  is  al- 
ready revealed,  and  to  impress  it  upon  the 
hearts  of  our  hearers :  and  God  forbid  that  we 
should  ever  think  mere  study,  or  reasoning, 
or  eloquence  can  succeed  in  securing  the 
objects  of  the  Christian  ministry  without 
"the  ministration  of  the  Spirit."  But  if  "the 
preacher  be  wise,"  as  Solomon  remarks,  "  he 
will  find  out  acceptable  words,  as  well  as 
words  of  truth :"  he  will  see  that  activity  and 
dependence,  instead  of  being  incompatible, 
require  each  other;  and  that  instrumentality, 
so  far  from  excluding  agency,  supposes  it.  In 
this  case,  the  advice  of  Paul  to  Timothy  is 
worthy  of  our  regard.  Timothy  was  ordained 
"according  to  the  prophecies  which  went  be- 
fore on  him,"  and  possessed  extraordinary 
qualifications  and  assistance — yet  says  his 
zealous,  but  judicious  admonisher,  "  Give  at- 
tendance to  reading,  to  exhortation,  to  doc- 
trine." "  Neglect  not  the  gift  that  is  in  thee." 
"Meditate  upon  these  things;  give  thyself 
wholly  to  them,  that  thy  profiting  may  ap- 
pear to  all ;"  or  as  it  is  in  the  margin,  in  "  all 
things." 

Knowing  Mr.  Clark's  views,  I  am  certain 


he  did  not  intend  by  the  expression  he  used, 
all  the  meaning  some  will  attach  to  it:  nor 
would  he  plead  for  any  thing  like  inspiration 
according  to  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
word.    But  here  is  a  mad  enthusiast : — here 
is  a  young  unfurnished  preacher,  who  takes 
up  the  memoir,  and  justifies  his  ignorance, 
his  incapacity  for  thought,  his  idleness,  his 
love  of  gossipping  by  an  expectation  of  divine 
and  immediate  assistance.  I  think  Mr.  Clark, 
as  far  as  he  could  have  acted  otherwise, 
erred :  but  before  we  exculpate  another  as  far 
as  we  justify  him,  let  the  imitator  be  as  ob- 
viously called  to  preach,  let  him  be  as  much 
and  as  unavoidably  engaged,  let  him  possess 
the  same  education  and  talents,  the  same 
fancy  and  fluency ;  let  him  also  be  equally 
devoted  to  general  improvement.    For  Mr. 
Clark — and  it  is  but  just  to  observe  it,  after 
mentioning  that  he  preached  habitually  with- 
out writing  or  premeditating  his  sermons, 
adds,  "  I  considered,  however,  that  this  by  no 
means  excused  me  from  studying,  in  a  gene- 
ral way,  God's  holy  word,  and  wonderful 
works ;  but  rather  enforced  the  necessity  of 
it  so  much  the  more,  that  I  might  lay  up  a 
stock  of  things,  new  and  old,  ready,  when 
called,  to  bring  forth  to  the  public.    My  bu- 
siness also  being  with  persons  of  different 
descriptions,  especially  the  working  poor, 
gave  me  an  opportunity  of  knowing  the  real 
manners  of  men,'  and  seeing  more  into  the 
depravity  of  human  nature.    My  philosophi- 
cal researches  also,  to  which  I  was  exceed- 
ingly attached,  served  to  enlarge  my  ideas  of 
things  as  well  as  of  men."    I  would  also  ob- 
serve, that  Mr.  Clark,  unlike  too  many  of  this 
class,  was  never  heard  to  censure  those  who 
preached  in  a  way  different  from  his  own. 
He  exceedingly  enjoyed  the  labours  of  his 
brethren,  and  not  only  commended  their  ser- 
vices, but  the  preparations  for  them.  "  In  the 
following  lines,"  says  he  in  the  preface  to  his 
Novitius,  "the  reader  may  trace  somewhat 
of  the  method  wliich  the  author  himself  has 
been  led  to  adopt ;  and  which  he  hopes  it  has 
pleased  God  to  own,  to  the  conversion  and 
edification  of  many. — But  he  would  be  far 
from  limiting  his  brethren  in  the  ministry  to 
any  particular  method :  let  every  one  consult 
his  proper  gift,  and  employ  it  in  the  best 
manner  he  is  able — but  all  to  the  use  of  edi- 
fying.   Some  have  a  brilliant  imagination, 
some  a  solid  judgment,  some  a  fluent  utter- 
ance, and  some  a  strong  memory.    I  censure 
none  but  those  who  bury  their  talent,  and 
those  who  misemploy  it ;  those  who  seek  to 
please  themselves;  and  those  who  seek  to 
please  men."  In  the  same  liberal  strain,  are 
the  following  lines  from  the  work  itself : 

—Next  for  your  study  might  I  drop  a  hint  ? 
With  no  dull  rules  would  \  your  genius  stint. 
Some  preachers  arc  with  fertile  fancies  bless'd, 
To  rove  at  larce,  o'er  nature,  suits  them  best. 
From  every  object  they  can  catch  a  theme, 
And  the  whole  universe  their  study  deein ! 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


145 


Others  there  are  more  moderate  limits  keep, 

Their  subjects  fewer,  but  they  dive  more  deep. 

In  either  case  retirement  may  befriend 

To  methodize  the  thought — the  language  mend. 

But  study  too  intense  brings  many  a  grief; 

It  dulls  the  spirits— makes  the  manners  stiff. 

Too  studious,  some  their  native  ardour  damp 

With  massy  volumes,  and  the  midnight  lamp : 

The  frame 's  enervated,  too  much  confin'd ; 

And  gloomy  vapours  overspread  the  mind. 

But  you,  Novitius,  take  the  middle  course, 

Nor  be  remiss,  nor  yet  your  genius  force  : 

On  no  one  study  too  intensely  fix, 

But  evercise  and  air  discreetly  mix 

Should  you  prefer  to  preach  extempore, 

You  may  be  less  correct,  but  much  more  free. 

This  was  the  way  our  good  forefathers  taught, 

Till,  learning  scarce,  illit'rate  men  were  sought : 

Now  learned  doctors  keep  the  custom  still, 

To  ease  their  sloth,  or  else  to  show  their  skill. 

— To  preach  by  notes  can  be  no  sin  indeed, 

Or  read  your  sermons  if  you  find  you  need  : 

But  wherefore  then  should  you  conceal  the  book, 

Or  look  on  it  as  if  you  did  not  look? 

—An  honest,  warm  effusion  from  the  heart, 

Must  sure  exceed  the  nicest  forms  of  art: 

— Ideas  will  spring  up  as  you  go  on, 

And  honest  zeal  for  many  faults  atone; 

Thoughts  new  enkindled  set  your  soul  on  fire, 

And  heavenly  eloquence  your  tongue  inspire. 

— But  though  your  doctrine  should  be  e'er  so  sound, 

Doctrine  unfelt  is  seldom  useful  found. 

Not  at  the  head  take  aim,  with  notions  dry, 

Nor  o'er  the  head  let  useless  bullets  fly 

Of  learned  lore  ;  but  level  at  the  heart 

Your  whole  artillery,  and  strike  that  part. 

And  from  your  heart,  Osend  them  burning  too, 

For  balls  red  hot  most  execution  do. 

If  in  the  pulpit  you  appear  unmoved, 

Your  sermon  does  small  good,  howe'er  approved. 

Yet  do  not  rant  enthusiastic  stuff, 

How  weak  no  matter,  so  'tis  loud  enough ! 

But  temper  zeal  with  wisdom  and  with  love, 

So  men  shall  profit,  and  your  God  approve. 

— Then  for  your  language,  be  it  chaste  and  pure, 

Above  contempt,  though  level  to  the  poor. 

Yet  not  in  phrases  quaint,  and  vulgar  speech 

Attempt  to  play  the  buffoon,  but  to  preach. 

Know  that  your  place  a  dignity  demands. 

For  in  God's  name  a  gospel  preacher  stands. 

— A  striking  simile  you'll  sometimes  find 

T'  illustrate  truth,  and  fix  it  on  the  mind : 

Or  with  an  anecdote  attention  move, 

Lest  dull  monotony  an  opiate  prove. 

— Nor  yet,  my  friend,  affect  the  orator 

In  pompous  diction,  sounding  metaphor. 

Disguise  not  truth,  prond  eloquence  to  nourish, 

As  school  boys  lose  Ihe  letter  in  the  flourish; 

Enticing  speech  may  loud  applauses  gain 

From  shallow  hearers, and  make  preachers  vain; 

A  feather  this  to  tickle  itching  ears ; 

But  'tis  warm  truth  must  melt  a  soul  to  tears : 

'Tis  this,  w  hen  aided  by  th'  Almighty  arm. 

Will  wonders  work,  and  miracles  perform. 

— Whate'er  your  subject  be,  let  heavenly  zeal 

And  love  to  souls  direct  your  method  still : 

Nor  let  strict  rules,  which  pedagogues  may  teach, 

Divert  you  from  the  end  for  which  you  preach. 

Method,  we  grant,  is  proper,  but  'tis  cold, 

If  not  attended  with  a  pathos  bold. 

In  nice  particulars  to  waste  your  time 

When  souls  are  perishing,  account  a  crime. 

Some  preachers  cut  the  bread  of  life  so  small, 

The  greater  part  does  through  the  basket  fall : 

All  their  divisions  subdivided  yet, 

'Twere  task  enough  the  numbers  to  repeat ; 

So  full  of  heads  that  nothing  else  there  seems — 

No  room  is  left  for  body,  life,  or  limbs. 

— Some,  day  and  night  upon  a  subject  pore, 

And  rack  invention  till  it  yields  no  more  ; 

To  show  how  much  they  can  bring  forth  at  will 

From  a  small  text,  and  thus  display  their  skill : 

Whate'er  the  text,  the  sermon  still  must  be 

A  little  body  of  divinity. 

These  in  the  study  quench  that  ardent  fire 

Which  in  the  pulpit  should  their  souls  inspire ; 

Exhausting  so  their  subjects  when  alone, 

That  when  they  bring  them  forth,  the  savour 's  gone. 

— Nor  less,  my  friend,  should  you  bethink  your  time, 

While  in  a  work  so  useful,  so  sublime. 

T  13 


Sweet  is  the  gospel,  and  it  well  beseems 

To  dwell  with  rapture  on  its  glorious  themes ; 

Yet  some  discourses  would  be  full  as  good 

If  they  were  more  compress'd  in  latitude: 

They  lose  in  substance  what  they  gain  in  length, 

As  thread  spun  out  too  fine  impairs  its  strength. 

— Some  are  more  garrulous  the  more  they're  lost, 

And  when  they've  least  to  say,  enlarge  the  most. 

I  hope  I  need  not  apologize  for  the  inser- 
tion of  these  extracts.  They  contain  import- 
ant hints,  many  of  which  are  expressed  in 
language  that  shows  a  considerable  talent  for 
poetry.  They  are,  therefore,  specimens  of  the 
kind  of  composition  in  which  the  author  de- 
lighted. They  also  deliver  his  sentiments 
with  regard  to  preaching ;  and  will  serve  to 
qualify  some  passages  in  the  memoir.  They 
fully  prove,  that  while  he  pleaded  for  ease 
and  fervour,  he  did  not  oppose  propriety  and 
decorum.  And  surely  it  ought  to  be  inquired, 
whether  many  of  his  strictures  are  not  just; 
and  whether  all  the  evils  to  be  dreaded  are 
found  on  one  side  of  the  question,  and  nothing 
is  to  be  apprehended  from  the  opposite  ex- 
treme 1  If  the  whisper  could  only  be  heard 
by  some — we  might  suggest — Whether  there 
is  not  an  over-doing,  as  well  as  an  under- 
doing 1  Whether  habitual  thought  is  not  com- 
monly preferable  to  the  appointment  of  parti- 
cular times  for  study  1  Whether  general 
meditation  is  not  more  advantageous  than 
textual  reflection,  which,  while  it  gives  a 
man  skill  in  dividing  and  explaining  words 
and  phrases,  adds  but  little  to  his  intellectual 
stores  ? 

A  man  who  is  always  attentive  and  observ- 
ing; who  is  well  versed  in  general  know- 
ledge; who  has  amassed  ideas  upon  every 
subject  on  which  he  is  called  to  teach ;  who 
has  rendered  himself  very  familiar  with  the 
language  of  Scripture;  and  who  speaks  out 
of  the  abundance  of  the  heart — such  a  man 
will  rarely  be  at  a  loss,  or  preach  amiss.  His 
thoughts  will  easily  find  their  proper  places, 
and  suitable  language  will  clothe  them,  if 
he  does  not  consume  that  enormous  quantity 
of  time  expended  by  some  in  their  sermonic 
preparations,  to  the  injury  of  their  health, 
and  the  neglect  of  social  duties.  In  all 
other  cases,  where  men  have  similar  qualifi- 
cations, we  are  not  afraid  of  every  thing 
they  deliver  on  the  spur  of  the  occasion,  or 
conclude  that  it  must  be  incoherent  and 
foolish. 

We  more  than  once  in  the  narrative  meet 
with  a  casual  presentation  of  passages  of 
Scripture,  and  a  seasonable  occurrence  of  ad- 
monitions or  promises  on  which  some  consi- 
derable stress  was  laid.  I  do  not  remember 
indeed  any  incongruous  application  of  this 
kind ;  and  Mr.  Clark  had  too  much  wisdom  to 
be  led  into  any  improprieties  by  such  a  sanc- 
tion— Yet  it  must  be  confessed,  the  practice 
is  perilous;  and  I  have  known  many  cases 
in  which  it  has  been  very  injuriously  in- 
dulged. The  text  read,  or  recollected  just 
at  the  time,  has  determined  the  person  as  to 


146 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


the  state  of  his  soul,  or  the  patli  of  duty :  it 
has  operated  to  the  removal  of  his  distress, 
or  the  solution  of  his  doubt.  But  though  all 
the  Scripture  is  true  in  itself,  many  parts  of 
it  may  be  erroneous  in  their  application  to 
the  present  case  of  any  individual.  The  suita- 
bleness of  the  part  occurring,  is  commonly 
supposed  to  prov  e  that  it  is  immediately  from 
God:  but  this  suitableness  is  the  question; 
and  the  man  who  decides  it,  is  the  party  in- 
terested, and  therefore  the  most  liable  to  mis- 
take. The  will  of  God  may  really  call  us 
off  from  a  pursuit,  when  by  this  means  the 
word  of  God  is  urging  us  on.  Jonah  probably 
was  encouraged  when  he  came  down  to  the 
sea  side,  to  rind  a  ship  just  ready  to  sail : 
when  a  man  is  in  a  wrong  course,  a  piece  of 
Scripture  unexpectedly  met  with,  may  keep 
him  much  in  the  same  way.  The  angel  of 
the  Lord  commissioned  Gideon  to  go  and  de- 
liver Israel  as  he  was  threshing  wheat:  a 
man  engaged  in  the  same  work  feels  an  in- 
clination to  go  forth  and  preach,  but  has  some 
little  doubt  as  to  his  sufficiency  and  success 
— when  lo !  these  words  came  to  his  mind, 
"  Arise,  for  the  Lord  is  with  thee  thou  mighty 
man  of  valour :"  and  his  doubts  are  scattered 
like  dust  before  the  wind.  A  pious  female 
meets  with  an  eligible  suitor,  but  has  some 
conflict  between  inclination  and  conviction, 
founded  on  religious  character :  but  she  is  re- 
solved to  yield,  by  opening  the  Bible,  and 
casting  her  eye  on  the  admonition,  "Arise 
therefore,  and  get  thee  down,  and  go  with 
the  men,  doubting  nothing :  for  I  have  sent 
them."*  A  person  thinks  of  engaging  in 
some  enterprise ;  and  it  may  be  his  duty  not 
only  to  undertake  it,  but  to  undertake  it  im- 
mediately :  but  he  is  determined  by  the  ad- 
dress of  our  Saviour  suddenly  starting  into 
his  mind,  though  not  originally  delivered  quite 
on  a  similar  occasion,  "  What  thou  doest,  do 
quickly."  I  have  read  of  a  good  old  man 
who  used  to  exhort  people  to  live  by  the  ten 
commandments,  and  not  by  impulses :  and  he 
used  to  tell  how  he  got  free  from  delusion 
himself.  When  he  was  a  lad,  he  was  poor 
and  pious,  and  thought  that  all  suggestions 
in  scripture  style  came  from  heaven.  Walk- 
ing in  the  field  in  want  of  fireing,  by  the  side 
of  a  neighbour's  hedge,  he  wished  for  some 
of  it  to  burn:  instantly  the  word  came — In 
all  this  Job  sinned  not,  and  in  faith  of  this, 
he  began  to  make  free  with  his  neighbour's 
wood.  But  happily  he  discovered  his  error ; 
tried  the  application  of  the  text  by  the  com- 
mand—  Thou  shall  not  steal,  or,  as  the  in- 
genious relater  remarks,  the  word  of  God 
might  have  led  him  out  of  the  church  into 
the  jail. 

After  all,  this  is  only  specifying  the  danger 

*  Let  no  one  object  Uiat  the  passage  is  not  quite  the 
thing :  the  difference  between  the  lingular  and  plural 
number;  between  him  and  them,  is  nothing  in  these 
sublime  cases :  for  the  greater  includes  the  less:  and 
trifles  cannot  be  seen  when  we  soar. 


on  one  side,  though  it  is  by  far  the  most  com- 
mon side.  But  the  word  of  God  has  awful 
passages ;  and  there  are  persons  of  a  melan- 
choly temperament,  or  labouring  under  de- 
jection from  temporary  causes.  Such  per- 
sons, by  a  principle  of  association,  are  always 
prone  to  attract  towards  themselves  every 
thing  of  a  dreadful  nature.  What  wonder, 
therefore,  when  a  threatening  of  Scripture 
strikes  the  mind  in  such  a  case,  if  the  man 
viewing  it  as  a  divine  intimation,  is  plunged 
into  distraction  or  despair.  We  cannot  love 
the  word  of  God  too  much,  nor  consult  it  too 
often.  But  we  are  to  "  search  the  Scrip- 
ture ;"  and  it  is  "  to  dwell  in  us  richly  in 
all  wisdom."  We  are  not  to  turn  it  into  a 
kind  of  lottery,  or  to  use  it  as  a  spell,  or  a 
charm ;  but  to  "  understand  what  we  read." 
We  are  not  to  take  it  separately,  but  con- 
nectedly :  and  if  we  would  be  directed  by  it 
as  to  our  duty,  or  satisfied  by  it  as  to  our 
state,  we  are  to  peruse  its  contents  with  dili- 
gence, humility,  and  prayer  ;  to  observe  the 
passages  that  refer  to  persons  of  our  charac- 
ter or  condition  ;  that  describe  the  temptations 
to  which  we  are  exposed,  or  the  trials  under 
which  we  labour.  In  this  way  we  shall  find 
that  the  word  of  God  is  not  only  designed, 
but  calculated  for  general  and  perpetual  use, 
and  has  such  an  infinite  affluence  in  it  as  to 
subserve  "  all  things  that  pertaineth  to  life 
and  godliness."  Whether  we  are  rulers  or 
subjects,  masters  or  servants,  parents  or 
children,  husbands  or  wives  :  whether  we  are 
young  or  old,  rich  or  poor,  it  lends  us  the 
most  appropriate  assistance ;  and  is  "  a  lamp 
unto  our  feet,  and  a  light  unto  our  path." 

I  most  cordially  subscribe  to  the  doctrine 
of  divine  influence,  not  in  the  lax  sense  in 
which  it  is  admitted  by  all  that  make  any 
pretensions  to  religion;  but  in  the  stricter 
meaning  of  the  word.  I  believe  that  all 
good  is  derived  from,  and  perpetuated  by,  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Yet  this  doctrine 
is  frequently  expressed  by  preachers  and 
writers  in  a  way  that  is  not  perfectly  just. 
Every  thing  is  referred  not  efficiently,  but 
immediately  to  God.  We  are  wrought  upon, 
not  employed.  We  are  passively  blessed, 
not  actuated  to  exertion.  The  means  which 
idolatrously  keep  some  from  the  God  of  all 
grace,  are  too  much  discarded  by  others. 
The  motive  in  many  cases  we  are  aware 
cannot  be  too  much  praised  ;  as  it  is  designed 
to  secure  the  glory  of  God.  But  if  it  needs 
not  to  be  purified,  it  requires  to  be  enlight- 
ened. It  should  be  remembered,  that  God 
does  not  operate  less  really,  because  he  ope- 
rates instrumentally.  The  means  are  his 
own,  as  well  as  the  success  of  them.  And 
the  production  of  an  effect  by  a  series  of 
means,  deriving  their  operation  and  their 
beinff  from  God,  instead  of  detracting  from 
his  glory,  displays  it,  much  more  than  a  sud- 
den result  without  any  intervention.  The 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


147 


one  is  a  volition  of  God — the  other  an  action. 
The  one  proves  his  omnipotence — the  other 
shows  also  his  wisdom  and  his  condescension. 
The  one  astonishes — the  other  instructs. 
The  one  requires  nothing — the  other  calls 
for  prayer  and  obedience. — We  are  not 
wrought  upon  in  religion  as  masons'  work 
on  stone,  or  as  carpenters'  on  wood  ;  we  are 
rational  and  moral  subjects :  God  works  by 
setting  us  to  work ;  he  "  works  in  us  to  will 
and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure."  He  does 
not  repent,  but  he  enables  us  to  repent :  he 
does  not  believe,  but  he  enables  us  to  believe. 
He  not  only  works  in  us,  but  even  by  us. 
He  does  not  give  me  wisdom,  without  making 
me  wise:  he  informs  me;  and  while  he  is 
the  teacher,  I  am  the  learner.  I  am  not 
carried  forward  like  a  man  asleep  in  a  ship  : 
he  leads  me,  he  aids  me :  I  cannot  go  a  step 
without  him,  but  /  go  with  him.  In  doing 
good,  I  am  not  moved  by  mechanism,  but 
motive.  Renewing  grace  does  not  destroy 
the  order,  the  subordination,  the  use  of  our 
spiritual  powers,  but  restores  them,  establishes 
them,  sanctifies  them. 

There  are  some  who  seem  to  view  the 
means  of  grace  as  mere  tests  of  obedience 
to  the  will  of  God  ;  as  mere  arbitrary  expe- 
dients, which  however  used,  leave  it  perfectly 
uncertain  whether  any  advantage  can  be 
derived  from  them.  We  are  to  regard  them 
as  a  way  in  which  we  are  to  stand,  in  case 
God  should  go  by  and  leave  a  blessing ;  not 
as  a  road  leading  to  an  eud  which  we  cer- 
tainly and  naturally  approach,  if  we  walk  on 
in  it.  The  labours  of  the  husbandman  are 
vain  without  the  divine  blessing :  but  there 
is  a  vast  difference  between  his  sowing  flints, 
and  his  sowing  corn :  a  crop,  by  the  influence 
of  Heaven,  not  only  attends  the  seed,  but 
grows  out  of  it :  the  means  of  grace  have  a 
passive  suitableness  in  them ;  they  are  adapted 
to  do  us  good  by  their  very  nature  ;  and  the 
blessing  is  made  to  flow  from  the  use  of  them, 
as  well  as  to  be  obtained  in  it.  They  are 
not  spoken  of  in  Scripture  as  experiments  ; 
nor  should  we  employ  them  just  to  try,  whe- 
ther it  be  possible  to  gain  any  benefit :  the 
promise  is  more  encouraging — "  Blessed  is 
the  man  that  heareth  me,  watching  daily  at 
my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of  my  doors." 
"  Then  shall  we  know  if  we  follow  on  to  know 
the  Lord."  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  to 
you.  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find.  Knock,  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  For  every  one 
that  asketh,  receiveth  ;  and  he  that  seeketh, 
findeth  ;  and  to  him  that  knocketh  it  shall 
be  opened." 

We  may  here  also  notice  the  doctrine  of  i 
divine  providence.  We  believe  in  its  uni-  : 
versality  and  minuteness.  With  men  an  at-  1 
tention  to  little  things  prevents  an  attention  i 
to  great  things;  and  an  attention  to  great  i 
things  prevents  an  attention  to  little  things.  < 
But  it  is  otherwise  with  God.    The  heaven  i 


of  heavens  cannot  contain  him ;  but  lie  conde- 
•  scends  to  dwell  with  man  upon  the  earth. 
He  wings  an  angel,  and  he  teaches  the  spider 
to  weave  his  web :  nor  can  it  be  unworthy 
i  of  him  to  sustain  what  was  not  beneath  him 
;  to  create.    There  is  dignity  as  well  as  truth 
:  in  the  language  of  our  Saviour;  "  a  sparrow 
falleth   not  to  the   ground  without  your 
Heavenly  Father ;  yea,  the  very  hairs  of 
your  head  are  all  numbered."    Yet  I  do  not 
think  we  are  justified  in  accustoming  our- 
selves to  such  phrases  as  these,  "  The  Lord 
broke  my  leg;"  "The  Lord  set  my  house 
on  fire  ;"  "  The  Lord  blighted  my  apples." 

Nor  are  we  friendly  to  many  of  those  ex- 
pressions which  seem  to  intimate,  that  the 
Lord  often  steps  out  of  his  ordinary  course  to 
indulge  us.  It  savours  of  self-importance, 
while  the  acknowledgment  may  really  issue 
from  gratitude.  Our  speech  should  always 
be  with  grace  ;  but  it  should  be  seasoned  only 
with  salt.  The  frequent  use  of  the  name 
of  God,  connected  with  things  by  no  means 
uncommon  or  peculiar,  but  which  have 
hereby  an  air  of  wonder  and  mystery  given 
them,  produces  in  religion  the  effect  of  the 
mock-heroic  in  poetry :  and  may  not  only 
diminish  veneration,  but  excite  ridicule. 
For  things  that  are  the  same  with  regard  to 
God,  are  not  so  with  regard  to  us. 

In  reference  to  any  event  in  life,  we  are 
more  than  authorized  to  say,  "If  the  Lord 
will :"  but  it  is  the  sentiment  that  renders 
the  diction  valuable :  and  as  the  mind  may 
feel  the  sentiment  when  the  lips  are  silent, 
so  the  tongue  may  utter  the  words,  when  the 
mind  feels  nothing :  yea,  the  individual  may 
even  render  the  language  more  than  insig- 
nificant :  it  may  become  "  as  the  body  with- 
out the  spirit,"  which  is  not  only  dead  but  dis- 
agreeable and  offensive.    I  have  heard  of  a 
preacher,  among  a  certain  class  of  Christians, 
who  were  formerly  much  more  renowned 
than  they  now  are  for  disturbing  the  audience 
by  their  frequent  and  noisy  assents  in  prayer. 
Conceiving  that  it  was  generally,  at  least,  an 
idle,  unmeaning  usage,  in  order  to  convince 
them,  he  said  as  he  was  going  on  in  his  de- 
votion, "  Lord,  take  me  immediately  to  hea- 
ven ;"  by  the  force  of  custom,  "  Amen"  was 
kindly  exclaimed  from  many  a  worthy  bro- 
ther and  sister,  that  would  have  been  shock- 
ed at  the  thought  of  wishing  him  dead.  And 
I  knew  a  clerk,  who  was  very  conscientious 
in  giving  out  any  intimation  from  the  desk, 
who  once  said,  "  There  will  be  no  preaching 
here  next  Thursday,  God  willing.'" — But  "  a 
preacher  should  be  sparing  of  his  smile ;" 
and  never  indulge  it  to  expose,  but  to  recti- 
fy.   I  wish  to  be  understood.    It  is  not  ha- 
bitual piety  we  oppose;  it  is  not  the  intro- 
duction of  it  into  all  our  concerns ;  for  whe- 
ther we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do, 
we  are  to  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  But 
it  may  be  proper  to  suggest  to  some,  that  aa 


148 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


there  is  "  a  form  of  godliness,"  so  is  there  "  a 
form  of  knowledge,"  and  "  a  form  of  words ;" 
that  genuine  religion  deals  more  in  things 
than  in  terms;  that  it  induces  us  to  be  more 
concerned  for  the  reality  than  the  appearance 
of  devotion;  that  though  we  cannot  be  right- 
eous over-much  as  to  principle  and  disposi- 
tion, we  may  as  to  ostentatious  display,  un- 
timely exertions,  and  irregular  actings  out 
of  our  place  and  beyond  our  power.  A  Chris- 
tian, like  the  sun,  is  to  do  good,  not  by  noise, 
but  by  shining;  he  is  to  operate  principally 
not  by  his  tongue,  but  by  his  life ;  by  the 
consistency,  the  holiness,  and  the  charms  of 
his  example.  "  For  so  is  the  will  of  God, 
that  with  well  doing  ye  may  put  to  silence 
the  ignorance  of  foolish  men."  "  Let  your 
light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see 
your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven." 

A  man  should  study  the  dispensations  of 
Providence.  "  Whoever  is  wise,  and  will  ob- 
serve these  things,  even  they  shall  under- 
stand the  lovingkindness  of  the  Lord."  But 
of  the  events  befalling  us,  two  views  may  be 
taken. — First.    These  events  may  be  very 
distinguishing ;  and  our  privileges  peculiarly 
great.    In  this  case,  though  they  may  be  no- 
ticed by  others,  they  can  hardly  be  so  well 
announced  by  ourselves.    Humility  seems  to 
require  the  concealment,  rather  than  the  expo- 
sure.  Paul  said,  if  I  must  needs  glory,  I  will 
glory  in  things  that  concern  my  infirmities. 
He  had  visions  and  revelations  of  the  Lord; 
and  once  he  was  caught  up  into  the  third 
heaven,  and  heard  unspeakable  words.  After 
such  a  distinction,  some  would  not  have  been 
able  to  contain  themselves  for  a  week  or  a 
day.    They  would  have  gone  forth  and  have 
said  to  every  one  they  met;  "  Where  do  you 
think  I  have  been"!" — Why  "in  the  third 
heaven."    "  And  what  do  you  think  I  have 
heard?" — Why  "unspeakable  words,  which 
it  is  not  lawful  for  a  man  to  utter."  But 
Paul  does  not  divulge  the  honour  for  more 
than  fourteen  years — and  then  he  was  urged 
by  slander ;  and  mentions  it,  not  in  his  own 
praise,  but  in  his  own  vindication,  and  to 
magnify  his  office  in  the  eyes  of  those  that 
unrighteously  degraded  him. — While  he  is 
candid  enough  to  acknowledge  at  the  same 
time,  that  it  had  nearly  proved  too  much  for 
him ;  and  that  he  would  have  been  exalted 
above  measure,  but  for  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  a 
messenger  of  Satan  to  buffet  him. — Secondly. 
We  will  suppose  these  events  nothing  more 
than  common  occurrences.    In  this  case, 
though  they  may  be  worthy  of  attention  and 
review  to  the  individual  himself,  they  can 
hardly  be  interesting  or  useful  to  others. 
Thus,  while  in  the  one  case  publication  may 
be  improper,  in  the  other  it  becomes  need- 
less. As  things  diminish  by  distance,  so  they 
are  enlarged  by  nearness.    Here  persons  are 
liable  to  err ;  and  good  men  indulge  in  self- 


consequence  without  knowing  it.  A  work 
that  appears  the  offspring  of  pride,  only  re- 
sults from  contracted  views;  from  peculiar 
associations  and  habits ;  from  a  real  wish  to 
glorify  God.  If  this  be  not  taken  into  the 
account  when  writings  of  a  certain  kind  are 
perused,  we  may  censure  the  motive,  as 
much  as  we  condemn  the  execution.  I  would 
observe  also,  that  in  addition  to  these  circum- 
stances, we  should  endeavour  to  comprehend 
their  language.  It  is  to  be  lamented  that 
many  of  our  authors  should  use  a  lexicon  pe- 
culiar to  themselves;  but  since  this  is  the 
case,  to  judge  them  we  must  examine  it: 
and  yet  many  have  it  not  at  hand.  When 
Mr.  Clark  says  "  Such  a  day  I  had  a  call  to 
London ;"  a  stranger  to  his  dialect  may  con- 
clude that  he  was  referring  to  some  kind  of 
voice,  or  impulse,  or  be  puzzled  to  understand 
his  meaning,  when  all  that  he  intended  was, 
that  circumstances  rendered  it  his  duty. 

And  here,  before  I  conclude,  I  would  remark 
the  propriety  of  a  decisive  and  intelligible  mode 
of  expression  in  religious  concerns.  It  is  not 
enough  for  a  man  to  render  it  possible  to  under- 
stand his  language ;  he  should  render  it  easy  : 
he  should  endeavour  to  render  it  obvious,  not 
only  to  the  initiated,  but  to  those  that  are 
without.  He  knows  not  who  may  hear  him, 
or  read  him  beyond  his  own  circle.  Some 
good  men  are  not  aware  of  the  injury  they 
have  done  their  cause  by  the  use  of  certain 
terms  and  phrases.  Some  of  these  being 
early  met  with  in  a  work,  have  led  the  reader 
to  prejudge  and  throw  down  the  book,  which 
he  might  otherwise  have  been  induced  to 
read  to  advantage.  It  is  useless  for  the  au- 
thor to  say  he  was  misunderstood ;  and  that 
the  reader  appears  to  have  been  full  of  preju- 
dice. Who  would  use  language  so  dark  or 
so  dangerous,  that  numbers  have  not  views 
to  comprehend  or  to  qualify  1  A  man  who 
has  eyes  can  step  over  a  stone,  but  who 
would  throw  stumblingblocks  in  the  way  of 
the  blind  ? — The  figurative  language  of  Scrip- 
ture has  often  been  rendered  very  exception- 
able. Such  words  as  resurrection,  creation, 
regeneration,  or  the  new  birth,  are  finely  ap- 
plied by  the  sacred  writers  to  the  subject 
of  religion:  but  instead  of  taking  in  the  sim- 
ple reference  of  the  passage,  the  metaphor 
has  been  pushed  to  excess,  and  the  mis- 
taken declaimer  has  supposed  that  whatever 
is  true  of  the  image,  is  true  of  the  doctrine. 
Hence,  such  expressions  have  been  used  as 
would  lead  many  to  imagine,  that  in  our 
renovation  we  are  perfectly  passive ;  hence, 
some  of  their  readers  seem  to  feel  a  kind  of 
diabolical  acquiescence  in  their  present  con- 
dition, as  if  their  remaining  in  it  was  their 
misfortune,  and  not  their  crime.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  such  declarations  as  these — 
"  Whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin."  "  They 
that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please  God." 
"  The  prayer  of  the  wicked  is  an  abomina- 


MEMOIRS  OF 

tion."  These,  separate  from  the  positions 
and  references  which  would  explain  and  vin- 
dicate them,  are  often  delivered  so  abstract- 
edly, as  to  become  erroneous  and  hurtful : 
men  who  are  not  conscious  of  religion,  con- 
cluding- that  all  their  actions  are  the  same ; 
and  that  it  matters  not  whether  they  go  to 
the  house  of  God,  or  remain  at  home ;  em- 
ploy the  Sabbath  in  reading  the  Scripture, 
or  the  news  of  the  week. — "  This  is  not  our 
intention."  Why  then  incur  the  danger? 
Why  occasion  an  abuse  which  you  could  so 
easily  escape'! 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  how  much  of  the 
impression  that  a  very  celebrated  review 
aimed  some  time  ago  to  make  against  me- 
thodism,  was  derived  from  this  kind  of  mate- 
rials. Though  we  have  no  reason  to  believe 
that  the  writers  in  question  would  be  friendly 
to  evangelical  truth,  however  soberly  and  ju- 
diciously explained;  yet  the  weapons  they 
wielded  were  certainly  furnished  not  so  much 
by  the  doctrine  of  the  two  magazines,  as  the 
quaint  phrases,  the  cant  terms,  the  low  con- 
ceits, the  mystical  jargon,  the  spiritual  pro- 
digies, the  unqualified  and  abrupt  decisions 
with  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  they  have 
too  much  abounded.  And  surely  nothing  of 
this  was  necessary  in  these  publications.  As 
far  as  the  extracts  from  them  contained  real 
and  valuable  truth,  neither  the  statement,  nor 
the  effect,  would  have  been  injured  by  a  dif- 
ferent and  unexceptionable  representation. — 
There  are  authors  firmly  attached  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel,  and  who  have  written  in 
the  illustration  and  defence  of  them,  that  we 
should  not  fear  trusting  in  the  hands  of  any 
class  of  readers.  We  do  not  mean  to  intimate 
that  they  would  find  nothing  but  what  they 
approved ;  but  the  subject,  and  not  the  author 
would  offend :  the  displeasure  would  be  "  the 
offence  of  the  cross;"  it  would  be  the  re- 
proach of  faith,  and  not  of  folly — of  the  former 
we  should  never  be  ashamed :  in  the  latter  we 
should  never  glory. 

The  reader  will  perceive  that  I  have  wan- 
dered a  little  in  some  of  these  remarks ;  and 
that  much  of  what  I  have  advanced  applies 
but  very  partially  and  indirectly  to  the  worthy 
author  and  subject  of  the  memoir  we  have  re- 
viewed. But  from  inferior  faults,  I  have  taken 
occasion  to  deliver  myself,  without  reserve 
upon  faults  of  the  same  species,  appearing  in 
their  more  enlarged  and  extreme  forms.  It  is 
possible,  it  is  probable,  that  by  the  use  of  this 
liberty  censure  will  be  incurred.  It  was  not 
courted.  It  is  not  dreaded.  The  editor  has 
followed  the  convictions  which  he  has  felt 
from  an  attentive  survey  of  a  certain  portion 
of  the  religious  world  for  some  years,  and  in 
circumstances  not  unfavourable  to  observa- 
tions. Under  infirmities  which  remind  him 
that  his  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  he  has  endea- 
voured to  write  in  the  fear  of  God.  He  pre- 
sumes that  none  wish  to  be  considered  as  in- 
13* 


JOHN  CLARK.  149 

fallible;  that  much  harm  has  been  done  by 
injudicious  defence  and  indiscriminate  ap- 
plause; that  useful  bodies  of  men  may  be 
rendered  more  useful ;  that  while  attached  to 
the  excellency  of  a  cause,  we  yet  should  be 
impartial  enough  to  see  what  is  erroneous,  and 
magnanimous  enough  to  concede  what  is  un- 
tenable. Love  need  not,  and  should  not  be 
blind.  I  admire  the  person  of  a  friend,  but 
surely  this  does  not  require  me  to  praise  a 
stain  his  face  has  accidentally  contracted : 
rather  let  me  endeavour  gently  to  wipe  it  off, 
and  not  suffer  strangers  to  identify  it  with  the 
figure. 

As  additional  specimens  of  Mr.  Clark's 
manner  of  writing,  and  for  the  sake  of  the 
useful  hints  they  contain,  I  here  insert  a 
hymn — a  versification  of  a  psalm,  which, 
though  so  exquisitely  beautiful,  Dr.  Watts 
has  omitted  to  notice — and  an  address  to 
parents  and  tutors.  The  editor  presumes  the 
propriety  of  his  uniting  to  this  work,  the  ad- 
dress he  delivered  at  the  mournful  funeral  of 
his  friend,  will  not  be  questioned. 

THE  BREVITY  OF  LIFE. 
Swift  as  an  arrow  cuts  its  way 

Through  the  soft  yielding  air ; 
Or  as  the  sun's  more  subtle  ray, 

Or  lightning's  sudden  glare; 
Or  as  an  eagle  to  the  prey, 

Or  shuttle  through  the  loom  ;— 
So  haste  our  fleeting  lives  away, 

So  rush  we  to  the  tomb. 
Like  airy  bubbles,  lo!  we  rise, 

And  dance  upon  life's  stream  ; 
Till  soon  the  air  that  caus'd,  destroys 

Th'  attenuated  frame. 
Down  the  swift  stream  we  glide  apace, 

And  carry  death  within  ; 
Then  break,  and  scarcely  leave  a  trace 

To  show  that  we  have  been. 
The  man  the  wisest  of  our  kind, 

Who  length  of  days  had  seen; 
To  birth  and  death  a  time  assign'd, 

But  none  to  life  between. 
Yet  lo !  what  consequences  close 

This  transient  state  below ; 
Eternal  joys,  or,  missing  those, 

Interminable  wo. 


THE  CXXXVII  PSALM  PARAPHRASED. 

By  Babel's  streams  we  sat  and  wept ; 

For  Zion's  woes  our  hearts  did  rend : 
Our  harps,  in  tune  no  longer  kept, 

Upon  the  willows  we  suspend. 
For  there  our  foes  insult  us  still, 

And  taunting,  aggravate  our  wrongs — 
"  Captives  display  your  boasted  skill ; 

Come  sing  us  one  of  Zion's  songs." 
The  songs  of  Zion  are  the  Lord's, 

And  his  are  all  the  notes  we  raise ; 
We  will  not  touch  the  tuneful  chords 

Till  we  can  sound  them  in  his  praise. 
While  Zion  lies  in  ruin  still, 

Dare  we  her  dear  remembrance  leave? 
No,  first  these  hands  shall  lose  their  skill, 

These  tongues  shall  to  our  palates  cleave. 
Remember,  Lord,  how  Edom's  sons 

Proudly  contemn'd  us  in  our  woes; 
Triumph'd  o'er  Zion's  scatter'd  stones, 

And  urg'd  to  rage  her  cruel  foes. 
But  God  will  Babylon  destroy. 

Her  righteous  doom  shall  none  retard: 
And  happy  he  who  sees  the  day, 

When  she  shall  meet  her  due  reward. 


150  MEMOIRS  OF 

TO  PARENTS,  &c. 
Parents,  and  all  who  have  in  charge 

To  form  the  rising  race, 
Your  duties  numerous  are  and  large ! 

And  awful  is  your  place. 
The  honour  of  your  Maker's  name, 

The  welfare  of  mankind; 
Your  children's  happiness  and  fame- 
Are  all  to  you  consign'd. 
O  then  invoke  the  aid  of  heav'n, 

Superior  wisdom  ask  ; 
That  love  and  prudence  may  be  giv'n 

To  undertake  the  task. 
And  would  you  much  relieve  your  toil? 

Then  meet  their  tempers  right: 
False  tenderness  is  sure  to  spoil  : 

And  harshness  to  affright. 
Nor  yet  neglect  restraint  too  long, 

Till  nature 's  wild  and  rude: 
Habits  of  vice  may  grow  so  strong 

As  scarce  to  be  subdu'd. 
The  garden  of  the  youthful  mind 

Must  not  be  left  alone: 
Some  work  therein  you  'II  daily  find 

Is  needful  to  be  done. 
The  useful  plant  and  pleasant  flow'r 

Are  rais'd  with  care  and  toil : 
But  noxious  weeds  too  oft  o'erpower  ; 

Congenial  with  the  soil. 

While  green  the  twig,  and  pliant  still, 

Then  bend  it  to  its  place; 
While  warm  the  wax,  impress  the  seal, 

Which  time  will  not  efface. 
And  first,  unto  the  great  Supreme 

Direct  their  high  regard: 
Whith  solemn  awe  to  speak  of  him, 

His  name,  his  works,  his  word. 
And  ever  let  them  rev'rence  yield 

To  his  appointed  day: 
Not  saunt'ring  o'er  the  streets  or  fields 

In  idleness  or  play  ; 
But  to  the  temples  of  his  grace, 

Your  young  immortals  lead  ; 
And  what  they  hear,  at  home  impress, 

And  there  the  Scriptures  read. 

Next,  to  the  pow'rs  which  God  ordains, 

Enjoin  submission  due; 
Obedience  to  superiors  gains 

Authority  to  you. 
Teach  them  with  equals  to  forego, 

All  bickerings  and  strife; 


JOHN  CLARK. 

Peace  and  good  nature  often  know 

A  long  and  happy  life. 
From  savage  cruelty,  O  turn 

Betimes  the  lender  mind! 
Who  torture  insects,  soon  may  learn 

To  butcher  human  kind ! 
But  eveiy  kind  and  gentle  deed 

Should  your  applauses  meet: 
Sure  those  who  kindness  always  need, 

Should  others  kindly  treat. 
To  make  distress  their  merriment, 

Deserves  severest  blame: 
The  wanton  crime  God  may  resent, 

And  make  your  child  the  same! 

Immodest  speeches,  songs  obscene, 

Teach  them  to  shun  and  hate; 
With  what  is  vulgar,  low,  or  mean. 

In  language  or  in  gait. 
But  let  their  minds  retain  and  prize, 

More  than  their  daily  food, 
The  choicest  sayings  of  the  wise, 

And  maxims  of  the  good. 
Dishonest  practices,  and  mean, 

Discountenance  always: 
Nor  let  a  knavish  trick  be  seen, 

E'en  in  their  childish  plays. 
To  hate  a  lie,  to  love  the  truth, 

Inculcate  all  you  can  : 
These  make  an  amiable  youth, 

And  a  respected  man. 

Though  now  their  labour  needless  seems, 

To  industry  inure : 
What  may  befall  in  future  times, 

No  mortal  can  be  sure. 

Let  them  not  idly  pass  a  day, 

Some  useful  study  find, 
Or  innocent  and  healthful  play, 

To  recreate  the  mind. 

But  with  what  play-mates  ere  you  trust 

Your  darling,  O  beware ! 
Example,  like  corroding  rust, 

Will  tarnish  all  your  care. 

Who  would  be  wise,  must  with  the  wise 

Associate  day  by  day: 
Oft,  deeds  that  manhood  signalize 

Are  learned  in  youthful  play. 

Thus  taught  to  act  their  part  aright 

On  life's  important  stage, 
They  now  will  prove  your  heart's  delight, 

And  soothe  your  drooping  age. 


AN  ADDRESS  DELIVERED  AT  THE  INTERMENT. 


— These  are  the  remains  of  the  Rev.  John 

Clark ;  once — alas !  what  language  death 

compels  us  to  use ! — once — the  kind  neigh- 
bour arid  friend  of  these  mourning  connexions 
who  are  bedewing  his  memory  with  their 
tears; — once  the  affectionate  father  of  this 
beloved  son  who  is  raising  his  streaming  eyes 
to  a  nobler  relation, and  saying  "thou  art  the 
guide  of  my  youth;" — once — the  tender 
husband  of  this  pious  widow  who  is  endea- 
vouring to  say,  "  the  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away,  and  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord ;" — once — the  faithful  pastor  of 
this  bereaved  people  who  are  "mourning 
most  of  all  that  they  shall  see  his  face  and 
hear  his  voice  no  more."  

And  for  what  purpose  are  we  assembled 
together] — Not  to  flatter.  Who  could  in- 
dulge in  adulation  with  a  grave  yawning 
under  his  eye? — Not  even  to  eulogize  the 
dead  ; — not  to  enlarge  on  the  excellency  of 


his  character,  his  intellectual  powers,  his  ac- 
quired endowments,  the  originality  of  his 
preaching,  or  the  success  of  his  labours  in 
the  conversion  of  souls,  and  the  formation 
and  enlargement  of  a  flourishing  Christian 
church.  And  the  reason  is — not  because  we 
deem  funeral  eulogy  improper.  The  memo- 
ry of  the  just  is  blessed ;  and  we  ought  to 
hold  up  to  view  examples  of  divine  grace  and 
to  glorify  God  in  them. — Not  because  we  feel 
a  disinclination  to  speak  of  the  deceased.  It 
would  exceedingly  gratify  the  feelings  of 
him  who  is  now  addressing  you  if  he  were 
favoured  with  an  opportunity  to  do  justice  to 
a  character  he  has  always  held  in  the  highest 
esteem. — But  it  would  violate  order  by  anti- 
cipating what  custom  has  rendered  more 
proper  to  bring  forward  in  a  funeral  sermon, 
and  which  will  be  delivered  within  these 
walls  on  the  Lord's-day  morning  by  our 
young  friend  and  brother,  who  now  fully  sue- 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


151 


ceeds  to  the  office  of  the  departed  man  of 
God. — May  a  double  portion  of  the  spirit  of 
Elijah  rest  on  Elisha. 

— What  then  has  drawn  us  around  this 
vault,  and  how  shall  we  occupy  the  few  mo- 
ments sacred  to  this  service  1  We  are  come 
hither  to  see  that  creatures  are  nothing  ;  that 
man  in  his  best  estate  is  altogether  vanity ; 
that  human  distinctions  and  advantages  are 
precarious  and  vanishing.  Here  the  rich  and 
the  poor  meet  together.  The  small  and  the 
great  are  here.  And  how  dieth  the  wise 
man  ]  Even  as  the  fool.  "  The  voice  said, 
cry ;  and  I  said,  what  shall  I  cry — All  flesh 
is  grass  and  all  the  goodliness  thereof  is  as 
the  flower  of  the  field." 

We  are  called  hither  to  contemplate  the 
evil  of  sin.  It  is  this  that  has  turned  us  out 
of  paradise  into  a  wilderness ;  it  is  this  that 
has  cursed  the  ground  and  sown  it  with 
thorns  and  briers ;  it  is  this  that  has  stored 
the  elements  with  mischief ;  it  is  this  that 
has  produced  earthquakes,  famine,  pestilence, 
war ;  it  is  this  that  has  infected  the  constitu- 
tion with  numberless  diseases,  that  breaks  in 
pieces  the  human  frame,  that  tears  asunder 
the  bonds  that  attach  so  closely  together  the 
various  relations  of  life,  that  reduces  the  lovely 
form  to  putrefaction,  that  compels  us  to  bury 
our  dead  out  of  our  sight,  "  where  they  say 
to  corruption,  Thou  art  my  father ;  and  unto 
the  worm,  Thou  art  my  mother  and  sister." 
And  do  you — can  you  love  sin  ?  Can  you 
serve  a  monster  stained  with  the  blood  of 
every  dear  relation,  and  of  all  mankind  !  Can 
you  roll  that  as  a  sweet  morsel  under  your 
tongue  which  is  infinitely  more  poisonous 
than  the  gall  of  asps  1 — If  there  was  no  other 
consideration  to  excite  an  abhorrence  of  sin, 
this  is  surely  sufficient — that  it  "  brought 
death  into  the  world  and  all  our  wo." 

We  are  called  together  to  learn  what  we 
are  so  prone  to  forget,  that  we  are  dying,  and 
by  an  instance  of  mortality  in  another  to  be 
reminded  of  our  own.  We  are  all  partakers 
of  the  same  nature :  we  are  all  under  the  ope- 
ration of  the  same  sentence,  "  dust  thou  art 
and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return."  Death  is 
the  "  way  of  all  the  earth  :"  the  grave  "  the 
house  appointed  for  all  living."  In  other 
wars  there  are  exemptions,  there  are  dismis- 
sions, but  in  this  "there  is  no  discharge." 
The  solemnities  and  services  that  we  see  at- 
tending our  neighbours,  friends,  and  relations, 
will  be  required  for  us: — will  be  required 
certainly ;  and  will  be  required  soon.  "  For 
what  is  our  life  ]  It  is  even  a  vapour  that  ap- 
peareth  for  a  little  time  and  then  vanisheth 
away."  "  Our  days  are  swifter  than  a  wea- 
ver's shuttle."  Every  image  that  art  and  na- 
ture can  supply  is  employed  in  the  Scriptures 
to  hold  forth  the  brevity  of  our  duration  upon 
earth :  but  no  language  can  express,  no  ima- 
gination can  conceive  the  importance  at- 
tached to  the  termination  of  it.    And  yet  it  is 


as  true  as  it  astonishing — that  the  principal 
care  of  thousands  is  only  to  keep  this  most  in- 
teresting of  all  subjects  from  their  thoughts ! 
But  if  there  are  any  such  deluded  creatures 
hearing  me  this  morning,  let  me  remind  you 
— that  shutting  your  eyes  against  danger  is 
not  providing  for  your  security  :  that  your 
putting  the  evil  day  far  off  is  not  putting  it 
away  ;  that  your  forgetfulness  of  the  event 
does  not  even  retard  its  approach. — While  I 
speak  you  die.  Every  breath  you  draw,  every 
pulse  you  beat  brings  you  nearer  the  hour 
that  will  demonstrate  the  insufficiency  of  the 
world  to  succour  you,  and  lay  open  to  your 
view  those  states  of  immortal  existence  that 
await  you  beyond  the  grave.  And  can  you 
deem  it  improper  or  needless  to  realize  this 
truth?  and  make  this  awful  fact  the  subject 
of  serious  reflection  !  Would  it  not  be  rea- 
sonable and  useful  to  say  individually  to  your- 
selves— "  Suppose  my  body  was  nailed  up  in 
this  coffin,  in  what  region,  and  with  what  as- 
sociates would  my  soul  now  be  found  1 — 
Should  I  be  joined  to  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  or  have  my  portion  with  the 
devil  and  his  angels  1"  Would  it  not  be 
pious,  would  it  not  be  blessed  to  pray,  "  Make 
me  to  know  my  end  and  the  measure  of  my 
days  what  it  is,  that  I  may  know  how  frail  1 
am.  So  teach  us  to  number  our  days  that 
we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom  1" 

We  are  come  hither  to  inquire  what  can 
prepare  us  to  meet  the  king  of  terrors,  and 
make  us  more  than  conquerors  over  the  last 
enemy  that  is  to  be  destroyed.    And  here,  by 
every  thing  that  is  awful  and  interesting,  let 
me  beseech  you  to  guard  not  only  against  in- 
difference but  against  mistake.    For  there  is 
a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a  man,  but  it 
ends  in  the  most  dreadful  disappointment. 
The  consequences  of  delusion  are  remediless; 
the  possibility  of  it  is  obvious ;  the  frequency 
of  it  is  certain.    There  are  many  whose  hope 
is  as  the  spider's  web — curiously  wrought 
but  easily  destroyed.    Search  the  Scriptures 
therefore,  and  pray  that  the  spirit  of  God  may 
lead  you  into  all  truth.    You  will  then  be 
directed  to  Him  in  whom  our  absent  friend 
alone  trusted,  and  in  whom  he  found  "  right- 
eousness and  strength :"  to  Him  who  presents 
himself  to  us  under  every  form  of  kindness 
and  love,  and  cries  "Come  unto  me  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden  and  I  will 
give  you  rest:"  to  Him  who  even  among 
these  desolations  and  triumphs  of  mortality 
appears,  "  the  resurrection  and  the  life,"  and 
promises  "  He  that  believeth  in  me  though 
he  were  dead  yet  shall  he  live ;  and  whoso- 
ever liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never 
die." — Belie  vest  thou  this  7 — Are  you  con- 
vinced that  he  is  the  only  foundation  on  which 
a  sinner  can  build  with  safety  1    That  he  is 
the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life ;  and  that  no 
man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  him  1 
That  he  once  suffered  for  sins  the  just  for  the 


152  MEMOIRS  OF 

unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  unto  God] 
That  he  is  our  peace  ;  and  that  by  his  stripes 
we  are  healed !  Have  you  ever  addressed 
him  in  the  language  of  Peter,  "  Lord  save  or 
I  perish  !"  Have  you  ever  committed  your 
eternal  concerns  into  his  hand,  knowing  in 
whom  you  have  believed  !  Is  the  life  that  you 
now  live  in  the  flesh  by  the  faith  of  the  Son 
of  God  who  loved  you  and  gave  himself  for 
you !  Is  he  every  thing  to  you,  and  is  he 
every  thing  with  you !  Is  the  same  mind  in 
you  that  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus !  Does  the 
same  blood  that  speaks  peace  to  your  troubled 
consciences  purify  them  also  from  dead  works 
to  serve  the  living  and  true  God  1 — Such  a 
man  is  prepared  for  life  with  all  its  events  ; 
for  death  with  all  its  importance.  Let  him 
die  how  lie  will — where  he  will — when  he 
will ;  to  die  is  gain.  The  consequences  of 
death  being  so  tremendous,  and  the  uncer- 
tainty of  life  being  so  manifestly  great,  no 
man,  while  unfit  to  leave  this  world,  can  pos- 
sibly enjoy  any  happiness,  but  from  ignorance 
or  diversion :  the  moment  he  reflects,  his 
peace  and  pleasure  melt  away.  But  what  a 
source  of  tranquillity  and  satisfaction  has  he, 
— who  possesses  a  good  hope  through  grace 
that  he  is  "  accepted  in  the  beloved ;"  that 
he  has  "  redemption  through  his  blood  even 
the  forgiveness  of  sins ;"  that  "  God  has  given 
to  him  the  earnest  of  the  spirit:" — who 
knows  that  while  "  the  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle  is  dissolving,  he  has  a  building  of 
God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal 
in  the  heavens :" — who  can  say  "  Yea  though 
I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with 
me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me" 
— "  I  have  waited  for  thy  salvation,  O  Lord." 
This  man  alone  is  worthy  of  our  envy.  "  Let 
me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his." 

We  are  called  hither  to  weep  and  mourn. 
It  would  argue  a  criminal  insensibility  if 
when  the  righteous  perished  no  man  laid  it 
to  heart.  It  would  defeat  the  moral  pur- 
poses of  Heaven  in  the  dispensation.  "  By  the 
sadness  of  the  countenance  the  heart  is  made 
better."  On  such  an  occasion  as  this — 
"  Our  grief  becomes  us  and  our  tears  are  just." 

Not  indeed  with  regard  to  the  deceased.  He 
is  released,  indulged,  enriched,  dignified,  ex- 
ceeding abundantly  above  all  we  could  ask  or 
think:  and  with  subordinate  propriety  he 
could  say  to  survivors  with  our  Lord  "  If  ye 
loved  me  ye  would  rejoice,  because  I  said  I  go 
unto  the  Father."  But  his  gain  is  our  loss. 
We  lose  by  his  removal,  a  benefactor,  a  de- 
fender, an  advocate,  an  example :  and  when 
we  look,  and  see  reason  weeping,  mercy 
weeping,  truth  weeping,  religion  weeping, 
can  we  avoid  the  sympathy,  and  refuse  to 
weep  too ! — As  such  men,  such  Christians, 
such  ministers  withdraw,  what  a  melancholy 


JOHN  CLARK. 

hue  they  cast  around — how  they  impoverish 
our  world — how  they  come  "over  us  like 
clouds  to  cool  our  brain  less  arduous" — how 
they  wean  us 

From  these  low  grounds  where  sorrows  grow 
And  every  pleasure  dies. 

— How  they  allure  us  upwards,  and  induce 
us  to  say  with  Thomas,  "  Let  us  go  away  that 
we  may  die  with  him." 

We  are  called  hither  to  pay  the  last  token 
of  respect  to  the  revered  remains  now  lying 
before  us.  What  though  these  eyes  that  once 
beamed  intelligence  are  closed  in  darkness ; 
what  though  these  lips  are  silent  that  once 
proclaimed  the  Saviour's  love ;  what  though 
this  body  be  now  deserted  of  its  immortal  in- 
habitant, and  is  reduced  to  a  senseless  clod — 
yet  it  is  not  to  be  despised — it  was  the  work- 
manship of  God — it  was  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost — it  did  accompany  the  soul  in 
every  trial  and  duty — it  is  the  Redeemer's 
purchase — it  shall  be  "  changed  and  fashioned 
like  his  own  glorious  body,  according  to  the 
working  whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue 
all  things  unto  himself." — In  the  belief  of  this 
truth  we  commit  this  precious  seed  to  the 
dust. — 

[Here  the  corpse  was  laid  in  the  grave.] 

— "  It  is  sown  in  dishonour;  it  is  raised  in 
glory:  it  is  sown  in  weakness;  it  is  raised  in 
power :  it  is  sown  a  natural  body ;  it  is  raised 
a  spiritual  body.  There  is  a  natural  body,  and 
there  is  a  spiritual  body.  And  so  it  is  writ- 
ten, the  first  man  Adam  was  made  a  living 
soul ;  the  last  Adam  was  made  a  quickening 
spirit.  Howbeit  that  was  not  first  which  is 
spiritual,  but  that  which  is  natural ;  and  af- 
terward that  which  is  spiritual.  The  first 
man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy :  the  second  man 
is  the  Lord  from  heaven.  As  is  the  earthy, 
such  are  they  also  that  are  earthy ;  and  as  is 
the  heavenly,  sucli  are  they  also  that  are  hea- 
venly. And  as  we  have  borne  the  image  of 
the  earthy,  we  shall  also  bear  the  image  of  the 
heavenly.  Now  this  I  say,  brethren,  that 
flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  God  ;  neither  doth  corruption  inherit  incor- 
ruption.  Behold,  I  show  you  a  mystery  ;  we 
shall  not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be  chan- 
ged, in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
at  the  last  trump:  for  the  trumpet  shall  sound, 
and  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incorruptible, 
and  we  shall  be  changed.  For  this  corrupti- 
ble must  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal 
must  put  on  immortality.  So  when  this  cor- 
ruptible shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and 
this  mortal  shall  have  put  on  immortality, 
then  shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying  that 
is  written,  death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory. 
O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  1  O  grave,  where 
is  thy  victory  !  The  sting  of  death  is  sin  ; 
and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But  thanks 
|  be  to  God,  which  giveth  us  the  victory 


MEMOIRS  OF  JOHN  CLARK. 


153 


through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Therefore, 
my  beloved  brethren,  be  ye  steadfast,  immove- 
able, always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord  ;  forasmuch  as  ye  know  that  your  labour 
is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 

And  now  servant  of  God  farewell.  We  turn 
away  from  thy  tomb  to  mingle  with  thy  spirit, 
and  to  transcribe  the  excellencies  of  thy  life 
into  our  own.  We  hail  thee.  Thy  warfare 
is  accomplished.  Thy  tears  are  wiped  away. 
Thou  hast  reached  him  who  was  the  end  of 
thy  conversation,  "  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yes- 
terday, to-day,  and  for  ever."  We  rejoice 
that  no  man  has  taken  thy  crown.  We  rejoice 
that  thou  hast  left  a  profession  unstained  by 
error  or  by  vice.  We  rejoice  that  we  have 
nothing  to  conceal,  nothing  to  extenuate 
when  thy  name,  mentioned  in  public  or  in 
private,  awakens  the  attentions  it  deserves. 
— Thy  dying  pillow  was  not  perplexed  with 


those  anxious  forebodings  that  have  tried  the 
faith  of  many ;  the  objects  of  thy  regard  are 
amply  enriched  by  the  bounty  of  providence, 
and  are  disposed  to  honour  the  Lord  with 
their  substance.  The  wife  of  thy  bosom  is 
following  hard  after  thee :  and  the  son  of  her 
womb,  and  the  son  of  her  vows  is  resolving,  at 
thy  hallowed  grave,  that  she  shall  not  travel 
alone — her  people  shall  be  his  people,  and  her 
God  his  God.  Thine  eyes  have  seen  the  good 
of  Jerusalem ;  a  numerous  church  undivided 
and  peaceful,  blessed  with  a  pastor  after  thine 
own  heart  "  who  shall  feed  them  with  know- 
ledge and  understanding  ;"  and  who,  though 
"  young  and  tender,"  is  looking  to  that  grace 
that  is  sufficient  for  him. — 

Our  separation  is  only  temporary  ;  a  time  of 
re-union  is  hastening  on.  Farewell,  Farewell. 
— We  shall  soon  meet  thee  in  that  world 
where  the  sound  will  be  heard  no  more. 


U 


PREFACE 


LIFE  OF  MRS.  SAVAGE. 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


In  November  last,  going  to  Shrewsbury  to 
preach  for  the  Swan  Hill  Sunday-school,  I 
called  upon  my  amiable  and  worthy  friend, 
the  editor  of  the  following  sheets.  He 
showed  me  a  number  of  manuscript  volumes, 
filled  with  the  diary  and  remarks  of  Mrs. 
Savage;  and  intimated  some  design  of  pub- 
lishing a  selection  from  them.  I  was  so  im- 
pressed and  delighted,  after  hearing  various 
extracts,  indiscriminately  taken,  that  I  ap- 
plauded the  wish,  and  endeavoured  to  accele- 
rate the  accomplishment  of  it.  Having  there- 
fore rendered  myself  in  some  measure  re- 
sponsible for  the  publication,  by  my  opinion 
and  advice,  I  the  more  readily  comply  with 
his  desire  in  writing  a  few  words  by  way  of 
introduction. 

The  relationship  of  this  good  woman  will 
deservedly  bespeak  some  peculiar  attention 
to  the  following  pages :  for  who,  without  sen- 
timents of  love  and  veneration,  can  think  of 
PHILIP  HENRY,  her  Father,  and  of  MAT- 
THEW HENRY,  her  Brother  ? 

The  daughter  and  the  sister  was  worthy 
of  her  excellent  kindred.  She  possessed 
much  of  their  piety,  and  no  inconsiderable 
share  of  their  talent.  She  had  their  familiar 
acquaintance  with  the  Scripture;  their  prompt 
remembrance  of  its  significant  phrases ;  and 
their  easy  and  pertinent  accommodation  ofthem 
to  events.  She  had  the  same  devoutness  of 
remark ;  the  same  sprightliness  of  observation ; 
the  same  degree  of  quaintness — just  sufficient 
to  awaken  notice,  and  aid  recollection,  but 
not  enough  entirely  to  offend  good  taste. 

She  was  "  a  gracious  woman,  and  she  re- 
tains honour."  By  the  providence  of  Him 
who  has  said,  "  Them  that  honour  me  I  will 
honour,"  after  serving  her  generation  accord- 
ing to  the  will  of  God,  and  falling  asleep,  her 
memory,  at  the  distance  of  more  than  a  cen- 
tury, is  blessed ;  and  her  works,  written  in 
the  closet,  praise  her  in  the  gate. 

The  species  of  writing  in  which  she  so 
largely  indulged,  was  far  more  common  in  her 
days  than  it  is  in  ours.  It  has  been  abused, 
and  rendered  ridiculous  by  its  minuteness  and 
too  frequent  publication:  yet  properly  con- 


ducted, it  would  prove  eminently  conducive 
to  usefulness.  It  would  promote  communion 
with  Providence,  and  bring  a  man  within  the 
reach  of  the  promise,  "  Whoso  is  wise,  and 
will  observe  these  things,  even  they  shall  un- 
derstand the  lovingkindness  of  the  Lord." 
It  would  secure  the  habit  of  retirement,  and 
the  practice  of  self-inspection.  It  would  en- 
able the  writer,  in  review,  to  compare  him- 
self with  himself,  and  awaken  humiliation  and 
repentance,  when,  instead  of  growing  in  grace 
and  in  the  knowledge  of  his  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour, he  found  that  he  was  standing  still,  or 
had  left  his  first  love. — And  though  we  have 
not  the  formality  of  the  thing  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, we  have  many  indications  of  the  princi- 
ple :  as  in  the  names  which  Joseph  and  Moses 
imposed  upon  their  children;  in  the  stone 
which  Samuel  reared  and  called  Ebenezer ; 
in  the  pot  of  manna,  and  Aaron's  rod  that 
budded,  laid  up  in  the  ark;  in  the  command — 
"  Thou  shall  remember  all  the  way  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  led  thee  these  forty  years  in  the 
wilderness:"  in  the  reproof— "Of  the  rock 
that  begat  thee  thou  art  unmindful,  and  hast 
forgotten  the  God  that  formed  thee :"  in  the 
resolution — "  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and 
forget  not  all  his  benefits." 

Some  diaries  were  written,  either  for  the 
express  purpose  of  meeting  the  public  eye, 
or  in  the  apprehended  probability  of  it.  When 
this  is  known  to  be  the  case,  we  cannot  pe- 
ruse them  with  the  same  degree  of  pleasure 
and  freedom  as  when  they  seem  written  for 
their  own  sake,  and  betray  no  wish  to  produce 
effect.  Nothing  was  further  from  the  mind 
of  Mrs.  Savage,  than  the  public  exhibition  of 
what  she  wrote.  It  was  solely  inscribed  for 
her  own  use  and  edification.  Her  views  in  it 
she  has  thus  recorded.  "It  is  in  my  thoughts 
to  do  something  in  the  nature  of  a  diary, 
being  encouraged  by  the  advantage  others 
have  gained  thereby,  and  the  hope  that  I 
might  be  furthered  by  it  in  a  godly  life, 
and  be  more  watchful  over  the  frame  of  my 
heart,  when  it  must  be  kept  on  record.  I 
would  approve  myself  to  God,  who  alone 
knows  the  sincerity  of  my  heart.  To  him  I 
154 


PREFACE  TO  THE  LIFE  OF  MRS.  SAVAGE. 


155 


have  made  known  my  request  herein,  and  I 
heartily  beg,  that  what  I  shall  at  any  time 
put  down,  may  be  the  workings  of  my  heart, 
and  that  in  nothing  I  may  bear  witness  against 
myself."  In  this  temper  of  mind  the  whole 
seems  to  have  been  penned :  and  nothing  can 
be  more  pleasing  or  edifying  than  the  peru- 
sal of  such  unstudied,  undisguised  represent- 
ations of  her  conscience  and  her  character. 

The  inspection  shows  us,  that  a  dissent  from 
the  National  Church  may  be  founded  in  con- 
viction, as  well  as  education ;  and  does  not 
necessarily  imply  a  fastidious,  or  a  factious 
disposition ;  that  it  does  not  render  its  subject 
blind  to  what  is  good  or  excellent  in  the 
doctrine  and  liturgy  of  the  establishment,  or 
prevent  prayer  for  its  success,  or  rejoicing  in 
its  welfare.  It  shows  us  too,  how  little  it  en- 
courages disaffection  to  civil  obedience,  or 
forbids  "  rendering  to  Caesar  the  things  that  are 
Caesar's."  Could  the  diaries  of  Mrs.  Savage's 
times  be  explored,  what  a  contrast  would  be 
found  between  the  sentiments  such  worthies 
confessed  before  God  in  their  most  sacred 
moments,  and  those  charged  upon  them  by 
their  calumniating  adversaries.  Take  the 
following  extract  from  the  journal  of  her  ho- 
noured father,  when  deprived  of  his  living  for 
conscience'  sake : — 

"  1663,  May  29th.  A  thanksgiving  day  for 
the  king's  return ;  a  mercy  in  itself,  for  which 
the  Lord  be  praised,  though  I,  and  many  more, 
suffer  by  it." 

We  perceive  in  these  pages,  that  evangeli- 
cal principles  do  not  lead  to  licentiousness, 
but  are  friendly  to  every  duty  we  owe  to 
God,  our  fellow-creatures,  and  ourselves. 
Where  do  we  here  see  any  traces  of — that 
bold  familiarity  with  the  Supreme  Being — 
of  that  contempt  of  others,  which  cries,  Stand 
by,  I  am  holier  than  thou — of  that  relaxation 
of  vigilance ;  that  carelessness  of  conduct ; 
that  presumptuousness  of  hope,  which  in  the 
minds  and  languages  of  many,  seem  for  ever 
identified  with  the  doctrines  of  grace  1 

We  may  see  here  somewhat  of  the  nature 
and  value  of  Christian  experience.  We  are 
accustomed  to  speak  of  doctrine,  experience, 
and  practice ;  but  though  these  are  in  a  measure 
different,  they  are  not  separable  :  they  resem- 
ble the  colours  in  the  rainbow  ;  you  can  dis- 
tinguish them,  but  you  cannot  limit;  they 
imperceptibly  melt  into  each  other.  Christian 
experience  results  from  enlightened  views  of 
divine  things,  which  is  no  other  than  doctrinal 
belief:  and  it  issues  in  the  conversation  and 
life — which  is  nothing  less  than  practical 
godliness.  Yea  these  operate  mutually,  as 
cause  and  effect :  for  as  our  perceptions  in- 
fluence our  feelings,  and  these  our  conduct ; 
so  practice  increases  our  feelings,  and  these 
aid  our  judgment ;  for  the  exemplification  of 
our  religious  views  in  our  dispositions  and 
actions,  renders  them  more  clear,  and  more 
powerful.    Hence  the  meaning  of  the  term ; 


for  experience  signifies  knowledge  derived 
from  trial,  in  contradistinction  to  conjecture 
and  theory.  A  Christian  does  not  at  first  adopt 
religious  sentiments,  or  engage  in  religious 
exercises,  with  a  view  to  make  experiments ; 
yet  a  reception  of  the  former,  and  an  atten- 
tion to  the  latter  have  this  effect.  They  put 
these  things  into  a  state  of  trial ;  and  a  new 
kind  of  evidence  is  obtained  by  the  individual. 
He  that  believeth  hath  the  witness  in  him- 
self; and  though  it  may  not  be  convincing  to 
others,  it  is  very  satisfactory  to  his  own  heart, 
and  lie  is  neither  to  be  ridiculed,  or  argued 
out  of  it.  Hence,  says  our  Lord,  "  Ye  shall 
know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free."  Hence  men  are  invited  to  "  taste  and 
see  that  the  Lord  is  good."  Hence  Christians 
are  represented  as  having  "  tasted  that  the 
Lord  is  gracious."  Hence  David  says,  "  Be- 
cause thou  hast  been  my  help,  therefore  under 
the  shadow  of  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice :"  and 
Paul  exults,  "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed, 
and  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that 
which  I  have  committed  to  him  against  that 
day." 

I  here  look  into  Mrs.  Savage's  heart,  and  I 
see  this  satisfaction — yet  not  excluding  many 
anxious  and  painful  feelings  :  and  the  Chris- 
tian is  pourtrayed  in  the  Scripture,  by  his  fear, 
as  well  as  by  his  confidence ;  by  his  weeping, 
as  well  as  rejoicing.  A  stone  remains  the 
same  all  the  year ;  but  what  changes  does 
the  living  tree  feel,  and  what  different  aspects 
does  it  exhibit  in  the  four  seasons  ?  I  see  in 
this  subject  of  divine  grace,  no  vain,  no  proud 
pretensions ;  she  nowhere  says,  "  I  have  made 
my  heart  clean,  I  am  pure  from  my  sin ;"  "  I 
have  already  attained,  I  am  already  perfect :" 
but  in  every  page  she  cries,  "  This  one  thing  I 
do,  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind,  and 
reaching  forth  unto  those  that  are  before,  I 
press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  my 
high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  Amidst 
all  her  complaints  of  the  want  of  more  con- 
formity and  devotedness  to  God,  we  still  see 
her — differing  from  others — a  new  creature 
— God's  workmanship:  and  we  see  reason 
why  Christians,  under  all  their  acknowledged 
imperfections,  are  called  "righteous,"  and 
"  godly,"  and  "  holy,"  and  "  spiritual :" — for 
we  see  the  complete  state  to  which  she 
aspired  powerfully  at  work  in  its  principles ; 
already  commenced  in  its  preparations;  al- 
ready insured  in  its  earnests ;  already  en- 
joyed in  its  foretastes.  We  see  "  the  path  of 
the  just,  which  is  as  the  shining  light,  that 
shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

The  experience  of  Mrs.  Savage  shows  us, 
that  religion  is  not  always  begun  abruptly,  or 
in  a  manner  bordering  on  prodigy.  It  is  often 
derived,  under  the  divine  agency,  from  pious 
education,  family  worship,  parental  instruc- 
tion, holy  example.  Mr.  Baxter  goes  so  far 
as  to  say,  that  if  these  were  discharged  as 
they  ought  to  be,  even  the  preaching  of  the 


156 


PREFACE  TO  THE  LIFE  OF  MRS.  SAVAGE. 


word  would  not  be  the  most  common  means 
of  conversion.  It  is  certain  that  many  of  the 
most  eminent  and  useful  ministers  among 
the  puritans  and  nonconformists  were  not 
converted  from  a  course  of  profligacy,  but 
were  trained  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord;  from  children  knew  the  holy 
Scriptures :  and  the  change  in  them  was  as 
gradual  in  its  progress,  as  it  was  proved  to  be 
real  and  divine  in  its  effects. 

Many,  I  fear,  are  tempted  to  think  suspici- 
ously or  loweringly  of  the  acquisition  of  reli- 
gion in  this  humble  and  unostentatious  mode : 
and  deem  it  far  preferable,  that  a  man  should 
have  been  led  from  the  depths  of  Satan  into 
the  way  everlasting;  have  felt  a  sudden  vio- 
lence ;  and,  after  enduring  insufferable  terror 
and  anguish,  be  elevated  into  confidence  and 
rapture.    We  are  not  to  limit  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel ;  yet  ought  we  to  be  careful,  not  to 
draw  universal  conclusions  from  particular 
cases,  or  convert  exceptions  into  general 
rules.    It  is  one  of  the  golden  sentences  of 
Mr.  Henry,  her  brother,  "  God  is  sometimes 
found  of  them  that  seek  him  not,  but  he  is  al- 
ways found  of  them  that  seek  him."    It  is  a 
mercy  if  God  calls  us  by  his  grace  in  any 
way ;  but  where  the  certainty  of  the  change 
is  so  extremely  obvious,  the  subject  is  too 
prone  to  rest  convinced  of  the  fact,  instead  of 
praying  "  create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God, 
and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me."  From 
the  apparent  magnitude  of  the  change,  he  is 
too  prone  to  feel,  as  if  it  had  finished  a  work 
which  it  only  began.    From  the  superior 
notice  and  wonder  it  excites,  the  more  temp- 
tation is  there  to  spiritual  vanity  and  pride. 
The  suddenness  of  the  illumination  frequent- 
ly dazzles,  while  it  enlightens ;  and  the  man 
is  likely  to  feel  and  retain  a  partial  attach- 
ment to  some  one  religious  doctrine,  accord- 
ing to  the  first  direction  his  mind  takes  under 
such  a  novel  and  powerful  impression:  and 
for  want  of  those  relative  views,  which  should 
accompany  and  qualify  and  direct  his  fervour, 
his  zeal  is  seldom  according  to  knowledge. 
Often  too,  coarseness  and  freedom  of  manners 
result  from  former  viciousness,  of  which  the 
individuals  themselves  are  not  aware,  but 
which  expose  them  in  their  social,  especially 
female  intercourse.  I  never  knew  a  professor 
of  religion,  or  a  preacher  of  the  word,  who 
fell  by  certain  temptations,  but  had  been,  pre- 
viously to  his  connexion  with  the  Christian 
world,  the  victim  of  vice.  Moral  and  virtuous 
habits  produce  delicacy  and  impose  restraint. 
Former  scenes  of  guilt  will  often  revive  in 
the  imagination;  and  though  they  are  not 
entertained  there,  yet  by  passing  through  the 
mind,  they  defile  it,  and  distress  it.    I  have 
heard  more  than  one  pious  character  confess 
the  pain  and  injury  he  has  suffered  from  this 
quartc-,  even  in  his  public  and  retired  devo- 
tions, and  who  would  have  given  the  world 
to  be  free  from  the  shocks  he  received  from 


the  hauntings  of  the  ghosts  of  his  old  iniqui- 
ties. To  which  he  may  add,  that  though 
morality  is  not  religion,  yet  it  is  a  social  be- 
nefit— but  the  man  called  from  the  dregs  of 
profaneness,  has  to  look  back  upon  the  injury 
he  has  done  to  others,  and  to  mourn  over  ef- 
fects which  he  cannot  repair.  He  has  led  astray 
many  that  he  may  never  be  able  to  reclaim  ; 
and  seeing  those  running  the  downward  road, 
whom  he  led  into  it  and  encouraged  by  his 
vices,  influence,  and  example,  how  often,  as 
he  advances  towards  heaven,  which  he  is 
almost  ashamed  to  enter,  must  he  sigh  and 
pray,  "  Deliver  me  from  blood-guiltiness,  O 
God  of  my  salvation." 

These  reflections  are  not  designed  to  ex- 
clude any  from  hope,  however  deeply  they 
have  transgressed ;  or  to  withhold  esteem  and 
confidence  from  those  who  have  obtained 
mercy ;  but  to  remove  a  mistake  by  no  means 
uncommon;  and  to  induce  those  who  have 
been  preserved  from  vice,  to  be  peculiarly 
thankful,  that  they  were  moral  before  they 
were  converted  ;  and  to  bless  God  for  those 
early  advantages  which  led  them  into  con- 
nected and  consistent  views  of  religion ;  and 
that  their  characters  were  formed  after 
models  of  excellency,  placed  constantly  in 
sight,  and  endeared  by  all  the  claims  of  na- 
ture. They  are  designed  also  to  call  upon 
parents,  not  to  leave  their  children  to  a  kind 
of  religious  chance  ;  or  to  suppose  that  divine 
grace  is  a  thing  perfectly  independent  of 
rational  and  pious  means,  instead  of  being 
connected  with  them  and  conveyed  by  them, 
and  in  them.  Let  the  command  and  the  pro- 
mise be  ever  in  their  mind :  "  Train  up  a 
child  in  the  way  that  he  should  go,  and  when 
he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  Not 
that  means  are  ever  sufficient  of  themselves 
without  the  divine  blessing,  (and  therefore 
there  is  as  much  need  of  prayer  as  of  exer- 
tion,) but  when  God  has  appointed  the  means, 
and  engaged  to  bless  them,  our  hope  is  well 
founded;  and  in  the  proper  use  of  them 
we  may  expect  success  with  as  much  cer- 
tainty, as  in  nature,  the  sower  expects  to 
reap. 

Finally.  I  have  no  wish  to  hinder  the 
humbling  sense  of  inferiority,  which  persons 
acquainted  with  themselves  will  feel  in  read- 
ing these  papers.  There  are  certainly  de- 
grees of  religious  excellency.  Even  the 
good  ground  brought  forth  in  the  varied  pro- 
portions of  thirty,  sixty,  and  an  hundred  fold. 
What  a  difference  do  we  see  between  Abra- 
ham and  Lot,  with  regard  to  lowliness  of 
mind,  self-denial,  and  a  spirit  of  conciliation. 
What  a  difference  between  the  centurion, 
who  took  our  Saviour  at  his  word,  and  Thomas, 
who  required  every  kind  of  sensible  evidence. 
— And  Christians  are  in  honour  to  prefer  one 
another.  Yet  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
what  is  written  in  such  diaries  as  this,  is  the 
fruit  of  retirement  and  reflection,  and  the 


PREFACE  TO  THE  LIFE  OF  MRS.  SAVAGE. 


157 


summary  of  the  best  feelings  called  forth  in 
the  presence  of  God.  And  whatever  modern 
Christians  think  of  themselves,  I  love  not  for 
others  to  view  them  as  a  race,  very  inferior 
to  those  who  lived  in  an  earlier  period.  We 
know  who  has  said,  "  Say  not  thou,  what  is 
the  cause  that  the  former  days  were  better 
than  these?  for  thou  dost  not  inquire  wisely 
concerning  this." 

There  may  be  the  same  degree  of  religious 
principle,  while  yet  it  is  put  forth  in  different 
ways.  Even  the  constitutional  temper  will 
have  some  influence,  as  we  see  in  the  case 
of  Martha  and  Mary.  There  was  the  same 
regard  to  our  Saviour  in  each;  but  Martha 
was  cumbered  about  much  serving,  while 
Mary  sat  at  his  feet  to  hear  his  words ;  and 
when,  after  the  death  of  the  brother,  he  was 
coming  into  Bethany,  Martha  went  out  to 
meet  him,  but  Mary  sat  still  in  the  house. — 
Nor  should  we  forget,  that  the  providence  of 
God  often  diversifies  the  direction  of  religious 
principle.  At  one  time  it  peculiarly  calls 
forth  the  passive,  at  another,  the  active  graces 
of  the  Christian:  at  one  season  it  requires 
more  of  the  private  exercises  of  godliness,  at 
another,  more  of  its  public  efforts:  winter 
leads  the  sap  down  into  the  roots,  while  sum- 
mer calls  it  up  into  the  branches,  and  dis- 
plays it  in  the  blossoms  and  the  fruit. 

We  readily  acknowledge,  that  with  regard 
to  the  more  private  and  retired  influence  of 
religion,  they  who  lived  in  the  days  of  Mrs. 
Savage  were  superior  to  the  generality  of 
modern  Christians;  but  we  make  no  scruple 
to  say,  many  modern  Christians  are  far 
superior  to  them  in  public  spirit  and  active 
exertions.  If  the  river  spreads  wide,  or  flows 
in  various  fertilizing  currents,  it  cannot  be 
expected  to  roll  so  deep.  How  little  work- 
ing, comparatively,  do  we  find  even  in  the 
feelings  of  many  of  these  worthies  towards 
the  cause  of  God  at  large !  Their  own  souls, 
their  families,  their  particular  churches — 
these  drew  forth  their  concern,  but  too  much 
restricted  it  too.  The  present  day  exhibits 
a  very  different  scene:  and  from  a  thousand 
public  assemblies,  convened  for  the  very  pur- 
pose, and  evincing  their  sincerity  and  fer- 
vency by  their  efforts  and  sacrifices,  we  hear 
the  exclamation,  "  Let  the  whole  earth  be 
filled  with  his  glory."  There  is  indeed  a 
danger,  that  keeping  other  men's  vineyards 
we  should  not  be  attentive  to  our  own :  and 
that  our  zeal  should  expend  itself  so  much 
abroad,  as  to  be  extinguished  before  it  reaches 
home :  on  the  other  hand  it  is  true  (though 
liable  to  perversion  and  abuse,)  that  if  we 
mind  God's  affairs  he  will  mind  ours;  and 
that,  while  doing  his  work,  he  that  watereth 
shall  be  watered  also.    In  the  unprofitable- 


ness of  those  ministers,  the  barrenness  of 
those  churches,  and  the  deadness  of  those 
professors,  who  from  their  selfishness,  or  sloth, 
or  any  doctrinal  restraint,  come  not  up  to  the 
help  of  the  Lord,  may  be  found  at  this  hour 
illustrations  of  the  truth  of  David's  words: 
"  Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  they  shall 
prosper  that  love  thee." 

Had  many  Christians  now  living  been 
cotemporaries  with  Mrs.  Savage,  they  would 
have  devoted  that  time  and  attention  to  re- 
ligion in  its  retreats,  which  seemed  not  so 
much  called  for  abroad.  And  had  many  who 
lived  in  her  days  been  born  in  ours,  they 
would  have  sprung  forth  at  the  call  of  those 
institutions  which  we  have  witnessed ;  and, 
following  the  direction  of  Heaven,  have  fallen 
in  with  a  state  of  things  which  demands  the 
utmost  co-operation  and  activity ;  and  which 
not  only  allows,  but  demands  that  every  sub- 
ject of  divine  grace  should  be  also  its  instru- 
ment and  its  agent :  and  when  by  teaching 
poor  children  and  adults  to  read  and  write, 
by  dispensing  tracts,  by  aiding  Bible  and 
Missionary  Societies,  and  by  endeavouring  to 
evangelize  our  own  dark  villages,  Christians, 
as  well  as  preachers,  shall  be  named  the 
"  Priests  of  the  Lord ;  and  men  shall  call 
them  the  ministers  of  our  God :"  when  the 
promise  made  to  the  church  shall  be  fulfilled, 
"They  that  be  of  thee  shall  build  the  old 
waste  places;  thou  shalt  raise  up  the  founda- 
tion of  many  generations ;  and  thou  shalt  be 
called  the  repairer  of  the  breach,  the  restorer 
of  paths  to  dwell  in." 

This  is  the  glory  of  our  day  :  and  let  not 
Christians  be  comparatively  undervalued  be- 
cause they  obey  the  obvious  will  of  Provi- 
dence, and  are  workers  together  with  God. 
The  period  so  long  prayed  for  is  arrived ;  and 
we  are  required  to  rise,  even  from  our  devo- 
tions, and  serve.  We  could  employ  the  hours 
in  songs  of  praise  ;  but  the  voice  cries  "  Work 
while  it  is  called  to-day  :"  and  you  shall  soon 
rest  from  your  labours,  and  join  those  who 
dwell  in  his  house  above,  and  arc  still  prais- 
ing him.  Christians  are  now  required  not  to 
sit  still  and  record  their  feelings,  but  to  en- 
deavour to  communicate  them.  They  must 
not  abide  by  the  stuff.  The  field  calls  them. 
The  harvest  is  come,  and  it  is  harvest  wea- 
ther, and  the  ears  ungathered  in,  will  soon 
full  and  perish.  "  Say  not  ye,  there  are  yet 
four  months,  and  then  cometh  harvest  1  be- 
hold, I  say  unto  you,  lift  up  your  eyes,  and 
look  on  the  fields ;  for  they  are  white  already 
to  harvest,  and  he  that  reapeth  receiveth 
wages,  and  gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal : 
that  both  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth 
may  rejoice  together."  WM.  JAY. 

Bath,  May  2d,  1818. 


11 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL: 

A  SERMON 

PREACHED  AT  TOTTENHAM-COURT  CHAPEL,  BEFORE  THE  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY; 
ON  THURSDAY  EVENING,  MAY  12,  1796. 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


Jlnd  let  the  -whole  earth  be  filled -with  his  glory  ; 
amen  and  amen.  The  prayers  of  David, 
the  son  of  Jesse,  are  ended. — Psalm  lxxii.  19, 
20. 

In  reviewing  the  Scriptures  at  large,  and 
the  book  of  Psalms  in  particular,  we  see  good 
men  exemplifying  different  views  and  disposi- 
tions, according  to  the  various  objects  which 
excited  and  engaged  their  attention. 

It  is  a  happy  frame  of  mind  which  converts 
every  event  and  every  contemplation  into 
prayer. — Such  was  the  happy  frame  of  David's 
mind  when  he  composed  this  psalm.  Survey- 
ing the  grandeur  of  Solomon's  reign,  he  per- 
ceives "  a  greater  than  Solomon,"  and  by  a 
beautiful  transition,  passes  to  the  reign  of 
"  Messiah  the  Prince,  whose  kingdom  is  an 
everlasting  kingdom,  and  whose  dominion 
endureth  from  generation  to  generation." 
After  a  striking  representation  of  the  proper- 
ties and  advantages  of  the  Saviour's  govern- 
ment, he  breaks  forth  in  these  sublime  and 
animated  strains. — "  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God 
of  Israel,  who  only  doeth  wondrous  things. 
And  blessed  be  his  glorious  name  for  ever : 
and  let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his 
glory  ;  amen  and  amen.  The  prayers  of  Da- 
vid the  son  of  Jesse  are  ended."  Behold  the 
grand  desire  which  actuated  this  man  of  God. 
He  prays  that  "  the  whole  earth  may  be  filled 
with  his  glory."  At  present  the  earth  is  void 
of  God's  glory.  To  a  gracious  mind  nothing 
is  more  painful  than  to  reflect  upon  the  mil- 
lions of  mankind  still  "  lying  in  wickedness" 
— "  having  no  hope  and  without  God  in  the 
%vorld." — Who  does  not  unite  in  this  request  1 
And  who  does  not  pray  that  "  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  may  be  revealed,"  and  "  that  all  flesh 
may  see  it  together." 

David  not  only  prays,  but  prays  with  fer- 
vency ;  and,  to  draw  your  attention  to  a 
point  with  which  I  would  animate  this  vast 


assembly — see  how  much  his  heart  was  set 
upon  this  object.  For,  having  expressed  his 
desire,  he  exclaims,  "  Amen  and  amen" — so 
be  it,  so  be  it.  Again  and  again  I  say  it,  and 
let  others  say  it  too — let  men,  let  angels  re- 
peat it — success  to  my  prayers,  and  success 
to  the  prayers  of  all  who  breathe  the  same 
wishes. — With  this  he  would  "  finish  his 
course."  "  The  prayers  of  David,  the  son  of 
Jesse,  are  ended."  This  was  the  last  psalm 
he  ever  composed.  He  wrote  it  on  his  dying 
bed.  The  last  words  of  dying  men,  espe- 
cially if  they  have  been  men  of  illustrious 
character,  have  peculiar  weight  in  them. — 
Let,  says  David,  resigning  his  spirit  into  the 
hands  of  God,  let  but  the  kingdom  of  Jesus 
Christ  be  established,  and  all  the  nations  and 
the  families  of  the  earth  be  blessed  in  him, 
and  I  have  enough,  I  desire  no  more ; — and 
"  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
according  to  thy  word." — "Even  so,  come 
Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly." 

Was  this  fervour  too  great  1  My  brethren, 
here  all  the  excellencies  of  prayer  are  com- 
bined. Here  devotion  is  wrought  up  to  its 
highest  perfection.  And  at  once  to  justify 
David's  zeal,  and  to  excite  your  admiration 
of  it — to  lead  you  to  adopt  this  prayer,  and  to 
adopt  it  with  the  glowing  emotions  of  "  the 
man  after  God's  own  heart,"  let  us  examine 
five  things. 

1.  What  can  be  more  important  and  inter- 
esting than  the  matter  of  this  prayer  1 — It  is 
the  diffusion  of  the  Divine  glory.  The  word 
glory,  when  applied  to  God,  denotes  that 
manifestation  of  himself  by  which  his  rational 
creatures  are  capable  of  knowing  him,  for  in 
himself  he  is  incomprehensible,  "  dwelling  in 
the  light  which  no  man  can  approach  unto ; 
whom  no  man  hatli  seen  or  can  see."  This 
manifestation  appears  in  various  degrees. 

His  glory  shines  in  the  works  of  nature, 
158 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


159 


and  behold  a  universe  starting  into  existence 
to  teach  us  "  his  eternal  power  and  godhead." 
David  was  no  unaffected  spectator  of  the 
wonders  of  creation  :  "  O  Lord,  our  Lord,  how 
excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the  earth.  I 
consider  the  heavens,  the  work  of  thy  fingers, 
the  moon  and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  or- 
dained." "The  heavens  declare  the  glory 
of  God ;  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handy- 
work.  Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech,  and 
night  unto  night  showeth  knowledge.  There 
is  no  speech  nor  language,  where  their  voice  is 
not  heard.  Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the 
earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

A  watchful  eye  will  perceive  the  glory  of 
God  shining  through  the  dispensations  of  his 
providence, — in  preserving  the  world  which 
he  has  made — in  supplying  the  wants  of  his 
creatures — in  maintaining  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  seasons — in  establishing  such  regulations 
in  society  as,  notwithstanding  the  violence 
of  men's  passions,  and  oppositions  of  their  in- 
terests, enable  us  to  live  upon  earth  in  toler- 
able peace  and  safety,  enjoying  a  thousand 
comforts — in  administering  encouragements, 
supports,  and  rewards  to  the  righteous — in 
restraining,  disappointing,  and  punishing  the 
wicked,  especially  when  they  become  dan- 
gerous to  community — in  the  connexion  which 
is  found  to  exist  between  moral  and  natural 
evil — in  the  pleasure  which  always  attends 
the  exercise  of  virtue,  and  the  pain  which 
always  accompanies  the  practice  of  vice.  In- 
deed, in  the  moral  government  of  mankind, 
besides  the  general  evidences  of  his  wisdom, 
power,  and  goodness,  we  behold  some  traces 
of  his  righteous  character,  as  the  "judge 
of  the  whole  earth." 

"  He  has  magnified  his  word  above  all  his 
name,"  and  he  peculiarly  discovers  himself 
in  the  gospel,  which  we  emphatically,  and  by 
way  of  distinction,  call  revelation.  All  other 
displays  of  God  are  defective.  They  are  par- 
tial, uninfluential,  unintelligible,  abstracted 
from  the  Scriptures.  They  are  partial — 
they  hold  forth  the  divine  perfections  sepa- 
rately ;  they  teach  us  nothing  of  their  har- 
mony, extent,  and  limitations.  So  that,  ad- 
mitting we  could  prove  that  God  was  just  and 
merciful,  we  could  not  determine  where  the 
exercise  of  justice  would  stop,  and  the  opera- 
tion of  mercy  would  begin.  They  are  unin- 
fluential. That  they  were  never  the  means 
of  bringing  men  to  repentance  and  holiness, 
appears  from  an  observation  of  the  heathen 
world.  Even  their  wise  men,  "  when  they 
knew  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as  God, 
neither  were  thankful;  but  became  vain  in 
their  imaginations,  and  their  foolish  heart 
was  darkened.  Professing  themselves  to  be 
wise,  they  became  fools,  and  changed  the 
glory  of  the  incorruptible  God  into  an  image 
made  like  to  corruptible  man,  and  to  birds, 
and  fourfooted  beasts,  and  creeping  things. 
Wherefore  God  also  gave  them  up  to  un- 


cleanness  through  the  lusts  of  their  own 
hearts,  to  dishonour  their  own  bodies  between 
themselves :  who  changed  the  truth  of  God 
into  a  lie,  and  worshipped  and  served  the  crea- 
ture more  than  the  Creator,  who  is  blessed 
for  ever."  And  what  are  our  modern  philo- 
sophers, who  have  rejected  the  Christian  sys- 
tem to  adore  the  idol  of  reason,  and  worship 
the  goddess  of  nature  1  They  are  unintelli- 
gible. Creation  is  a  book,  and  its  various 
works  constitute  the  alphabet,  but  what  con- 
nects the  letters,  and  teaches  us  to  read. 
Without  the  Bible,  it  is  utterly  impossible  to 
give  a  probable  account  of  the  origin  of  the 
world,  or  the  appearances  of  nature ;  of  the 
events  that  have  already  taken  place,  or  of 
those  which  are  every  day  presenting  them- 
selves to  our  view.  "  But  when,"  to  use  the 
language  of  an  author  whose  name  I  should 
mention,  were  I  not  forbidden  by  his  presence, 
"  when  reason  kindles  her  feeble  lamp  with 
fire  from  God's  altar,  and  supplies  it  continu- 
ally with  fresh  oil  from  the  sacred  stores ; 
what  was  dark  becomes  clear,  what  was  per- 
plexed becomes  regular,  and  the  dim  and 
scattered  fragments  become  legible  and  intel- 
ligible." And  though  we  may  in  some  mea- 
sure discern  what  God  is,  by  observing  what 
he  does,  his  glory  is  obscured  by  numberless 
difficulties;  "  righteousness  and  judgment  are 
the  habitation  of  his  throne ;"  but  "  cloud  and 
darkness  are  round  about  him."  "  His  way 
is  in  the  sea,  and  his  path  in  the  deep  waters, 
and  his  footsteps  are  not  known."  I  love  to 
assert  the  importance  of  the  gospel,  especially 
at  a  time  when  "  science,  falsely  so  called," 
would  depreciate  its  value,  and  more  than 
question  its  necessity.  The  gospel  exhibits 
God  in  all  his  excellencies.  The  entrance 
of  sin  is  a  dark  ground,  on  which  God  is  dis- 
played to  advantage ;  it  has  given  occasion  for 
the  exercise  of  the  divine  perfections  in  a  man- 
ner which  will  eternally  astonish  the  universe. 

In  the  law  given  at  Sinai,  and  "  written  in 
tables  of  stone,"  we  behold  awful  rays  of  the 
glory  of  God;  but  here  we  see  that  "law 
magnified  and  made  honourable."  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  law  of  God  alive,  the  ten  com- 
mandments incarnate. 

In  Jesus  Christ  we  have  a  personal  repre- 
sentation of  Deity.  Would  you  know  what 
God  is  ]  Behold  "  the  brightness  of  his  glory, 
and  the  express  image  of  his  person."  It 
pleased  him  to  assume  human  nature,  and, 
softening  down  the  effulgence  of  divinity  by 
the  veil  of  flesh,  to  appear  in  our  world.  Men 
are  called  to  "  behold  a  new  thing  in  the 
earth" — a  mind  inhabiting  a  fleshly  taberna- 
cle like  our  own,  unpolluted  with  any  earthly 
defilement,  unseduced  by  theobjectsof  sense, 
unmoved  by  satanic  influence,  adorned  with 
the  most  lovely  graces — all  calmness  and 
gentleness — full  of  pity  to  the  miserable — all 
occupied  in  doing  good — unprovoked  by  inju- 
ries, unsubdued  by  sufferings.    Ah,  the  infa- 


160 


filAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


tuation  of  the  world !  They  might  have  seen 
that  "God  was  in  very  deed  come  down  to 
dwell  with  men  upon  the  earth."  I  do  not 
wonder  that  Jesus  Christ  should  say,  "  He 
that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father."  I 
do  not  wonder  that  the  apostle  should  say, 
"  God  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out 
of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  And  here  it  is 
that  his  glory  shines  forth  with  a  lustre  not 
only  grand,  but  encouraging  and  inviting. 
How  it  dissolves  my  doubts,  how  it  dissipates 
my  fears,  how  it  attracts  me  to  "  his  throne 
for  mercy  and  grace  to  help  in  every  time  of 
need."  God  in  nature,  is  God  above  me ;  God 
in  providence,  is  God  beyond  me ;  God  in  law, 
is  God  against  me ;  but  God  in  Christ,  is  God 
with  me  and  for  me. 

In  the  plan  of  salvation  by  a  crucified  Sa- 
viour, not  only  men,  but  angels  obtain  the  most 
glorious  idea  of  Jehovah.  We  never  read  of 
their  being  naturalists  or  astronomers,  but 
they  are  Christian  students ;  they  mingle  with 
us  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  "  desiring  to  look 
into  these  things :"  for  here  all  the  divine  per- 
fections come  forward  and  assert  their  claims, 
and  here  they  are  all  satisfied  and  honoured. 
Man's  redemption  is  God's  glory.  Hence  the 
exclamation  of  the  prophet,  "  Sing,  O  ye 
heavens,  for  the  Lord  hath  done  it ;  shout,  ye 
lower  parts  of  the  earth;  break  forth  into 
singing,  ye  mountains :  O  forests  and  every 
tree  therein :  for  the  Lord  hath  redeemed  Jacob, 
and  glorified  himself  in  Israel."  Hence  the 
song  of  the  "  heavenly  hosts  praising  God," 
and  saying,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
and  on  earth  peace,  goodwill  towards  men." 

The  gospel  displays  the  glory  of  God  in 
"  renewing  us  after  his  image  in  righteous- 
ness and  true  holiness."  I  remember  the 
words  of  our  Saviour  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus, 
"  Martha,  said  I  not  unto  thee,  that  if  thou 
wouldest  believe,  thou  shouldest  surely  see 
the  glory  of  God  V  Did  the  glory  of  God  ap- 
pear in  the  re-animation  of  a  breathless  body  J 
And  shall  it  not  much  more  appear  in  the 
resurrection  of  a  soul  "  dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins!"  Upon  this  principle  God  promises  to 
place  salvation  in  Zion  for  Israel  his  glory." 

I  would  not  hastily  pass  over  this  part  of 
our  subject.    Man  was  originally  created  in 
the  likeness  of  God;  but  he  lost  it  by  sin. 
The  law  still  requires  this  resemblance,  but 
it  is  the  gospel  that  effects  it."    "  If  any 
man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature."  i 
"Beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  1 
Lord,  we  are  changed  into  the  same  image  I 
from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the  spirit  of  I 
the  Lord."  Every  thing  in  the  gospel  reflects  | 
power  upon  God.    Its  doctrines,  its  precepts,  i 
its  threatenings,  its  promises,  are  all  worthy  i 
of  God;   but  they  are   its  effects,  which  1 
most  clearly  decide  its  superiority  over  every  1 
other  system.    Plato,  with  all  his  diligence,  I 


i  and  with  all  the  celebrity  his  philosophy  ac- 
)  quired  him,  was  unable  to  bring  out  the  in- 
t  habitants  of  one  city,  or  one  village  to  walk 
!  by  his  rules.    The  law  only  describes  duty, 
[  and  enforces  obligation,  by  proposing  rewards 
,  and  punishments.    But,  "the  spirit  of  life  in 
;  Christ  Jesus,"  makes  us  "free  from  the  law 
i  of  sin  and  death."  "  The  gospel  is  the  power 
!  of  God,  to  salvation  to  every  one  that  believ- 
;  eth."    By  an  admirable  method  God  puts  his 
word  into  the  heart.     The  apostle  James 
speaks  of  it  under  a  very  familiar  allusion. 
You  all  know  the  process  of  grafting  a  tree. 
The  scion  inserted,  receives  the  juices,  and 
changes  them  into  its  own  quality,  and  causes 
the  stock  to  bring  forth  new  fruit — such  is 
"  the  engrafted  word  which  is  able  to  save 
the  soul."    It  produces  an  internal  assimila- 
tion, evidenced  by  the  "  fruit  of  the  spirit;  love, 
joy,  peace,  longsuffering,  gentleness,  good- 
ness, faith,  meekness,  temperance."  This 
changes  the  nature,  and  fills  the  understand- 
ing with  right  sentiments,  and  the  heart  with 
right  dispositions.    This,  by  its  all-powerful 
energy,  subduesdeeprooted  prejudices,  sensual 
passions,  worldly  interests.    This,  by  its  all- 
cheering  consolation,  rescues  the  mind  from 
despair,  and  makes  us  "joyful  in  tribulation," 
and  triumphant  in  the  hour  of  death.    I  ap- 
peal to  fact.    In  the  first  ages  of  the  church, 
did  not  the  gospel  make  men  wise,  and  holy, 
and  happy,  and  useful  ?  Did  it  not  "  teach 
them  to  deny  all  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts,  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly 
in  this  present  world ;  looking  for  that  bless- 
ed hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of  the 
great  God,  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 
And  does  it  not  to  this  day  produce  the  same 
effects  when  it  is  faithfully  preached  ?  The 
world  cannot  be  ignorant  of  this,  nor  can  the 
promoters  of  erroneous  systems,  amidst  the 
unprofitableness  of  their  ministry,  be  unac- 
quainted with  it.    Blessed  be  God,  we  fre- 
quently see  the  drunkard  becoming  sober,  the 
swearer  learning  to  "  fear  an  oath,"  the  covet- 
ous expanding  with  liberality.  Yes,  there  are 
living  examples  of  persons  who  were  once  a 
terror  to  themselves,  a  curse  to  their  families, 
a  judgment  to  their  neighbours,  delivered  by 
the  preaching  of  the  cross,  from  the  anguish 
of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  the  tyranny  of 
vicious  passions ;  becoming  peaceable,  gentle, 
"  easy  to  be  entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good 
fruits."    "The  wolf  also  dwells  with  the 
lamb,  and  the  leopard  lieth  down  with  the  kid ; 
and  the  calf  and  the  young  lion  and  the  fat- 
ling  together:  and  a  little  child  shall  lead 
them."    However  unbelievers  may  suspect 
the  truth  of  the  gospel,  it  would  seem  im- 
possible for  them  to  deny  its  utility.  They 
may  call  it  a  fable,  but  this  fable  has  been 
more  efficacious  in  reforming  the  world,  than 
the  most  serious  truths  of  philosophers,  and 
the  most  severe  laws  of  magistrates.  What 
they  despise  as  a  human  invention,  was  more 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


161 


beneficial  to  mankind  in  a  few  years,  than  all 
other  boasted  schemes  through  a  succession 
of  ages.  No  other  collection  of  doctrine  aims 
so  high  as  the  Christian  dispensation.  It  af- 
fects nothing  less,  than  to  turn  fallen  men 
into  angels,  and  to  form  societies  below,  like 
the  "general  assembly  of  just  men  made 
perfect  in  heaven."  Chasing  away  error, 
vice,  enmity,  discord,  and  all  the  malignity 
with  which  sin  has  filled  the  earth;  it  dif- 
fuses light,  love,  and  harmony,  and  unites 
men  first  to  God,  and  then  to  each  other  in 
one  divine  and  heavenly  fraternity.  Imagine 
for  a  moment  the  gospel  universally  diffused, 
and  mankind  at  large  living  under  its  benign 
influence,  what  a  lovely  scene  would  this 
distracted  earth  exhibit,  compared  with 
present  prospects  1 — "Nations  learning  war 
no  more" — "swords  beaten  into  plough- 
shares, and  spears  into  pruning  hooks" — "de- 
structions come  to  a  perpetual  end" — "  men 
living  as  brethren,"  and  "  loving  one  another 
out  of  a  pure  heart  fervently."  The  prophets, 
delighted  with  the  glorious  change  which 
they  foresaw  as  the  consequence  of  the  gospel 
dispensation,  have  ascribed  it  in  all  the  glow- 
ing style  of  eastern  imagery.  Sometimes 
they  take  the  comparison  from  the  human 
body,  and  behold,  says  Isaiah,  a  multitude  of 
misery;  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  lame,  the 
dumb :  but,  "  then  the  eyes  of  the  blind  shall 
be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be 
unstopped — then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as 
an  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall 
sing."  Sometimes  they  take  the  image  from 
the  natural  world,  and  behold,  says  the  same 
prophet,  "  a  parched  desert,  where  no  water  is, 
where  the  thirsty  traveller  pants  and  dies, 
where  cattle  cannot  live,  where  grass  cannot 
flourish ;  behold,  on  a  sudden,  the  appearance 
reversed,  waters  springing  out  of  the  hills ; 
and  murmuring  along  the  vallies,  the  fields 
standing  thick  with  corn,  sheep  covering  the 
plains,  and  trees  crowning  the  tops  of  the 
mountains."  "  The  wilderness  and  the  soli- 
tary place  shall  be  glad  for  them ;  and  the 
desert  shall  rejoice,  and  blossom  as  the  rose. 
It  shall  blossom  abundantly,  and  rejoice,  even 
with  joy  and  singing :  the  glory  of  Lebanon 
shall  be  given  unto  it,  the  excellency  of  Car- 
mel  and  Sharon,  they  shall  see  the  glory  of 
the  Lord,  and  the  excellency  of  pur  God." 

II.  The  prayer  appears  still  more  excel- 
lent, if  we  consider  the  principle  from  which 
it  proceeds.  It  is  piety  and  benevolence; 
these  are  not  two  dispositions,  but  two  refer- 
ences of  the  same  disposition.  We  cannot 
separate  what  the  Scripture  has  joined  toge- 
ther ;  and  if  a  man  say,  "  I  love  God  and  hateth 
his  brother,  he  is  a  liar  ;  for  he  that  loveth  not 
his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he 
love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  1" 

The  prayer  comes  from  a  soul  penetrated 
with  a  love  to  God,  and  alive  to  his  interest 
in  the  world.  This  concern  divine  grace  al- 
X  14* 


ways  produces  in  the  breasts  of  the  godly. 
A  Christian  loves  "  God  with  all  his  heart,  with 
all  his  mind,  and  with  all  his  strength." 
Reason  requires  this  supreme  affection.  We 
ought  to  regard  objects  in  proportion  to  their 
real  worth,  and  God  is  the  perfection,  the 
source  of  all  excellency.  We  ought  to  love 
without  bounds  an  object  infinitely  lovely. 
And  what  is  the  language  of  all  the  mercies 
we  have  received  from  God — blessings  of 
birth,  of  infancy,  of  youth,  of  mature  age — 
blessings  pertaining  to  this  life:  "spiritual 
blessings,"  "  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctifi- 
cation,  redemption" — where  shall  I  end? — 
All  these  surround  us,  and  with  one  voice  cry, 
"  O  love  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  saints."  By  the 
mercies  of  God  present  your  body  a  living 
sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable  to  God,  which 
is  your  reasonable  service."  He,  at  an  ex- 
pense which  angels  cannot  compute,  has 
served  you — be  all  devotion  in  serving  Him. 
"  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  ye 
do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God."  The  Chris- 
tian feels  his  obligations — he  lives  to  God. 
He  cannot  be  indifferent  to  his  honour.  See 
that  man — "  his  eyes  run  down  with  tears." 
Has* he  lost  his  fortune!  Has  he  heard  God 
saying,  "Son  of  man,  behold  I  take  from 
thee  the  desire  of  thine  eyes  with  a  stroke." 
No  :  he  has  heard  a  swearer ;  he  has  seen  a 
Sabbath-breaker. — "  His  eyes  run  down  with 
tears  because  men  seek  not  God's  law."  Elijah 
is  praying  to  die.  What  disappointments 
have  embittered  his  life  ?  "  Lord  they  have 
broken  thy  covenant  and  digged  down  thine 
altars,  and  killed  thy  prophets,"  and  I  cannot 
survive  thine  expiring  cause.  Behold  the 
venerable  Eli  upon  a  seat  by  the  wayside, 
watching,  while  the  messenger  brings  him 
heavy  tidings.  And  first,  he  tells  him  of  the 
defeat  of  his  countrymen  by  the  Philistines, 
"  Israel  is  fled."  Mournful  intelligence.  Next 
he  tells  him  that  his  "  two  sons,  Hophrii  and 
Phineas,  are  slain" — more  awful  still.  But 
"  his  heart  trembles  for  the  ark  of  God,"  and 
when  he  hears  that  the  ark  of  God  is  taken, 
he  drops  and  dies.  The  charge  of  enthusiasm 
has  been  frequently  brought  against  Chris- 
tians, for  want  of  distinguishing  properly  be- 
tween the  abuse  of  truth  in  certain  instances, 
and  its  genuine  influence  and  effects.  It  is 
impossible  for  us  to  believe  the  Gospel  as  we 
ought,  without  being  zealous  for  the  Lord  of 
Hosts;  and  zeal  for  God  is  charity  towards 
men. 

The  prayer  before  us  springs  from  benevo- 
lence. To  pray  for  ourselves  is  a  duty — a 
duty,  too,  which  perhaps  some  of  you  never 
performed :  of  some  of  you,  perhaps,  God 
never  said,  "  Behold  he  prayeth."  But  it  re- 
quires no  great  degree  of  virtue  to  be  desir- 
ous of  our  own  welfare.  To  be  solicitous  for 
the  good  of  others,  argues  disinterested  affec- 
tion. That  this  is  highly  pleasing  to  God, 
appears  not  only  from  his  enjoining  us  to  re- 


162 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


member  others  at  his  throne,  but  from  the 
peculiar  reward  with  which  he  honoured  the 
exercise  in  the  experience  of  Job.  Job  was 
a  man  of  sorrows — trials  drive  us  to  prayer. 
This  afflicted  saint  had,  no  doubt,  under  his 
calamities,  frequently  made  supplication  unto 
God :  but  the  prayer  which  achieved  his  de- 
liverance was  not  a  prayer  for  himself.  "  The 
Lord  turned  the  captivity  of  Job,  when  he 
prayed  for  his  friends."  That  we  do  not  love 
our  neighbours  as  ourselves,  appears  from  the 
disproportionate  share  we  devote  to  our  own 
interest  in  our  petitions.  There  is  a  visible 
want  of  warmth  in  spreading  the  cases  of 
others  before  the  Lord.  In  the  formality  of 
worship,  the  condition  of  the  heathen  has 
been  generally  mentioned  ;  but  not  with  that 
feeling  becoming  the  solemn  thought  that 
multitudes  are  "  perishing  for  lack  of  know- 
ledge." The  person  who  confines  all  his  at- 
tention to  himself,  deserves  not  the  name  of 
a  man ;  by  what  means  he  persuades  himself 
that  he  is  a  Christian,  it  is  difficult  to  con- 
ceive. The  Christian  religion  is  founded  in 
the  compassions  of  God,  and  it  must  fill  us 
with  compassion.  It  must  destroy  the  selfish- 
ness common  to  our  depraved  nature.  It  must 
produce  a  unity  of  interest  with  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  teach  us  to  "  look  not  every 
man  on  his  own  things,  but  every  man  also 
on  the  things  of  others."  What  a  lovely, 
what  a  noble  disposition  does  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  require  and  produce !  Does  the 
Christian  weep  1  It  is  not  only  for  the  sins 
which  he  commits,  and  the  troubles  he  en- 
dures. Does  he  rejoice !  It  is  in  another's 
prosperity  as  well  as  in  his  own.  Does  he 
prayl  See  how  he  expands  beyond  himself 
— "  Brethren,  my  heart's  desire  and  prayer 
to  God  for  Israel  is,  that  they  might  be 
saved."  "For  I  could  wish  that  myself  were 
accursed  from  Christ  for  my  brethren,  my 
kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh."  For  Zion's 
sake  "  will  I  not  hold  my  peace ;  and  for  Je- 
rusalem's sake  I  will  not  rest  until  the  right- 
eousness thereof  go  forth  as  brightness,  and 
the  salvation  thereof  as  a  lamp  that  burnetii." 
"  Yet  now  if  thou  wilt  forgive  their  sin — 
and  if  not,  blot  me,  I  pray  thee,  out  of  thy 
book  which  thou  hast  written." 

III.  Consider  the  universal  extent  of  this 
request.  Little  minds  confine  their  zeal 
within  a  contracted  circle,  which  excludes 
all  but  the  adherents  of  their  own  class.  For 
a  party  they  labour,  and  in  the  success  of  a 
party  they  rejoice.  If  they  pray  for  rain,  it 
is  only  to  refresh  and  fructify  their  own  gar- 
dens. They  are  strangers  to  the  sublime  and 
diffusive  spirit  of  the  gospel.  Wretched 
bigotry — allow  me  a  figure  of  speech — allow 
me  to  suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  Being  in 
existence  whose  death  we  have  attended,  and 
whose  epitaph  we  have  sung — wretched 
bigotry,  what  is  thy  language]  Let  the  es- 
tablished Church  prosper — let  the  Dissenting 


interest  prevail — let  the  Independents  mul- 
tiply— let  the  Baptists  swell  their  annual  lists 
with  numbers — let  the  Methodists  spread  on 
every  side — let  Tottenham-court  chapel  be 
"filled  with  his  glory."  But  give  me  the 
language  of  the  text — "  And  let  the  whole 
earth  be  filled  with  his  glory.  Amen  and 
Amen."  I  love  to  see  an  expansion  of  soul, 
which,  free  from  the  shackles  of  party  rage, 
includes  all  like  the  goodness  of  God. 

I  pass  from  religious  denominations  to 
countries. — It  does  not  satisfy  us  to  say,  let 
England  "  be  filled  with  his  glory."  It  has 
frequently  been  charged  upon  the  Scripture 
as  a  defect,  that  it  does  not  sufficiently  incul- 
cate patriotism,  or  a  love  to  a  particular  coun- 
try; a  virtue  celebrated  among  all  nations 
of  the  globe;  a  virtue  which  so  long  secured 
Greece,  and  so  highly  exalted  Rome;  a  vir- 
tue practised  in  former  times,  and  professed 
in  our  own ;  a  virtue  of  which  we  have  no- 
thing left  "but  loaves  and  fishes." — The 
charge  is  partly  false  and  partly  true,  and  as 
far  as  it  is  true  it  will  be  found  not  a  reproach, 
but  an  honour  to  the  gospel.  If  we  look 
into  the  Old  Testament,  we  shall  find  this 
sacred  injunction :  "  Pray  for  the  peace  of  Je- 
rusalem, they  shall  prosper  that  love  thee." 
Never  was  love  more  sincere  and  ardent  than 
that  which  the  Jews  exercised  towards  their 
native  land.  Jerusalem  was  the  centre  of 
their  happiness,  the  seat  of  all  the  endear- 
ments of  life.  To  adorn  it  they  esteemed 
nothing  too  costly ;  to  defend  it  they  cheer- 
fully shed  their  blood.  Its  prosperity  satis- 
fied them,  its  welfare  made  them  forget  their 
sorrows.  When  they  saw  it  destroyed  by 
the  hands  of  the  Babylonians,  they  abandoned 
themselves  to  grief  and  found  life  a  burden ; 
"  they  hung  their  harps  upon  the  willows," 
"  the  voice  of  mirth  was  heard  no  more,  and 
all  the  daughters  of  music  were  brought  low." 
But  even  in  its  reduced  state  they  retained 
the  same  affection,  prizing  its  ruins  above 
the  superb  palaces  of  Babylon ;  they  "  took 
pleasure  in  her  stones,  and  favoured  the  dust 
thereof,"  each  saying,  "  If  I  forget  thee,  O  Je- 
rusalem, let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cun- 
ning. If  I  do  not  remember  thee,  let  my 
tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth ;  if  I 
prefer  not  Jerusalem  above  my  chief  joy." 
And  where  does  the  New  Testament  en- 
force the  wild  idea  that  the  whole  world  is 
to  be  our  country,  and  mankind  our  fellow- 
citizens]  Jesus  Christ  was  a  patriot  ;  he 
loved  his  country,  notwithstanding  the  ingra- 
titude and  cruelty  of  his  countrymen.  He 
first  wrent  "  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of 
Israel."  As  he  drew  near  the  devoted  me- 
tropolis, "he  wept  over  it."  He  commanded 
his  apostles  "  to  preach  repentance  and  re- 
mission of  sins  to  all  nations,  beginning  at 
Jerusalem."  The  gospel  does  not  destroy 
the  useful  feelings  of  nature,  but  corrects 
and  sanctifies  them;  it  inspires  us  with 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


163 


sentiments  becoming  our  condition,  and  ne- 
ver forgets  that  we  are  creatures  of  limit- 
ed faculties.  But  after  all  what  is  patriot- 
ism ?  Is  it  such  a  partial  attachment  to  a 
particular  country  as  leads  us  to  disregard 
the  liberty  and  happiness  of  every  other 
nation  !  Is  it  such  an  exclusive  attachment 
as  would  lead  us  to  oppress  every  other  coun- 
try, for  the  sake  of  our  own,  and  destroy 
thousands  who  would  not  acquiesce  in  our 
opinion  of  avarice  and  ambition  ! — What  was 
a  Roman  ?  A  proud,  unfeeling  tyrant,  who 
placed  right  in  power,  who  triumphed  re- 
morselessly over  undefended  weakness,  who 
gloried  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  cities 
and  provinces  he  had  taken  or  destroyed. — 
What  was  the  patriotism  of  a  Roman  ]  A 
false  virtue,  the  destruction  of  all  justice 
and  benevolence — and  this  false  virtue  has 
always  been  admired  because  it  conceals 
self-interest  under  the  mask  of  public  spirit, 
and  gives  license  to  inflict  injuries  not  only 
with  impunity  but  with  applause.  It  is  the 
glory  of  the  gospel  to  say  nothing  of  such 
patriotism.  It  is  the  glory  of  the  gospel  to 
set  us  above  the  prejudices  which  have  so 
long  and  so  unhappily  kept  men  at  variance 
— and  to  teach  us  that  God  has  made  of  one 
blood  all  the  nations  of  the  earth — that  men 
are  not  our  enemies  because  they  live  at  the 
other  side  of  a  channel,  or  a  mountain — that 
they  are  not  to  be  bought  and  sold  as  slaves 
because  the  sun  has  jetted  their  complexions 
— that  we  are  "debtors  to  Jews  and  Greeks" — 
and  that  "as  we  have  opportunity"  without 
any  exceptions  "  we  are  to  do  good  unto  all 
men."  Christianity  commands  us  to  love  all 
the  human  race,  and  to  regard  as  our  neigh- 
bours the  inhabitants  of  the  remotest  regions, 
when  their  distresses  require  our  aid,  and  it 
is  in  "the  power  of  our  hand  to  give  it." 

IV.  We  observe  the  divine  resemblance 
of  this  prayer — God  feels  the  same  desire, 
and  has  the  same  object  in  view — we  are 
acting  according  to  his  pleasure,  "  we  are 
workers  together  with  him."  This  appears 
from  the  precepts  he  has  given,  and  the  pro- 
mises which  he  has  made. 

God's  authority  is  interposed,  and  there  are 
two  injunctions  in  particular  which  deserve 
more  attention  than  we  have  hitherto  given 
them.  Our  duty  appears  from  the  words  of 
the  apostle  to  the  Thessalonians,  "brethren 
pray  for  us  that  the  word  of  the  Lord  may 
have  free  course  and  be  glorified."  The  al- 
lusion is  beautiful,  whether  it  respects  a  con- 
quering army  bearing  down  all  opposition, 
marching  from  victory  to  victory ;  or  an  un- 
obstructed river  fertilizing  its  banks,  spread- 
ing plenty  over  the  country  through  which  it 
passes,  and  augmenting  as  it  rolls  along  till  it 
becomes  an  ocean.  Hear  the  language  of 
God  by  the  prophet,  "  I  have  set  watchmen 
upon  thy  walls,  O  Jerusalem,  which  shall 
never  hold  their  peace  day  nor  night:  ye 


that  make  mention  of  the  Lord,  keep  not  si- 
lence, and  give  him  no  rest,  till  he  establish 
and  till  he  make  Jerusalem  a  praise  in  the 
earth."  WThat  importunity  is  here  expressed ! 

The  promises  respecting  this  subject  are 
"exceeding  great  and  precious."  I  would 
repeat  a  few  of  them.  "  And  it  shall  come 
to  pass  in  the  last  days  that  the  mountain  of 
the  Lord's  house  shall  be  established  in  the 
top  of  the  mountains,  and  shall  be  exalted 
above  the  hills;  and  all  nations  shall  flow 
unto  it."  "  And  it  shall  be  in  that  day  that 
living  waters  shall  go  out  from  Jerusalem ; 
half  of  them  toward  the  former  sea,  and  half 
of  them  toward  the  hinder  sea,  in  summer 
and  in  winter  shall  it  be,  and  the  Lord  shall 
be  king  over  all  the  earth :  in  that  day  shall 
there  be  one  Lord,  and  his  name  shall  be 
one."  "For  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  Lord  as  the  waters  cover 
the  sea."  I  might  enlarge  quotation,  but  it 
will  be  of  more  importance  to  remove  an 
objection  taken  from  the  supposition  that 
those  prospects  have  been  already  realized. 
This,  if  admitted,  would  damp  our  zeal,  and 
weaken  our  hands.  We  contend,  therefore, 
that  nothing  has  taken  place  in  any  past  ex- 
perience of  the  church,  whether  Jewish  or 
Christian,  to  substantiate  those  pleasing  de- 
scriptions; that  there  has  been  nothing  in 
the  conduct  of  God  to  this  day  sufficient 
in  extent,  in  duration,  in  glory,  to  imbody 
the  hopes  which  his  word  has  excited. 
When  have  these  promises  been  accom- 
plished .' — In  vain  we  look  into  the  Jew- 
ish nation  for  a  fulfilment.  Much  of  their 
prosperity  was  diminished  before  many  of 
these  prophecies  were  given — they  were  in 
a  distracted  and  suffering  state  under  the 
reign  of  the  kings  of  Judah  and  Israel — their 
city  and  temple  were  destroyed  by  the  Chal- 
deans— though  they  returned  from  captivity, 
and  rebuilded  the  city  and  temple,  they  con- 
tinued a  dependent  people,  and  were  tributa- 
ries to  the  Persian,  Macedonian,  and  Roman 
power.  Rejecting  the  Messiah,  and  impre- 
cating his  blood  upon  themselves  and  their 
children,  they  were  "destroyed  with  a  very 
sore  destruction,"  and  to  this  hour  they  re- 
main "  scattered  and  peeled,"  unable  by  their 
situation  and  circumstances,  to  perform  the 
ceremonies  of  their  own  ritual. 

In  vain  we  look  into  the  Christian  church 
for  a  fulfilment.  Since  the  apostle's  days  the 
boundaries  of  Zion  have  been  altered,  but 
never  enlarged.  Is  not  the  greatest  part  of 
the  earth  to  this  day  unacquainted  with  the 
name  of  God  our  Saviour  ?  What  is  Christen- 
dom itself  compared  with  the  globe  1  A  con- 
siderable part  of  Europe,  almost  the  whole  of 
the  other  three  continents,  with  the  numer- 
ous isles  in  the  eastern  and  southern  oceans, 
are  covered  with  "gross  darkness."  It  is 
thus  that  all  men  shall  be  blessed  in  him, 
"  all  nations  shall  call  him  blessed !"    It  is 


164  PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


thus  that  "  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  even  to 
the  going  down  of  the  same,  his  name  shall 
be  great  among  the  Gentiles,  and  in  every 
place  incense  shall  be  offered  to  him  and  a 
pure  offering."  The  extent  of  God's  cause, 
therefore,  has  never  been  adequate  to  pre- 
diction.— And  what  has  been  the  duration 
of  its  peace  and  prosperity  1  Sometimes 
the  influences  of  divine  grace  attending 
the  preaching  of  the  word  have  been  re- 
markable. The  church  of  Christ  has  had 
blessed  revivals,  but  they  have  never  been 
of  long  continuance. — "  The  people  of  thy 
holiness  have  possessed  it  but  a  little  while : 
our  adversaries  have  trodden  down  thy  sanc- 
tuary." But  faith  assures  us  that  "  there 
shall  be  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the 
moon  endureth :"  "  that  Zion  shall  be  an 
eternal  excellency,  the  joy  of  many  genera- 
tions." "  Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down ; 
neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw  itself:  for 
the  Lord  shall  be  thine  everlasting  light,  and 
the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended." 

A  glory  is  spoken  of  which  has  never 
been  realized.  "  For  brass  I  will  bring  gold, 
and  for  iron  I  will  bring  silver,  and  for  wood 
brass,  and  for  stones  iron :  I  will  also  make 
thy  officers  peace,  and  thine  exactors  right- 
eousness. Violence  shall  no  more  be  heard 
in  thy  land,  wasting  nor  destruction  within 
thy  borders ;  but  thou  shalt  call  thy  walls 
Salvation,  and  thy  gates  Praise.  The  sun 
shall  be  no  more  thy  light  by  day :  neither 
for  brightness  shall  the  moon  give  light  unto 
thee  :  but  the  Lord  shall  be  unto  thee  an  ever- 
lasting light,  and  thy  God  thy  glory.  Thy  sun 
shall  no  more  go  down;  neither  shall  thy 
moon  withdraw  itself :  for  the  Lord  shall  be 
thine  everlasting  light,  and  the  days  of  thy 
mourning  shall  be  ended.  Thy  people  also 
shall  be  all  righteous."  The  more  minutely 
we  examine  prophecy,  the  stronger  is  the  con- 
firmation of  our  hope,  that  a  day  will  come 
"  when  wars  shall  cease  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth ;"  when  the  animosities  which  have  so 
long  prevailed  amongst  Christians  shall  sub- 
side; when  idolatry  and  superstition  shall 
vanish ;  when  truth  and  holiness  and  the 
pure  worship  of  God  shall  abound. — We  are 
authorized  to  expect  that  a  period  will  come, 
when  not  only  individuals  in  different  nations 
of  men  shall  be  devoted  to  Christ,  but  also  po- 
tentates of  every  state,  whose  example  is  in- 
fluential, and  whose  authority  gives  them  a 
peculiar  advantage,  shall  own  their  subordi- 
nation to  him  and  make  their  dominion  sub- 
servient to  his.  Considering  themselves  in 
their  different  departments  as  delegated  to 
rule  by  him,  they  will  rule  for  him.  View- 
ing themselves  as  subjects  of  his  sovereign 
sway,  "  all  kings  shall  fall  down  before  him," 
and  far  from  being  distressed  at  any  inquiries 
concerning  his  kingdom,  they  shall  rejoice 
and  "  praise  him."  In  all  things  shall  He 
have  the  pre-eminence,  who  amongst  other  ti- 


tles will  be  acknowledged  "King  of  kings, 
and  Lord  of  lords."  Has  all  this  been  veri- 
fied 1  How  readest  thou  !  These  days  are  to 
come,  the  prospect  is  before  us.  And  this 
prayer, 

V.  Is  certain  in  its  success.  It  must  be  ac- 
complished. The  world  was  made  for  the 
Son  of  God,  and  he  shall  have  "  the  heathen 
for  his  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth  for  his  possession."  The  enlarge- 
ment of  his  kingdom  is  the  uniform  design  of 
all  the  events  of  Providence.  To  this,  all  the 
commotions  and  changes  which  are  taking 
place  in  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  which 
so  exceedingly  perplex  and  confound  the 
views  of  politicians,  are  tending  ;  to  this,  a  fu- 
ture day  will  show  us,  they  were  all  subser- 
vient. These  agitations  are  "  shaking  not  the 
earth  only,  but  also  heaven,"  and  will  con- 
tinue till  "  the  removal  of  those  things  that 
are  shaken  as  of  things  that  are  made,  that 
those  things  which  cannot  be  shaken  may 
remain."  "  I  will  overturn,  overturn,  over- 
turn it — until  He  come  whose  right  it  is,  and 
1  will  give  it  him." 

Nothing  comes  to  pass  by  chance,  and  God 
never  acts  without  a  design  worthy  of  him- 
self. In  the  midst  of  apparent  confusion  and 
uproar,  he  guides  the  whole  movement;  "he 
makes  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him." 
Things  which  we  in  our  ignorance  and  rash- 
ness imagine  unfavourable  may  be  the  most 
proper  means  which  Supreme  Wisdom  could 
employ.  Whatever  our  opinion  may  be  re- 
specting present  occurrences,  his  plan  is 
fixed,  "his  counsel  shall  stand,  and  he  will  do 
all  his  pleasure."  The  word  is  gone  out  of 
his  mouth,  and  "  hath  he  spoken  and  shall  he 
not  do  it]"  What  he  has  promised  he  is 
able  to  perform.  Impediments  are  nothing  to 
him ;  "  before  Zerubbabel  every  mountain 
shall  become  a  plain." 

Do  we  stagger  at  the  promise  of  God 
through  unbelief!  Let  us  remember  we  have 
a  sufficient  pledge  of  the  whole  in  what  he 
has  already  done.  The  joyful  sound  has  al- 
ready extended  far,  notwithstanding  all  the  at- 
tempts of  its  enemies  to  restrain  it.  Multi- 
tudes from  age  to  age  have  heard  the  glad 
tidings,  and  obtained  salvation  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  What  a  happy  change 
has  this  highly  favoured  island  experienced 
since  the  invasion  of  Julius  Cffisar.  Suppose 
a  Christian  had  landed  with  the  Roman  army, 
and  after  examining  the  state  of  the  country, 
had  heard  a  prophet  predicting  all  the  advan- 
tages we  have  long  enjoyed. — Are  we  at- 
tempting any  thing  more  improbable  7 — But 
what  is  every  instance  of  conversion  7 — Some 
of  you  are  not  strangers  to  "  the  day  of  God's 
power."  You  know  that  "the  exceeding 
greatness  of  his  mighty  power,"  which  has 
been  exerted  in  you,  is  sufficient  to  ensure 
success  to  our  labours  amongst  the  heathen 
— I  consider  every  sinner  as  a  little  pagan 


PRAYER  FOR  THE  SUCCESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 


165 


world  in  himself ;  and  the  grace  which  renews 
him,  is  all  the  encouragement  we  desire. 

Draw  no  improper  inference  from  this  rea- 
soning. Say  not  God  will  support  his  own 
cause,  and  execute  his  own  purposes,  and 
therefore  we  may  sit  down  at  our  ease ;  we 
have  nothing  to  do — He  will  maintain  his 
own  cause,  and  he  will  accomplish  his  own 
designs ;  but  if  you  are  properly  affected,  you 
will  be  desirous  of  becoming  instruments  in 
his  hands.  The  certainty  of  the  event,  instead 
of  relaxing  diligence,  should  increase  it;  in- 
stead of  preventing  the  use  of  means,  should 
encourage  us  in  the  use  of  them ;  and  if  Da- 
vid's prayer  be  the  prayer  of  your  hearts,  it 
will  excite  activity,  it  will  lead  you  in  pro- 
portion to  its  warmth  to  exert  yourselves 
according  to  your  stations,  your  talents,  your 
opportunities.  Without  this  our  prayer  is 
hypocrisy,  and  our  pity  resembles  the  charity 
of  those  verbal  philanthropists,  who  say,  "be 
ye  warmed  and  filled;  notwithstanding  ye  give 
them  not  those  things  which  are  needful." 

We  ought  to  lament  that  we  have  done  so 
little  to  prove,  I  will  not  say  the  fervency, 
but  even  the  sincerity  of  our  prayers;  and 
upon  such  an  occasion  as  this,  rather  than 
embarrassing  our  minds  with  the  conduct  of 
God  in  the  contracted  limits  of  the  gospel,  it 
becomes  us  to  examine  ourselves  to  see  whe- 
ther we  are  not  very  guilty.  The  church  of 
Christ  should  have  burned  with  zeal  while 
there  was  one  heathen  nation  or  town  to  con- 
vert. The  Friend  of  sinners  said  to  his  apos- 
tles, "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach 
the  gospel  to  every  creature."  They  were 
not  to  desist  till  they  had  fulfilled  their  ex- 
tensive commission.  The  apostles  understood 
this,  they  flew  like  angels,  "having  the  ever- 
lasting gospel  to  preach  unto  them  that  dwell 
on  the  earth."  The  disciples  dispersed;  the 
gospel  spread  in  every  direction,  and  "mighty 
grew  the  word  of  God  and  prevailed."  Pious 
men  after  them  followed  the  noble  example ; 
carrying  the  gospel  from  city  to  city,  and 
from  province  to  province.  This  course  should 
have  been  continued — but  successors  forgot 
the  common  object,  stopped  without  endea- 
vouring to  make  further  progress,  divided 
into  parties,  and  contended  with  acrimony 
for  their  respective  peculiarities.  How  little 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  gospel  have  the  hea- 
thens for  ages  derived  from  their  connexion 
with  evangelised  nations  ?  It  has  been  justly 
observed,  that  this  is  the  crying  sin  of  Chris- 
tian lands ;  a  sin  too  of  which  they  have  been 
quite  insensible ;  a  sin  never  lamented  in  our 
sermons  for  national  humiliation.  Without 
using  the  means  to  save  men,  are  we  not 
chargeable  witli  their  blood?  Is  it  not  owing 
to  our  criminal  indifference  that  millions  are 
"sitting  in  darkness,  and  in  the  region  of 
the  shadow  of  death."  Viewing  ourselves  in 
a  national  capacity,  as  Englishmen,  the  provi- 


dence of  God  has  furnished  us  with  peculiar 
advantages  for  this  service.  Our  arms  and 
commerce  have  opened  us  a  passage  to  the 
most  distant  parts  of  the  globe — but  our  de- 
signs have  not  been  formed  with  a  view  to 
benefit  the  heathens,  while  our  conduct  has 
left  a  bad  impression  of  the  Christian  name. 
We  have  all  been  culpable;  too  long  have 
we  stood  idle ;  we  have  not  sought  occasions, 
we  have  neglected  opportunities.  May  our 
repentance  obtain  forgiveness,  and  produce 
diligence. — Let  us  with  one  heart  and  voice 
pray  that  the  whole  earth  may  be  filled  with 
the  glory  of  our  God.  Let  us  spend  our  days 
and  our  lives  in  this  blessed  service. — It  is 
better  that  it  be  in  our  heart  to  attempt  the 
work,  should  our  endeavours  fail  of  success, 
than  that  we  should  be  as  indifferent  to  it  as 
the  supine  Jews  were  to  the  rebuilding  of  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  which  had  long  lain  in 
ruins,  under  the  notion  that  "the  time  is 
not  come,  the  time  that  the  Lord's  house 
should  be  built." 

We  rejoice  that  a  considerable  number  is 
formed  into  a  society  to  make  proof  of  the 
will  of  God  respecting  the  conversion  of  the 
heathens.    We  rejoice  that  the  well  formed 
plan  receives  such  general  countenance  and 
assistance.  We  rejoice  in  the  harmony,  liber- 
ality, prudence,  and  vigour  which  have  been 
displayed.    We  rejoice  that  there  are  those 
whose  zeal  for  the  Lord  of  Hosts  disposes 
to  renounce  the  comforts  of  civilized  life,  to 
devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  savage 
tribes.  We  rejoice  that  there  are  those  whose 
hearts  have  inclined  them  to  engage  in  con- 
ducting them  to  the  place  of  their  destination 
— give  commandment,  O  God,  concerning 
their  bones — say  to  the  roaring  winds  and 
waves,  "  touch  not  mine  anointed,  and  do  my 
prophets  no  harm."    We  rejoice  that,  in  a 
business  of  such  moment,  so  many  favourable 
circumstances  concur  to  strengthen  our  hands 
and  enliven  our  hopes.    We  will  treat  our 
discouragements  with  neglect,  and  our  en- 
couragements with  gratitude.    We  have  be- 
gun in  the  strength  of  the  Lord,  and  his 
spirit  enabling  us,  we  will  patiently  endure. 
While  others  "despise  the  day  of  small 
things,"  "  we  will  get  our  faith  strengthened 
by  the  testimony  of  Jesus,"  and  expect  that 
"  the  little  one  shall  become  a  thousand,"  and 
that  the  cloud,  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand, 
shall  increase  and  pour  down  showers  upon 
the  desert  lands. — And  thou,  O  God,  whose 
mercies  are  over  all  thy  works,  and  hatest  no- 
thing that  thou  hast  made.  O  thou  that  lovest 
prayer,  receive  and  answer  our  united  suppli- 
cations.   "Be  merciful  unto  us,  and  bless  us; 
and  cause  his  face  to  shine  upon  us.  That 
thy  way  may  be  known  upon  earth,  thy 
saving  health  upon  all  nations.    Let  the  peo- 
ple praise  thee,  O  God,  let  all  the  people 
praise  thee." 


THE  MUTUAL  DUTIES  OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES: 


A  SERMON, 


OCCASIONED  BY 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  R  S  ,  ESQ,.  OF  M, 


PREACHED  IN  ARGYLE-CHAPEL,  BATH,  AUGUST  16,  1801. 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

It  may  be  asked  Why  is  this  Sermon  published! 

The  Author  has  never  been  afraid  to  preach  on  moral  subjects. — He  despises  the  charge  of 
Legality,  and  exceedingly  dislikes  the  exclusive  application  of  the  term  Evangelical,  to 
doctrinal  preaching. 

He  has  also  been  accustomed  to  seize  events,  and  circumstances,  as  they  arise,  to  enliven 
attention,  and  diversify  public  instruction. — His  much  esteemed  Friend,  whose  name  he 
has  been  compelled  to  suppress  in  the  title-page,  having  engaged  to  worship  in  his  con- 
gregation, on  the  Sabbath  previous  to  his  espousals  with  an  amiable  young  Female  who  had 
resided  some  months  in  the  Author's  family — he  resolved  to  select  a  portion  of  Scriptrure 
suitable  to  the  occasion.  The  occasion  was  particular,  but  the  subject  was  general ;  he 
therefore  enlarged,  and  delivered  the  following  Discourse. — The  same  day  he  received  a 
pressing  solicitation  from  his  friend  to  publish ;  soon  after  arrived  a  request,  signed  by  a 
number  of  his  people,  in  the  name  of  the  rest.  The  author  respects  their  judgment,  and 
owes  much  to  their  kindness  and  esteem.  The  peculiar  delicacy  and  elegance  with  which 
these  applications  are  drawn  up,  would  induce  him  to  expose  them  at  length,  did  not  their 
flattering  relation  to  himself  forbid. 

It  is  hoped  the  Sermon  will  appear  impartial ;  it  was  delivered  without  fear,  and  without 
flattery.  Long  as  the  discourse  will  be  found,  it  was  all  spoken ;  the  Preacher  desiring 
the  audience  to  exercise  a  little  more  patience  than  usual.  He  chose  to  address  both  at 
the  same  time,  rather  than  reserve  the  duties  of  either  husband  or  wife  to  another  op- 
portunity. As  the  author  always  preaches  without  notes,  and  had  written  only  a  general 
sketch  of  the  subject,  some  few  words  and  phrases  may  differ  from  those  delivered  in  the 
pulpit ;  but  the  sense  is  completely,  and  the  language  nearly  the  same.  Had  the  Sermon 
been  designed  for  publication,  or  studied  free  from  some  peculiar  interruptions  and  engage- 
ments, it  might  have  been  less  unworthy  of  perusal. 

Bath ;  August  24,  1801. 

166 


A  SERMON. 


Likewise,  ye  -wives,  be  in  subjection  to  your 
own  husbands,  that  if  any  obey  not  the  -word, 
they  also  may  without  the  word  be  won  by 
the  conversation  of  the  wives,  while  they 
behold  your  chaste  conversation  coupled 
with  fear.  Whose  adorning;  let  it  not  be  that 
outward  adorning,  of  plaiting  the  hair,  and 
of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  ap- 
parel :  but  let  it  be  the  hidden  man  of  the 
heart,  in  that  which  is  not  corruptible,  even 
the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price. 
For  after  this  manner  in  the  old  time,  the 
holy  women  also  who  trusted  in  God  adorned 
themselves,  being  in  subjection  unto  their 
own  husbands :  even  as  Sarah  obeyed  Abra- 
ham, calling  him  lord  :  whose  daughters  ye 
are  as  long  as  ye  do  well,  and  are  not  afraid 
with  any  amazement.  Likewise,  ye  hus- 
bands, dwell  with  them  according  to  know- 
ledge, giving  honour  unto  the  wife  as  unto 
the  weaker  vessel,  and  as  being  heirs  to- 
gether of  the  grace  of  life  ;  that  your  pray- 
ers be  not  hindered. — 1  Pet.  iii.  1 — 7. 

The  Governor  of  the  universe  is  perpetu- 
ally varying  and  determining  our  duties,  by 
the  dispensations  of  his  providence,  the  con- 
ditions in  which  he  fixes  us,  and  the  connex- 
ions he  leads  us  to  form.  Thus  the  whole 
Scripture  is  examined  in  succession,  and  every 
truth  of  the  gospel  obtains  an  application  ap- 
propriate and  impressive. 

Marriage  is  an  institution  of  peculiar  im- 
portance. It  is  of  divine  ordination,  and  al- 
most coeval  with  the  existence  of  the  human 
race.  It  is  the  origin  of  families ;  the  source 
of  the  continuance  and  welfare  of  nations. 
It  distinguishes  man  from  the  brute  creation, 
excludes  the  disorders  of  licentiousness,  and 
cherishes  the  sweetest  affections  of  the  heart. 
There  is  no  union,  the  quality  of  which  is  so 
intimate,  the  obligation  of  which  is  so  bind- 
ing, the  consequences  of  which  are  so  mo- 
mentous. It  even  surpasses  natural  relation, 
"  and  for  this  cause  shall  a  man  leave  his  fa- 
ther and  his  mother,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his 
wife,  and  they  two  shall  be  one  flesh ;  what 
therefore  God  hath  joined  together  let  not 
man  put  asunder." 

Hence  the  opinion  of  those  who  would 
either  banish  or  degrade  marriage,  has  al- 
ways been  held  by  the  wise  and  the  virtuous, 
as  a  sentiment  the  most  vile  and  injurious, 
equally  destructive  of  morals  and  of  social 
happiness.  Hence  many  of  the  philosophers 
and  legislators,  even  in  the  heathen  world, 
were  peculiarly  solicitous  to  establish,  to 


sanction,  to  encourage,  and  to  regulate  this 
institution.  But  in  this,  as  well  as  in  every 
other  instance  favourable  to  the  welfare  of 
mankind,  the  "  gospel  of  our  salvation"  has 
the  pre-eminence.  It  classes  the  prohibition 
of  the  ordinance  with  "the  doctrine  of  devils," 
— assures  us  "  marriage  is  honourable  in  all" 
— leads  us  back  to  its  commencement  in  pa- 
radise— renders  the  bond  indissoluble — places 
it  under  the  jurisdiction  of  Heaven — takes 
from  it  an  image  to  prefigure  the  union  of 
Christ  and  his  people — and  often  makes  it 
the  subject  of  particular  instruction.  It  has 
given  us  advice,  it  has  given  us  law — and 
where  is  this  law  so  beautifully  and  largely 
expressed  as  in  the  passage  I  hold  up  to  view 
this  morning'! 

Part  L  In  the  delineation  of  the  duties 
resulting  from  marriage,  our  divine  Instruc- 
tor begins  with  wives — and  to  animate  their 
attention  to  the  rules  he  prescribes,  he  re- 
minds them  of  the  probability  of  their  use- 
fulness to  their  husbands  in  a  case  of  all 
others  the  most  interesting:  "If  any  obey 
not  the  word,  they  may,  without  the  word, 
be  won." 

Religion  is  not  always  universal,  even  in 
small  detached  portions  of  society.  In  the 
same  house,  there  may  be  an  heir  of  glory, 
and  a  son  of  perdition,  natural  alliance  and 
spiritual  disunion,  persons  living  together  in 
this  world  between  whom,  in  eternity,  there 
will  be  a  great  gulf  fixed. 

The  instance  of  infidelity  and  ungodliness 
is  taken  from  the  man ;  and  the  apostle  marks 
the  piety  of  the  wife,  rather  than  of  the  hus- 
band.— Is  this  mentioned  without  design1? 
Do  not  history,  experience,  and  observation 
favour  the  probability  ?  Have  not  women  in 
all  denominations,  in  all  ages,  in  all  coun- 
tries, in  all  ranks,  been  more  disposed  to 
religion,  than  men  1 — From  how  many  vices 
are  females  restrained  by  considerations 
which  bear,  much  less  forcibly,  on  the  minds 
of  men'! — Who  depends  so  much  on  opinion 
and  esteem,  or  feels  so  many  motives  to  pre- 
serve reputation  unblemished  1 — Denied  so 
often  the  liberty  of  divulging  their  emotions, 
Who  so  ready  to  seize  the  privilege  of  pray- 
er, and  to  "  pour  out  the  heart  before-  God  !" 
— Who  so  susceptible  of  lively  impressions  t 
— Who  feels  so  powerfully  the  thrilling  of 
sympathy,  or  melts  down  so  easily  into  all 
the  tendernesses  of  benevolence  1 — While  we 
think,  they  feel — while  we  deliberate,  they 
relieve.  What  woman  was  ever  destitute 
167 


168 


THE  MUTUAL  DUTIES 


of  commiseration  ! — It  was  not  a  woman  that 
unfeelingly,  "  looked  on,"  or  "  passed  by  on 
the  other  side,"  when  the  poor  traveller  lay, 
wounded,  bleeding;,  half-dead. — Who  so  ac- 
customed to  self-denial,  the  first,  the  last  les- 
son, in  the  school  of  Christ  ! — Who  feels 
such  vicissitudes  of  health,  or  passes  through 
scenes  of  pain  and  hazard  so  adapted  to  ex- 
cite an  entire  dependence  upon  God,  and  to 
awaken  solemn  thought  by  bringing  another 
world  nearer  the  view"! — Less  occupied  in 
the  distracting  concerns  of  business,  she  has 
more  time  for  solitude  and  reflection.  Her 
general  sphere  of  action,  is  much  more  pro- 
pitious to  innocency  and  devotion.  Her  joys 
are  more  immediately  derived  from  her  vir- 
tues. Home  is  the  chief  place  of  her  amuse- 
ments. The  tenderest  cares  of  nature  charm, 
as  well  as  employ  her.  The  mother  is  happy 
to  press  to  her  lips  and  to  her  bosom  the  babe 
she  has  borne — to  feel  the  stroking  hand 
of  her  suckling  at  her  breast — to  sit  by 
the  cradle  of  her  infant  daughter — to  view 
from  the  window  the  manly  exploits  of  her 
boy — or 

"  Delightful  task,  to  rear  the  tender  thought. 
To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot, 
To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o'er  the  mind, 
To  breath  th'  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
The  generous  purpose  in  the  glowing  breast." — 

Hence,  how  often  do  we  see  the  sister, 
traveling  a  road,  in  which  her  brother  re- 
fuses to  accompany  her ;  and  the  wife,  living 
under  the  power  of  the  gospel,  while  the 
husband  neglects  to  hear,  or  hears  with  in- 
difference. It  were  indeed  to  be  wished  that 
real  Christians  would  never  contract  affinity 
with  the  irreligious :  they  are  required  to 
"  marry  in  the  Lord."  The  necessity  of  this 
law  is  more  than  justified,  by  the  discords 
and  miseries  in  which  those  involve  them- 
selves, who  refuse  to  be  governed  by  it. 
Therefore  no  countenance  is  here  given  to 
the  practice  of  being  "  unequally  yoked  to- 
gether with  unbelievers."  But  a  change 
may  be  effected  subsequent  to  marriage. 
The  wife  may  become  religious,  while  the 
husband  remains  a  stranger,  or  a  foe.  Now 
that  which  should  prevent  marriage,  is  not 
to  dissolve  it.  The  relation  continues ;  and 
the  wife,  so  far  from  being  absolved  from  her 
obligation,  is  furnished  with  an  additional 
motive  to  discharge  it.  "  For  what  knowest 
thou,  O  wife,  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy 
husband'!"  Let  it  excite  all  thy  concern. 
The  salvation  of  a  soul!  the  salvation  of  a 
husband !  of  one  endeared  by  so  many  ties ! — 
O  lose  not  each  other  in  the  "  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death."  Let  your  friendship  sur- 
vive the  desolations  of  time,  and  be  renewed 
to  infinite  advantage  beyond  the  grave. 
Think,  O  wife,  of  the  happiness — the  honour 
that  awaits  you.  What  is  the  triumph  you 
have  acquired  over  him  by  your  charms, 
compared  with  the  victory  you  will  obtain 


over  him  by  your  religion  1 — What  pleasure 
will  attend  the  remainder  of  your  days — 
now  you  are  "  of  one  heart  and  of"  one  mind  :" 
now  you  "take  sweet  counsel  together." 
The  privileged  language  of  prayer  now  is 
our  Father — of  every  motion  made  "  to  go 
and  seek  the  Lord  of  Hosts,"  there  is  a 
ready  acceptance — "I  will  go  also."  And 
what  will  "be  your  joy  and  crown  of  re- 
joicing" in  that  day  when,  before  assembled 
men  and  angels,  he  will  say,  "  O  blessed  be 
the  Providence  which  attached  us  in  yonder 
world,  and  has  still  more  perfectly  united  us 
in  this.  The  woman  thou  gavest  to  be  with 
me"  led  me  not  to  "  the  tree  of  knowledge 
of  good  and  evil,"  but  to  V  the  tree  of  life, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of 
God." 

To  encourage  those  who  feel  the  painful 
affliction  of  ungodly  relations,  I  ■would  ob- 
serve that,  ultimately,  we  seldom  see  one 
individual  only  in  a  household   called  by 
grace.    She  may  have  the  honour  of  being 
the  first-fruits;  but  more,  commonly  follow. 
She  may  be  long  exercised  before  any  fa- 
vourable indications  appear — but  how  often 
at  last,  are  all  her  prayers  heard,  and  her  en- 
deavours crowned  with  success,  prejudices 
the  most  inveterate  gradually  give  way; 
each  is  successively  disposed  to  hear,  till  we 
see  them  all  "  going  to  the  house  of  God  in 
company."    It  is  not  possible  for  persons  to 
be  much  together  even  in  the  exercises  of 
common  friendship,  without  impression  and 
effect :  we  soon  imbibe  each  other's  disposi- 
tions, and  assimilate :  "  he  that  walketh  with 
wise  men  shall  be  wise,  and  a  companion  of 
fools  shall  be  destroyed."    But  of  all  the 
causes  which  form  our  manners,  none  ope- 
rates so  powerfully  as  female  intercourse.  If 
confined  entirely  to  their  company,  we  be- 
come effeminate — if  constantly  excluded  from 
it,  we  contract  a  roughness  of  temper,  and  a 
negligence  of  person ;  our  behaviour  assumes 
a  ruder  form,  our  voice  a  harsher  tone ;  our 
sensations  are  less  delicate,  our  passions  more 
brutal.    Who  has  so  many  avenues  to  the 
heart  as  a  woman  ? — What  influence  affects 
like  hers'?    By  means  of  a  connexion  the 
most  attractive,  an  intercourse  the  most  fa- 
miliar— the  persuasion  of  words,  the  elo- 
quence of  tears,  an  example  the  most  lovely 
and  always  placed  in  view — a  wife  has  a 
thousand  opportunities  of  removing  prepos- 
sessions, of  fixing  impressions,  of  engaging 
attention,  of  insinuating  goodness. — The  gos- 
pel was  spread  over  a  large  proportion  of 
Europe,  and  established  in  several  countries 
where  it  prevails  to  this  day,  chiefly  by  wo- 
men, who,  not  satisfied  with  gaining  thrones 
by  their  charms,  rendered  their  attractions 
subservient  to  their  religion,  and  drew  over 
monarchs  to  the  Christian  faith.    These  are 
public,  splendid  achievements,  immortalized 
in  history.    How  many  private  instances  of 


OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES. 


169 


this  sanctified  influence  are  there,  unknown 
to  the  world,  hut  recorded  "  in  the  book  of 
God's  remembrance."  And  if,  my  sisters, 
your  example  succeeds  in  the  conversion  of 
a  husband  from  irreligion,  shall  it  not  be  ef- 
fectual to  reclaim  him  from  inferior  mistakes 
and  improprieties! — Shall  it  not  advance 
godliness,  where  it  is  already  found  ]  Warm 
it  where  it  is  chilled  !  Polish  it  where  it  is 
rough]  And,  Finish  it  where  it  is  outline] 
And  how  is  all  this  to  be  accomplished  ] 
Not  by  eccentric  efforts — not  by  starting  out 
of  your  sphere,  but  by  exemplifying  religion 
as  you  move  orderly  in  it — not  by  preaching, 
but  by  living — addressing  the  eye  rather 
than  the  ear — employing  the  eloquence 
which  flows  from  subjection,  conversation, 
chastity  and  fear — the  manner  in  which  you 
adorn  yourselves — the  models  you  design  to 
imitate. 

1.  Nothing  will  increase  your  influence, 
and  secure  your  usefulness,  more  than  "  being 
in  subjection  to  your  own  husbands."  This 
must,  doubtless,  be  limited  and  qualified.  If 
the  demands  of  a  husband  oppose  the  will  of 
God,  you  are  pre-engaged  by  a  law  of  uni- 
versal operation,  and  "  ought  to  obey  God  ra- 
ther than  man."  In  other  cases,  perhaps,  it 
will  not  be  so  easy  to  furnish  exceptions. 
"Therefore,  as  the  church  is  subject  unto 
Christ,  so  let  the  wives  be  to  their  own  hus- 
bands in  every  thing." 

There  is  a  general  rule,  the  spirit  of  which 
would  easily  settle  every  relative  claim: 
"  submitting  yourselves  one  to  another  in  the 
fear  of  God."  But  it  cannot  be  denied,  that 
a  peculiar  subjection  is  in  the  Scriptures  re- 
quired of  the  wife — not  indeed  the  submis- 
sion of  slaves  to  their  masters,  or  of  subjects 
to  their  sovereign,  or  even  of  children  to  a 
father. — It  has  more  of  equality  in  it — ac- 
cords with  the  idea  of  a  helper,  companion, 
friend — springs  originally  from  choice — and 
is  acquiesced  in  for  the  sake  of  propriety  and 
advantage.  For  none  of  the  determinations 
of  God  are  capricious :  all  are  founded  in  rea- 
son, and  all  are  designed  to  promote  both  in- 
dividual and  social  welfare.  In  this  regula- 
tion has  God  acted  partially]  Has  he 
sacrificed  the  happiness  of  the  woman  to  the 
dignity  of  the  man  ]  Has  he  not  equally  re- 
garded the  interest  of  the  wife,  the  children, 
and  the  connexions]  In  all  communities, 
whether  more  or  less  extensive,  there  can  be 
no  happiness  without  peace,  no  peace  with- 
out order,  no  order  without  subordination,  no 
subordination  without  subjection.  Perpetual 
strife  would  originate  from  equality,  or  con- 
tested superiority.  Numberless  contentions 
would  arise,  from  diversity  of  views,  from  dif- 
ference of  temper,  and  perverse  adherence 
to  opposite  plans,  destroying  the  harmony 
and  tranquillity  of  families.  The  only  me- 
thod by  which  these  disorders  can  be  either 
precluded  or  removed,  is  by  establishing  pre- 
Y  15 


eminence  and  authority,  and  enjoining  sub- 
mission and  acquiescence.  This  being  in- 
dispensably necessary,  the  only  question  is, 
Where  shall  the  power  of  decision  be 
lodged  ] 

From  many  considerations,  expressive  of 
the  Divine  will,  the  Scripture  assigns  this  pre- 
rogative to  the  man. — Witness  the  priority 
of  his  creation:  "For  Adam  was  first  formed, 
then  Eve."  Witness  the  manner  in  which 
he  derived  his  being :  "  The  man  is  not  of 

the  woman,  but  the  woman  of  the  man."  

Witness  his  destiny:  "For  the  man  was  not 
created  for  the  woman,  but  the  woman  for 
the  man."  "  And  the  Lord  said,  it  is  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone,  I  will  make  him  a 
help  meet  for  him."  Witness  his  relation : 
"The  man  is  the  image  and  glory  of  God, 
but  the  woman  is  the  glory  of  the  man." 
Witness  the  entrance  of  sin :  "  Adam  was 
not  deceived,  but  the  woman  being  deceived, 
was  in  the  transgression."  Witness  the  ma- 
lediction denounced  upon  the  woman :  "  Thy 
desire  shall  be  to  thy  husband,  and  he  shall 
rule  over  thee."  There  was  nothing  origi- 
nally like  a  curse  in  this  demand.  In  Para- 
dise, nothing  oppressive  or  unreasonable, 
would  have  appeared  in  the  requisition :  and 
nothing  mortifying,  would  have  attended  the 
performance.  But  the  fall  has  shed  the  poi- 
son— sin  has  rendered  it  irksome. — The  wo- 
man is  disinclined  to  obey,  while  the  man  is 
often  absurd  in  his  designs,  capricious  in  his 
temper,  tyrannical  in  his  claims,  and  degra- 
ding in  his  authority.  But,  my  sisters,  while 
you  have  reason,  much  reason  to  complain, 
remember,  it  is  the  consequence  of  sin,  the 
sin  of  your  own  sex.  Turn  the  curse  into  a 
blessing — derive  real  honour  from  seeming 
disgrace.  You  cannot  dispense  with  this  sub- 
jection, without  opposing  the  express  will  of 
God,  and  violating  the  laws  of  marriage  to 
which  you  have  acceded  by  a  voluntary  en- 
gagement, and  promised  obedience  in  a  man- 
ner the  most  solemn. 

2.  Much  depends  upon  your  "  conversa- 
tion." By  this  you  are  to  understand  all 
your  behaviour,  the  whole  course  of  your 
lives.  Little  is  to  be  done  by  a  single  action, 
or  an  individual  solitary  excellence,  while 
other  things  in  the  character,  so  far  from  aid- 
ing its  impressions,  counteract  its  tendency, 
or  mar  its  effects.  There  is  a  connexion  be- 
tween duties  and  virtues :  they  enliven  and 
enforce — they  sustain  and  recommend  each 
other.  The  strength  of  this  moral  chain  to 
draw,  depends  upon  the  concatenation  of  the 
links;  and  the  force  of  this  spiritual  beauty 
to  strike  and  captivate,  results  from  the  union, 
harmony,  and  proportion  of  all  the  lineaments. 
One  handsome  feature  all  surrounded  with 
ugliness,  would  excite  disgust,  or  render  de- 
formity the  more  observable. 

3.  Your  conversation  is  to  be  always  dis- 
tinguished by  "chastity  and  fear,"  and 


170 


THE  MUTUAL  DUTIES 


these  are  to  be  "  coupled."  How  natural, 
how  necessary  the  alliance ! 

The  apostle  deems  it  needless  to  descend 
to  the  grossness  of  vice,  or  actual  infractions 
of  the  marriage  covenant.  He  would  inti- 
mate, that  where  there  are  no  such  infamous 
degradations  in  your  sex,  there  may  be  an 
audacity  of  countenance,  a  boldness  of  look,  a 
levity  of  discourse,  a  freedom  of  manners,  a 
forwardness  of  behaviour,  a  challenging,  ob- 
trusive, advancing  air — very  unbecoming  the 
sacred  decorum  which  should  appear  in  all 
the  female  character.  He  therefore  requires 
"fear." — It  intends  the  reverse  of  every 
thing  seen  in  too  many  of  our  modern  females 
— diffidence,  bashfulness;  the  blushings  of 
reserve ;  the  tremulous  retiring  of  modesty  ; 
the  sensation  which  arises  from  the  union  of 
innocency  and  danger ;  the  carefulness  which 
leads  you  to  "avoid  the  appearance  of  evil ;" 
the  apprehension,  that  to  be  suspected  is  al- 
most as  bad  as  to  be  guilty ;  the  prudence 
which  keeps  you  far,  very  far  from  the  extre- 
mities of  permission;  the  vigilance  which 
discerns  and  announces  danger,  while  yet  a 
great  way  off ;  the  caution  that  never  suffers 
the  outguards  to  be  called  in,  or  the  enemy  to 
approach  even  near  enough  to  reconnoitre. 
This,  my  fair  hearers,  will  diffuse  a  glory 
over  you,  which  never  fails  to  charm,  and 
upon  all  the  glory  will  be  a  defence. 

4.  Much  depends  on  the  manner  in  which 
you  adorn  yourselves;  whether  you  appear 
the  votaries  of  vanity ;  or  prize  your  souls ; 
improve  your  minds ;  and  govern  your  tem- 
pers. "  Whose  adorning,  let  it  not  be  that 
outward  adorning  of  plaiting  the  hair,  and  of 
wearing  of  gold  and  apparel :  but  let  it  be 
the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  in  that  which  is 
not  corruptible ;  even  the  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  God 
of  great  price." 

The  sex  which  rendered  clothing  neces- 
sary, has  always  been  too  much  disposed  to 
glory  in  the  memorial  of  our  shame.  Wo- 
men have  not  the  same  mediums  of  address 
with  men.  They  must  succeed  by  means 
more  silent  and  disguised.  Discovery  would 
often  frustrate  intention.  They  know  their 
force  lies  in  their  beauty,  and  seize  dress  as 
an  auxiliary;  they  increase  natural  attrac- 
tions by  artificial  assistance.  "  Can  a  maid 
forget  her  ornaments,  or  a  bride  her  attire  !" 

Peter  knows  what  is  too  characteristical 
in  the  sex.  What  he  despairs  to  alter,  he 
labours  to  improve.  Women  must  be  fine  ; 
will  be  fine — He  indulges  them ;  only  turn- 
ing their  attention  from  external  decoration 
to  internal  accomplishment. — Not  that  he 
forbids  a  proper  attention  to  the  body.  No- 
thing can  be  so  despicable  and  disgusting  as 
a  slattern ;  though  it  has  been  remarked,  that 
a  propensity  to  it,  is  often  found  connected 
with  a  love  of  finery.  The  body  is  the  work 
of  God— the  structure  is  "  fearfully  and  won- 


derfully made." — It  is  a  part  of  our  nature — 
but  it  is  the  inferior  part ;  and  this  should  re- 
gulate the  degree  of  attention.  A  woman  of 
good  sense,  will  always  possess  a  better  stand- 
ard of  dress  in  her  own  taste,  than  is  to  be  de- 
rived from  any  precise  rules. 

She  will  avoid  whatever  would  appear 
light  and  wanton.  The  apparel  of  "  a  wo- 
man professing  godliness,"  should  not  be  the 
attire  of  a  woman  of  the  world,  much  less, 
"  the  attire  of  a  harlot."  Females  sometimes 
wear  a  label,  on  which  indecency  and  indeli- 
cacy are  written,  and  then  appear  to  be  of- 
fended because  observers  can  read.  I  would 
not  always  infer  too  much  of  the  disposition 
from  these  outward  hints — but  in  the  name  of 
a  blush,  on  what  principle  can  we  explain 
the  invention  or  adoption  of  certain  modes  1 
— I  describe  nothing. 

She  will  beware  of  exceeding  her  rank, 
and  her  circumstances,  or  even  of  reducing 
her  means  of  beneficence.  Shall  I  here  avaU 
myself  of  the  season  ]  How  many  miserable 
objects  are  there  around  you  ! — What  an  in- 
sult on  the  wretchedness  of  the  times,  is  the 
dress  of  many  extravagant  females  !  My  fair 
hearers,  escape  this  censure.  Remember 
Dorcas;  enter  yonder  "  upper  chamber" — see 
the  "  widows  standing  and  weeping,  and 
showing  the  coats  and  garments  which  she 
made  while  she  was  with  them." — What  will 
afford  you  most  pleasure  when  you  come  to 
die — the  recollection  of  the  property  you  em- 
ployed in  clothing  the  naked,  or  of  that 
which  you  expended  on  costly  folly?  What 
satisfaction,  resulting  from  the  applause  of 
finery,  can  equal  the  joy  of  benevolence  a  fe- 
male feels,  while  moving  among  the  tears, 
prayers,  and  benedictions  of  gratitude  1 — 
"  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me 
— and  when  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness 
unto  me." 

She  will  keep  it  from  engrossing  too  much 
of  the  mind ;  she  will  not  suffer  it  to  be  either 
her  business  or  delight — she  will  not  render 
herself  responsible  at  the  bar  of  God  for  the 
awful  waste  of  hours,  weeks,  months — shall  I 
add,  years !  detached  from  a  life  as  short  as  it 
is  important,  and  the  whole  of  which  ought  to 
be  redeemed ! 

The  apostle  speaks  comparatively. — He 
would  teach  women  that  they  have  souls — 
that  they  are  made  capable  of  greater  beauty 
than  the  body  yields — that  they  ought  to 
adorn  the  mind — that  their  endeavours  to  de- 
corate their  persons  should  be  infinitely  sur- 
passed by  their  attention  to  intellectual  ac- 
complishments— that  they  should  be  ambitious 
of  moral  endowments,  and  above  all  tilings, 
pay  an  attention  to  the  "  heart." — For  what 
are  talents  unsanctified  1 — "  Knowledge  puff- 
eth  up,  but  "charity  edifieth." — What  are 
notions  the  most  sublime,  and  sentiments  the 
most  admired,  if  the  disposition  be  not  under 
the  bias  of  religion  ?   How  defective  will  the 


OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES. 


171 


whole  figure  appear,  without  "  the  ornament 
of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit?" — What  so  un- 
sightly, so  odious,  as  a  discontented,  fretful, 
foaming,  boisterous,  scolding  woman  1  "  A 
continual  dropping  in  a  very  rainy  day,  and  a 
contentious  woman  are  alike."  "It  is  better 
to  dwell  in  the  corner  of  a  house-top  than  with 
a  brawling  woman  in  a  wide  house."  "  It  is 
better  to  dwell  in  the  wilderness  than  with  a 
contentious  and  an  angry  woman.  Whoso 
hideth  her,  hideth  the  wind  and  the  ointment 
of  his  right  hand,  that  bewrayeth  itself."  The 
Graces  were  female :  so  were  the  Furies  too. 
Much  depends  on  the  cultivation  of  the  mind ; 
more  on  the  regulation  of  the  temper.  The 
necessity  of  this  qualification,  in  family  con- 
nexion, is  inconceivable.  In  managing  the 
concerns  of  a  household,  how  many  things 
will  perpetually  arise  to  disappoint,  to  ruffle, 
to  unhinge,  to  vex,  and  to  provoke  ! — These 
require  the  command  of  temper.  And  there 
are  wives,  and  there  are  wives  in  this  assem- 
bly, who  in  "  patience  possess  their  souls" — 
who  can  feel,  but  retain  their  composure — 
who  can  calmly  remonstrate,  but  know  not 
to  insist — who  can  yield  and  accommodate 
— who  are  "not  easily  provoked" — but 
"  easily  entreated  :"  who  are  disposed  rather 
to  endure  than  complain — and  to  suffer  in 
secret,  rather  than  disturb  others  with  their 
grief. 

Suffer  me  then,  my  fair  hearers,  to  recom- 
mend this  exchange,  this  preference  of  de- 
coration. Like  "  the  king's  daughter,  be 
all  glorious  within."  Let  the  Bible  be  the 
mirror  at  which  you  dress ;  and  while  others 
are  weightily  engaged  in  catching  a  fashion, 
or  adjusting  a  curl,  let  the  object  of  your 
cultivation  be  the  understanding,  the  memory, 
the  will,  the  affections,  the  conscience.  Let 
no  part  of  this  internal  creation  be  unadorned  : 
let  it  sparkle  with  the  diamonds  of  wisdom, 
of  prudence,  of  humility,  of  gentleness. 
These  ornaments  alone  will  confer  dignity, 
and  prepare  for  usefulness.  If  destitute  of 
these,  can  you  imagine  it  possible  to  obtain 
real  durable  regard  ?  Need  you  be  told,  that 
these  skin-deep  perfections,  these  exterior 
senseless  appendages,  imply  no  excellency  in 
the  wearer,  and  are  only  admired  by  the  weak, 
or  the  worthless]  Are  you  ignorant  that 
men  often  despise  a  soul  lodged  in  a  form  they 
adore,  and  admire  nonsense,  because  it  is 
poured  from  handsome  lips'!  Are  you  de- 
signed for  toys,  or  rational  beings  ?  the  play- 
things ofthe  senses,  or  improving  companions? 
Would  you  in  company  keep  your  husbands 
on  thorns,  while  they  wish  you  to  be  seen, 
and  hope  you  will  not  be  heard ;  knowing 
how  much  more  likely  you  are  to  strike  by 
the  quality  and  pattern  of  your  robes,  than 
by  the  insipidity  and  inanity  of  your  dis- 
course?— Adorn  yourselves  in  the  newest 
mode,  in  the  richest  attire,  plait  your  hair, 
deck  yourselves  with  pearls — will  these  ren- 


der you  valuable? — Will  these  qualify  you  to 
manage  the  concerns  of  a  family,  "  to  give 
a  portion  to  your  maidens,"  to  train  up  your 
children  in  wisdom  and  virtue,  to  be  a  help- 
meet for  your  husband  ! — What !  are  you 
endued  with  reason  and  immortality,  only  to 
be  enamoured  with  a  piece  of  embroidery,  or 
to  pay  your  devotions  to  the  colour  of  silk  ? 
— Are  you  sublimely  resolved  never,  never 
to  leave  the  world  of  fans,  and  enter  the 
region  of  intelligence  and  of  mind? 

These  decorations  are  "not corruptible." 
All  other  ornaments  "  perish  in  the  using." 
All  other  attire  gives  place  to  the  shroud. 
"  Beauty  consumes  away  like  a  moth" — the 
sparkling  eye  "  is  closed  in  darkness" — the 
body  is  "  laid  in  the  grave — death  shall  feed 
upon  it."  The  charmer,  looking  in  vain  for 
admirers,  says  "  to  corruption,  Thou  art  my 
father:  to  the  worm,  Thou  art  my  mother 
and  my  sister." — Prolong  life.  Accidents 
may  disfigure,  and  diseases  corrode. — How 
quickly  time  changes  the  countenance ! — 
How  transient  the  empire  of  colours  and  of 
tints ! — How  soon  wrinkles  and  gaudy  attire 
disagree  ! — Having  laid  in  no  stock  of  mental 
influence,  and  sober  entertainment  against 
the  evil  day,  what  becomes  of  these  delight- 
ful creatures  ? — A  few  years  reduce  them  to 
insignificance,  leaving  them  only  the  humi- 
liating claims  of  pity,  or  the  uncertain  returns 
of  gratitude. — But  an  accomplished  pious 
woman,  can  never  be  the  object  of  neglect — 
she  will  attract  notice,  and  confer  happiness, 
even  when  descending  into  the  vale  of  years. 
The  ravages  of  time  cannot  reach  the  soul : 
death  cannot  strip  off  the  habits  of  immor- 
tality :  it  will  only  change  her  "  from  glory 
to  glory  :"  only  remove  her  from  earth,  un- 
worthy of  continuance,  and  place  her  among 
"  the  innumerable  company  of  angels." 

In  adorning  ourselves,  the  opinion  of  others 
is  very  influential ;  especally  if  the  admirers 
discover  taste,  possess  sway,  or  can  give  law 
to  fashion.  This  decoration  is  in  the  sight 
op  Gon  of  great  price."  "  Not"  she  "  who 
commendeth  herself  is  approved,  but  whom 
the  Lord  commendeth."  What  is  "  the 
honour  that  cometh  from  man  ?"  How  waver- 
ing, how  vain,  how  debasing  ! — But  "  the  ho- 
nour that  cometh  from  God  only,"  is  purifying, 
satisfying,  enduring.  It  is  impossible  to  feel 
a  complacency  in  ourselves,  while  conscious 
that  we  are  disesteemed  by  a  Being  of  infi- 
nite wisdom,  excellency,  and  goodness.  His 
"judgment  is  always  according  to  truth." 
"  In  his  favour  is  life ;"  on  his  applause  our 
happiness  depends — and  in  vain  we  approach 
him  with  any  of  those  distinctions  which 
dazzle  and  deceive  mankind ;  for  "  the  Lord 
taketh  pleasure"  only  "  in  them  that  fear 
him,  in  them  that  hope  in  his  mercy." 

5.  Much  depends  on  the  models  you 
choose  for  imitation.  The  apostle  would 
have  you  conform,  not  to  the  flutterers  of 


172 


THE  MUTUAL  DUTIES 


fashion,  not  to  the  triflers  of  a  day,  who  live 
only  to  please,  and  derive  all  their  conse- 
quence from  vanity — but  an  illustrious  com- 
pany of  female  worthies,  who  drew  towards 
them  the  eye  of  God,  who  served  their  gen- 
eration according  to  his  will — who  obtained 
a  distinguished  place  in  the  annals  of  inspira- 
tion— whose  names  have  been  long  glorified, 
and  will  be  "had  in  everlasting  remem- 
brance." "  A  gracious  woman  retaineth 
honour."  "Favour  is  deceitful  and  beauty 
is  vain,  but  a  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord, 
she  shall  be  praised :  give  her  of  the  fruit  of 
her  hands,  and  let  her  own  works  praise  her 
in  the  gates." — "  For  after  this  manner  in 
the  old  time,  the  holy  women  also  who  trust- 
ed in  God  adorned  themselves,  being  in  sub- 
jection to  their  own  husbands  :  even  as  Sarah 
obeyed  Abraham,  calling  him  lord,  whose 
daughters  ye  are  as  long  as  ye  do  well,  and 
are  not  afraid  with  any  amazement."  The 
honour  of  this  alliance  awaits  you — however 
inferior  in  talents — however  obscure  in  your 
stations — however  poor  in  your  circumstances 
— here  is  a  passage,  by  which  you  may  ob- 
tain a  place  in  this  glorious  assembly,  and  sit 
down  by  the  side  of  a  Lydia,  a  Mary,  a  Han- 
nah, a  Deborah,  a  Sarah,  "  in  the  kingdom 
of  God."  For  by  what  are  these  pious  wo- 
men distinguished  1 — By  excellencies  which 
fall  within  the  reach  of  general  imitation — 
by  preferring  the  soul  to  the  body — by  meek- 
ness and  gentleness — by  modesty  and  reserve 
— by  a  ready  submission  to  the  demands  of 
their  stations. — Thus  Sarah,  though  of  the 
same  family  with  her  husband,  and  distinguish- 
ed by  peculiar  honours,  never  rose  above  the 
most  humble  duties  of  her  situation — never 
suffered  even  the  princess,  to  injure  the  wife 
— and,  willingly  yielded  Abraham  reverence 
and  obedience. 

But  in  all  these  instances,  you  will  never 
"  do  well,"  and  become  the  "  daughters"  of 
Sarah,  unless  you  maintain  a  holy  magna- 
nimity ;    "  NOT   BEING    AFRAID    WITH  ANY 

amazement" — so  as  to  be  staggered,  con- 
founded, dismayed,  in  the  course  of  prescrib- 
ed duty.  There  can  be  no  impartial  obedi- 
ence, or  unwavering  perseverance  in  religion, 
without  courage  and  confidence.  The  man 
needs  it,  the  woman  needs  it :  the  husband 
requires  it,  and  the  wife  equally  requires  it. 
It  would  be  rendered  still  more  necessary, 
were  a  period  to  arrive,  in  which  every  airy 
speculation  would  be  preferred  to  practice  ; 
things  important,  because  plain  and  of  old 
standing,  would  be  lightly  esteemed ;  and 
nothing  would  strike,  nothing  be  relished, 
unless  dressed  up  in  novelty,  and  seasoned 
with  extravagance.  Such,  my  female  friends, 
is  the  period  in  which  we  live.  Many  of  the 
things  which  we  have  been  recommending 
on  sacred  ground,  would  be  considered  as 
barbarous  notions,  as  ignorance  of  the  world, 
prejudices  which  philosophy  would  cure,  the 


airs  of  hypocrisy,  the  effects  of  prudishness. 
Can  you  form  yourselves  by  these  rules  ]  Can 
you  encounter  opinion  1  Can  you  bear  the 
charge  of  singularity !  Can  you  abandon  the 
multitude,  laughing  or  lampooning  as  you 
retire  !  Can  you  live  according  to  the  dic- 
tates of  reason,  of  conscience,  and  of  God? — 
Be  principled — be  decided — be  resolved — be 
firm.  Having  formed  your  views  in  the  di- 
vine presence,  and  feeling  all  your  motives, 
go  forth,  and  be  steadfast  and  unmoveable,  in 
the  execution ;  "  always  abounding  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord." 

There  is  another  instance  in  which  these 
pious  women  exercised  confidence — depend- 
ing on  the  providence  of  God,  staying  them- 
selves by  faith  on  his  promises ;  and  thus  look- 
ing forward  with  a  firm  unruffled  mind  to- 
wards those  trying,  painful,  perilous  events 
•which  were  expected  to  befall  them.  The 
Scripture,  with  its  usual  tenderness,  furnishes 
the  woman  with  this  soothing,  tranquillizing 
hope,  in  prospect  of  a  season  the  most  anxi- 
ous— "Notwithstanding  she  shall  be  saved  in 
child-birth,  if  they  continue  in  faith  and 
charity,  and  holiness,  with  sobriety." 

Part  II.  Men  and  Brethren,  you  have 
been  hearing  my  address  to  the  companions 
of  your  lives.  But  I  hope  you  deem  instruc- 
tion equally  necessary  for  yourselves.  I  hope 
you  are  not  inclined  to  take  advantage  of  the 
subject,  to  abuse  your  authority  or  your 
claims.  Be  assured  they  are  not  unqualified. 
If  the  wife  is  to  be  governed  by  you,  you  are 
to  be  governed  by  reason  and  religion.  If 
she  is  to  submit,  you  are  to  honour.  If  in 
some' things  there  is  a  difference,  in  others, 
and  those  too  the  most  interesting  and 
durable,  there  is  an  equality.  "  Likewise, 
ye  husbands,  dwell  with  them  according  to 
knowledge,  giving  honour  unto  the  wife,  as 
unto  the  weaker  vessel ;  and  as  being  heirs 
together  of  the  grace  of  life ;  that  your  pray- 
ers be  not  hindered."  Observe,  my  bre- 
thren, 1st,  the  representation  of  your  duty; 
and,  2dly,  the  motives  by  which  it, is  en- 
forced. 

The  representation  of  your  duty  compre- 
hends two  things. 

1.  You  are  to  "  dwell  with  them  accord- 
ing to  knowledge."  This  intends  nothing 
less  than  residence,  opposed  to  absence  and 
roving.  It  is  absurd  for  those  who  have  no 
prospect  of  cohabitation  to  enter  this  state, 
and  those  who  are  already  in  it,  should  not 
be  unnecessarily  abroad.  Circumstances  of 
various  kinds  will  doubtless  render  occasional 
excursions  unavoidable  ;  but  let  a  man  return 
as  soon  as  the  design  of  his  absence  is  accom- 
plished, and  let  him  always  travel  with  the 
words  of  Solomon  in  his  mind,  "  As  a  bird 
that  wandereth  from  her  nest,  so  is  a  man 
that  wandereth  from  his  place."  Can  a  man 
while  from  home,  discharge  the  duties  he 
owes  to  his  household  1    Can  he  discipline 


OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES. 


173 


his  children  ]  Can  he  maintain  the  worship 
of  God  in  his  fan:ily  1 — I  know  it  is  the  duty 
of  the  wife  to  lead  the  devotion  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  husband  ;  and  she  should  take  it 
up  as  a  cross,  if  not  for  the  time  as  a  privi- 
lege. Few  however  are  thus  disposed,  and 
hence  one  of  the  sanctuaries  of  God,  for 
weeks  and  months  together  is  shut  up. — I  am 
sorry  to  say,  that  there  are  some  husbands 
who  seem  fonder  of  any  society  than  the  com- 
pany of  their  wives.  It  appears  in  the  dis- 
posal of  their  leisure  hours.  How  few  of 
these  are  appropriated  to  the  wife !  The 
evenings  are  the  most  domestic  periods  of 
the  day.  To  these  the  wife  is  peculiarly 
entitled — she  is  now  most  free  from  her  nu- 
merous cares,  and  most  at  liberty  to  enjoy 
reading  and  conversation.  It  is  a  sad  reflec- 
tion upon  a  man  when  he  is  fond  of  spending 
his  evenings  abroad.  It  implies  something 
bad,  and  it  predicts  something  worse. 

But  though  the  apostle  intends  nothing 
less  than  residence,  he  designs  much  more. 
Residence  is  required  with  a  view  to  the 
performance  of  all  the  duties  of  the  state — 
and  is  used  to  express  them.  In  the  dis- 
charge of  these  obligations,  the  husband  is  to 
act  "  according  to  knowledge" — to  "  behave" 
himself  "  wisely,"  to  regulate  all  his  proceed- 
ings, by  a  holy  discretion.  O  ye  husbands, 
show  that  you  are  capable  of  the  relation  in 
which  you  are  placed  !  If  you  will  be  the 
head,  remember  the  head  is  not  only  the  seat 
of  government,  but  of  knowledge.  If  you 
will  have  the  management  of  the  ship,  see 
that  a  fool  is  not  placed  at  the  helm.  Shall 
the  blind  offer  themselves  as  guides]  To 
enable  you  to  live  as  a  Christian  husband,  in 
how  many  instances  will  the  exercise  of  an 
enlightened  prudence  be  found  necessary ! 
By  this  you  are  to  ascertain  the  temper,  the 
excellencies,  the  foibles  of  your  associates. 
This  is  to  teach  you,  how  to  accommodate. 
This  is  to  show  you,  when  to  see  as  if  you 
saw  not,  and  to  hear  as  if  you  heard  not. 
This  is  to  tell  you  how  to  extinguish  the 
torch  of  discord ;  how  even  to  prevent  the 
kindling  of  strife — when  to  give  up,  when  to 
recede  from  a  lawful  claim  for  the  sake  of  a 
greater  good.  This  is  to  teach  you  also 
when  you  are  not  to  yield. — Adam,  to  in- 
dulge the  solicitation  of  his  wife,  disobeyed 
the  commands  of  Heaven.  By  the  same  soft, 
seducing  instrumentality,  the  heart  of  Solo- 
mon was  turned  aside  from  "  God."  Their 
sad  examples  have  been  unhappily,  too  often 
followed.  But  would  she  force  upon  you  her 
antipathies — would  she  embroil  you  in  all  the 
resentments  of  caprice,  or  rivalry — would 
she  allure  you  towards  scenes  of  dissipation 
and  gaiety — would  she  urge  you  to  extrava- 
gance in  appearances,  dress,  table,  furniture 
— would  she  chill  you  with  suspicions,  and 
render  you  less  generous — the  importunity 
of  woman,  "  lovely  woman,"  is  to  be  in  vain. 

15* 


"He  that  loveth"  even — "his  wife  more 
than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me." 

2dly.  You  are  to  "  give  honour  unto  the 
wife." — What  honour'! 

The  honour  of  esteem.  This  is  to  arise 
from  a  consciousness  of  her  worth,  and  a 
knowledge  of  her  importance  in  the  com- 
munity— in  the  family — and  to  yourselves — 
by  polishing  your  character,  dividing  your 
cares,  soothing  your  sorrows,  affording  you 
in  a  peaceful  home  a  refuge  from  the  storm, 
an  asylum  from  the  mortifications  of  an  un- 
friendly world. 

The  honour  of  attachment.  This  affec- 
tion is  to  be  peculiar,  undivided,  unrivalled. 
Nothing  is  to  wear  it  away — nothing  to  di- 
minish it :  no  length  of  time,  no  discovery  of 
imperfection.  Children  are  parts  of  your- 
selves, but  your  wives  are  yourselves.  "No 
man  ever  yet  hated  his  own  flesh:" — but 
many  a  monster  has  done  so.  I  disdain  to 
notice  those  miscreants,  who  can  have  re- 
course to  blows ;  but  those  who  can  indulge 
in  a  churlishness  of  behaviour — a  sharpness 
of  language — an  unkindness  of  looks,  would 
do  well  to  consider  how  far  they  are  comply- 
ing with  the  divine  command — "  Husbands, 
love  your  wives,  and  be  not  bitter  against 
them." 

The  honour  of  attention.  Nothing  is  so 
intolerable  to  a  female  as  neglect;  and  upon 
what  principle  can  a  man  justify  indifference, 
omissions  of  observance,  and  heedless  man- 
ners towards  a  wife?  Has  he  not  chosen 
her] — Has  he  not  declared  his  preference  ] — 
Are  not  the  vows  of  God  upon  him  ] — Is  she 
not  the  chief  relation  he  possesses  on  earth] 

The  honour  of  confidence.  You  are  not 
to  proceed  without  their  knowledge  and  ad- 
vice. In  many  cases  their  opinion  may  be 
preferable  to  your  own.  Their  judgment 
may  be  less  clouded  by  interest :  they  stand 
back  from  the  object,  you  are  too  near ;  they 
are  cool  and  calm,  you,  by  being  in  the  scene, 
are  ruffled,  and  inflamed.  An  eminent  minis- 
ter of  the  gospel  has  published  to  the  world, 
"  That  he  had  never  in  any  particular  busi- 
ness acted  contrary  to  the  suggestions  of  his 
wife,  without  having  reason  afterwards  to  re- 
pent of  it."  I  believe  there  are  many  who  are 
restrained  from  similar  acknowledgments 
only  by  a  want  of  candour.  Some  husbands 
never  consult  their  wives ;  or  even  deign  to- 
inform  them :  and  their  wives  have  often  to- 
learn  from  others,  or  from  events,  things  in 
which  perhaps  they  are  most  deeply  con- 
cerned. 

The  honour  of  maintenance.  You  are  to 
provide  for  them,  and  enable  them  to  appear 
becoming  their  rank  and  situation  in  life. — 
What  can  we  think  of  the  man  who  squan- 
ders away  his  substance  upon  his  lewd  or  his 
drunken  appetites,  reduces  his  wife  to  a 
drudge,  and  suffers  her  with  her  babes  to 
struggle  with  the  hardships  of  penury,  unable 


174 


THE  MUTUAL  DUTIES 


to  procure  a  sufficiency  of  food,  or  raiment  ? 
— "  If  any  provide  not  for  his  own,  and  espe- 
cially for  those  of  his  own  house,  he  hath  de- 
nied the  faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel." 

The  honour  of  benevolence.  You  are  to 
enable  her  to  do  good. — Every  man  should 
devote  a  proportion  of  his  property  to  chari- 
table uses,  and  he  should  not  by  his  distribu- 
tion of  the  whole,  draw  towards  himself  all 
the  regards  of  the  relieved  and  obliged.  His 
wife  should  command  a  share  of  the  means 
and  of  the  honour. — Husbands  !  give  your 
wives  these  proofs  of  regard  which  reason 
and  revelation  demand  for  them,  and  we  shall 
soon  hear  less  of  your  reflections  and  com- 
plaints. 

Observe,  2dly,  the  motives  by  which  this 
duty  is  enforced.    They  are  three. 

The  first  is  taken  from  the  natural  condi- 
tion of  the  sex.  "  She  is  the  weaker  ves- 
sel." If  this  be  mentioned  as  a  reason  to 
excite  a  becoming  behaviour  towards  the 
wife,  there  can  be  nothing  in  the  expression 
degrading,  nothing  that  tends  to  diminish  the 
honour  we  are  bound  to  show  them — nothing 
that  is  not  adapted,  when  properly  considered, 
to  promote  it.  No  invidious  comparisons  are 
here  justified  between  the  powers  of  the  mind. 
Whether  there  would  be  any  disparity,  were 
females  placed  in  the  same  circumstances — 
indulged  with  the  same  advantages — and  al- 
lowed to  feel  the  same  motives  with  their 
brethren,  it  would  be  needless  to  determine. 
They  have  taken  good  care  often  to  prove, 
that  the  difference  is  not  so  vast  as  some 
male-monopolists  are  willing  to  suppose. — 
The  reference  is  obvious  and  striking.  Na- 
ture is  always  wise.  It  gives  more  strength 
where  it  is  necessary — and  less,  where  other 
qualities  supersede  it.  Milton  has  finely  ex- 
pressed the  difference  in  the  original  pair : 

"  For  contemplation  he  and  valour  form'd, 
For  softness  she  and  sweet  attractive  grace." 

Her  bodily  strength  is  inferior,  her  consti- 
tution less  firm  and  vigorous,  her  frame  more 
tender,  her  temper  more  yielding,  her  cir- 
cumstances more  generally  depressing.  A 
rose,  a  lily,  allows  of  no  rough  usages.  Ten- 
derness demands  gentleness:  delicacy,  care  : 
pliancy,  props.  Has  a  condition  fewer  re- 
sources, and  is  there  much  in  it  of  the  afflict- 
ive and  humbling  ?  The  more  does  it  need 
succour,  and  the  more  necessary  is  every  as- 
sistance to  maintain  and  increase  the  conse- 
quence of  it,  especially  where  so  much 
depends  upon  the  respectability  of  the  cha- 
racter who  fills  it. — Where  is  the  man  who 
is  not  alive  to  this  consideration  1 — Where  is 
the  husband,  who  reflecting  on  her  peculiar 
circumstances,  would  not  be  disposed  by 
every  possible  means  to  promote  the  dignity, 
and  the  satisfaction  of  a  wife  1 — What  is  the 
language  of  these  circumstances'! — "  Honour 
us;  deal  kindly  with  us.    From  many  of  the 


opportunities,  and  means  by  which  you  pro- 
cure favourable  notice,  we  are  excluded. 
Doomed  to  the  shades,  few  of  the  high  places 
of  the  earth  are  open  to  us.  Alternately  we 
are  adored,  and  oppressed.  From  our  slaves, 
you  become  our  tyrants.  You  feel  our  beauty, 
and  avail  yourselves  of  our  weakness.  You 
complain  of  our  inferiority,  but  none  of  your 
behaviour  bids  us  rise.  Sensibility  has  given 
us  a  thousand  feelings,  which  nature  has 
kindly  denied  you. — Always  under  restraints, 
we  have  little  liberty  of  choice.  Providence 
seems  to.  have  been  more  attentive  to  enable 
us  to  confer  happiness,  than  to  enjoy  it. — 
Every  condition  has  for  us  fresh  mortifica- 
tions ;  every  relation  new  sorrows.  We  enter 
social  bonds ;  it  is  a  system  of  perpetual  sacri- 
fice. We  cannot  give  life  to  others,  without 
hazarding  our  own.  We  have  sufferings 
which  you  do  not  share,  cannot  share. — If 
spared,  years  and  decays  invade  our  charms, 
and  much  of  the  ardour  produced  by  attrac- 
tion departs  with  it. — We  may  die. — The 
grave  covers  us,  and  we  are  soon  forgotten : 
soon  are  the  days  of  your  mourning  ended, 
soon  is  our  loss  repaired  :  dismissed  even  from 
your  speech,  our  name  is  to  be  heard  no  more ; 
a  successor  may  dislike  it — Our  children, 
after  having  a  mother  by  nature,  may  fall 
under  the  control  of  a  mother  by  affinity,  and 
be  mortified  by  distinctions  made  between 
them,  and  her  own  offspring. — Though  the 
duties  which  we  have  discharged  invariably, 
be  the  most  important  and  necessary,  they  do 
not  shine:  they  are  too  common  to  strike: 
they  procure  no  celebrity :  the  wife,  the  mo- 
ther fills  no  historic  page.  Our  privations, 
our  confinements,  our  wearisome  days,  our 
interrupted,  our  sleepless  nights,  the  hours 
we  have  hung  in  anxious  watchings  over  your 
sick  and  dying  offspring." — 

Behold  a  second  motive.  It  is  derived  from 
the  dignity  of  the  wife  as  a  mutual  partaker 
of  the  privileges  of  the  gospel. — No  inequality 
reigns  here.  It  is  a  "  common  salvation." 
Are  you,  O  man,  an  "  heir  of  the  grace  of 
life  V  So  are  they — heirs  together  with 
you — in  the  same  degree — having  the  same 
claims — the  same  hopes — the  same  rever- 
sions. "There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
there  is  neither  bond  nor  free,  there  is  neither 
male  nor  female,  for  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ 
Jesus." — Can  a  woman  be  an  infidel! — 
What  self-degradation.  Need  she  be  told 
her  obligations  to  Christianity  ?  What  has 
raised  her  so  high  in  the  scale  of  importance  1 
What  system  has  done  such  justice  to  her 
claims'?  In  what  country  have  the  provi- 
sions of  legislation  lost  sight  of  the  distinc- 
tion of  male  and  female ;  looked  at  both  with 
the  same  aspect,  rendered  the  one  as  person- 
ally responsible  as  the  other,  and  entitled 
them  equally  to  the  same  rights  and  privi- 
leges 1 — When  a  woman  steps  on  this  sacred 
I  ground,  she  becomes  free — she  is  her  own  ; 


OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES. 


175 


she  is  a  party,  she  treats  for  herself.  Here, 
my  sisters,  your  reproach  is  rolled  away.  We 
see  one  of  your  sex  bringing  forth  "  Imma- 
nuel,  God  with  us."  We  see  the  angels  of 
heaven  bringing  you  messages,  and  perform- 
ing for  you  miracles.  We  see  you  last  at 
the  cross,  and  first  at  the  tomb  of  our  com- 
mon Lord.  We  see  Jehovah  listening  to 
your  supplications,  and  maintaining  your 
cause.  We  see  you  "  the  daughters  of"  the 
Lord  Almighty."  We  see  you  redeemed 
with  an  infinite  price — destined  to  possess  a 
"  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory,"  and  hastening  to  partake  of  a  resur- 
rection in  which  they  "  neither  marry  nor  are 
given  in  marriage,  but  are  as  the  angels  of 
God  in  heaven." 

A  third  reason  is  drawn  from  those  devo- 
tional exercises  which  cannot  be  properly 
performed  where  relative  duty  is  not  observed 
— "  That  your  prayers  be  not  hindered."  It 
is  impossible  for  a  Christian  to  live  without 
prayer.  He  prays  alone,  and  he  prays  with 
others.  The  field,  the  temple,  the  closet,  the 
family,  are  all  with  him  places  "where 
prayer  is  wont  to  be  made." 

flow  necessary  is  prayer  in  the  marriage 
state.  How  does  social  devotion  sweeten 
social  life !  It  obtains  strength  for  its  duties, 
and  succour  for  its  trials.  It  gives  a  direc- 
tion to  the  mind,  by  which  we  escape  num- 
berless snares ;  an  elevation,  by  which  we 
rise  above  a  thousand  vexations.  How  it 
sanctifies  our  comforts !  How  it  prepares  the 
soul  for  disappointment  or  success !  How  it 
calls  down  the  blessing  of  Heaven  to  "  attend 
the  labour  of  our  hand !"  How  it  attracts  the 
divine  presence,  and  places  Him  within  our 
reach  "  who  is  nigh  unto  all  them,  that  call 
upon  him;  to  all  that  call  upon  him  in  truth" 
— Of  a  prayerful  habitation  it  may  be  said, 
How  glorious  is  this  place !  "  This  is  none 
other  than  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the 
gate  of  heaven !"  "  The  voice  of  rejoicing 
and  of  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the 
righteous."  O  happy  mansion !  where  all 
the  members  of  the  family  "  dwell  together 
in  unity" — living  with  each  other  here,  as 
those  who  expect  to  be  associates  for  ever ; 
maintaining  a  friendship  the  centre  of  which 
is  religion,  the  duration  of  which  is  eternity, 
the  bonds  of  which  are  "  faith  and  love  which 
are  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Guard,  therefore,  against  every  thing  in- 
jurious to  the  service  of  God  in  your  fami- 
lies. Let  nothing  hinder  its  exercise.  Let 
nothing  prevent  its  fervour.  Let  nothing  de- 
stroy its  freedom.  Let  nothing  frustrate  its 
efficacy.  Let  nothing  limit,  or  even  delay 
its  success.  Let  your  whole  conversation 
be  consistent  with  devotion,  or  preparatory 
to  it  Avoid  whatever  renders  an  introduc- 
tion into  the  Divine  presence  less  easy,  or  less 
delightful.  Keep  open  a  passage  wide  enough 
to  advance  together  to  the  throne  of  grace. 


Go  hand  in  hand  into  his  presence :  "  Agree, 
touching  the  things  you  shall  ask,  and  it  shall 
be  done  for  you  of  our  heavenly  Father." 

In  reviewing  the  subject,  I  would  beseech 
you,  my  dear  hearers,  to  remember — That 
those  who  make  light  of  moral  and  relative 
duties,  contemn  the  will  of  God.  "  He  knows 
what  is  in  man,"  and  what  is  necessary  to 
him.  Every  condition  lies  open  to  his  view. 
He  sees  how  things  blend,  and  how  they 
issue ;  how  they  oppose,  or  how  they  aid  each 
other.  Though  invisible  to  us,  he  sees  the 
worm  that  lies  at  the  root  of  our  social  hap- 
piness :  we  wonder  at  the  effect,  he  sees  the 
cause,  and  would  remove  it.  He  has  conde- 
scended to  speak  :  we  have  his  judgment  re- 
lative to  every  station  and  relation  in  life. 
He  speaks  as  a  sovereign  who  has  authority 
to  command,  and  he  speaks  as  a  friend  who 
consults  your  welfare,  and  "  takes  pleasure 
in  the  prosperity  of  his  servants." 

Again.  We  have  reason  to  lament,  that 
there  is  such  a  general  deficiency  among 
professors  of  religion,  with  regard  to  those 
duties  which  they  owe  to  each  other.  Many, 
to  show  their  love  to  the  gospel,  testify  their 
indifference  to  the  law.  Numbers  are  too 
orthodox,  or  too  devotional,  to  be  moral.  Mo- 
rality is  below  their  faith,  or  their  raptures. 
Various  things  their  system  has  taught  them ; 
but  one  thing  it  has  not  taught  them,  one 
thing  it  does  not  require  them  to  learn — "  to 
deny  all  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and 
to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  the 
present  world."  Shall  ministers,  by  their  si- 
lence, be  accessary  to  this  corruption  of  man- 
ners, this  awful  perversion  of  religion  1 — Let 
them  "  affirm,  constantly,  that  they  which 
have  believed  in  God,  must  be  careful  to 
maintain  good  works.  These  things  are  good 
and  profitable  unto  men." 

Let  those  who  stand  already  in  the  mar- 
riage relation,  be  willing  to  know,  and  to 
practise  the  duties  which  spring  from  it. — 
Enter,  my  brethren  and  sisters,  the  temple  of 
revelation — bow  before  the  divine  oracle — 
say,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?" 
"  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth."  Ex- 
tract from  the  Scripture,  the  mind  of  God 
concerning  yourselves  individually.  Take 
home  the  words  I  have  been  explaining. 
Read.  Compare.  Resolve.  Reform.  Let  not 
husbands  take  away  the  duties  of  the  wife, 
nor  wives  the  duties  of  the  husband ;  but  let 
both  take  respectively  their  own,  and  say, 
"  O  that  my  feet  were  directed  to  keep  thy 
statutes."  "  I  have  chosen  the  way  of  truth, 
thy  judgments  have  I  laid  before  me." 
"  Through  thy  precepts  I  get  understanding, 
therefore  I  hate  every  false  way."  "  I  have 
sworn,  and  I  will  perform  it,  that  I  will  keep 
thy  righteous  judgments." 

Let  the  young  think  of  this,  and  let  it  in- 
fluence their  choice.  Let  those  think  of  it, 
who  are  approaching  this  holy  state.  By 


176 


DUTIES  OF  HUSBANDS  AND  WIVES. 


many  it  is  totally  overlooked  ;  and  they  con- 
tract marriages  on  considerations  purely  ac- 
cidental, or  worldly — as  if  they  wished  to 
marry,  not  to  be  happy;  to  gain  each  other, 
not  to  enjoy.  Who  forms  this  alliance  as  a 
Christian!  Who  enters  it  with  those  views 
and  motives  the  gospel  supplies'!  Who  con- 
sults God  in  the  undertaking"!  Who  has  the 
banns  published  in  heaven  to  ascertain  what 
impediments  are  pleaded  there  J  Thus  per- 
sons are  often  unsuitably  bound  together 
by  an  engagement,  which  can  only  be  dis- 
solved by  death,  that  comes  to  release  them 
from  one  prison,  and  conduct  them  into 
another. — 

But  may  I  not  congratulate  others  ? — My 
beloved  Friends,  in  this  important  concern, 
you  have  done  nothing  without  asking  coun- 
sel of  the  Lord.  By  faith  and  prayer,  I  am 
persuaded  you  have  engaged  that  Saviour 
who  was  present  at  the  marriage  of  Cana  in 
Galilee,  to  honour  your  approaching  nuptials ; 


and  under  the  influence  of  his  gracious  Spi- 
rit, your  mutual  affections  shall  increase  with 
time,  and  shine  bright  to  all  eternity. — I  look 
forward  and  see  you  blessing  and  blessed.  I 
see  you  "  walking  in  all  the  commandments 
and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless."  I 
see  your  "  children  like  olive-plants  around 
your  table."  I  see  you  endeavouring  to  form 
them  into  characters,  and  to  "  train  them  up 
in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord." 
I  see  you  resigning  each  other  with  the  feel- 
ings and  hopes  of  Christians. — "  For  this  I 
say,  the  time  is  short:  It  remaineth,  there- 
fore, that  both  they  that  have  wives,  be  as 
though  they  had  none ;  and  they  that  weep, 
as  though  they  wept  not;  and  they  that  re- 
joice, as  though  they  rejoiced  not;  and  they 
that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not ;  and 
they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it : 
for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away ;" 
and  you  are  hastening  from  the  altar  to  the 
tomb. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  VICTORY : 


A  SERMON 


PREACHED  IN  ARG  YLE-CHAPEL,  BATH,  DECEMBER  5,  1805; 

Being  the  day  appointed  for  a  general  Thanksgiving ;  for  the  Signal  Victory  obtained 
under  the  late  Lord  Viscount  JSelson,  over  the  Combined  Fleet  of  the  Enemy. 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

A  Sermon  presented  to  the  eye  from  the  Press,  is  submitted  to  a  severer  test  than  a  Ser- 
mon only  heard  from  the  Pulpit. 

A  Sermon  impressive  in  the  delivery  is  generally  less  interesting  in  the  perusal,  having 
no  longer  the  advantage  of  a  number  of  auxiliary  feelings  and  circumstances. 

These  obvious  reflections  would  have  hindered  the  Author  from  sending  abroad  a  dis- 
course composed  in  haste,  and  with  no  view  to  publication,  had  it  not  been  for  two  counter 
motives. 

One  of  which  is  taken  from  the  expediency  of  seizing  events  as  they  occur,  and  of  turning 
to  utility  present  impressions. 

The  other  is  derived  from  importunity.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  refuse  a  people  endeared 
by  a  thousand  attentions  and  kindnesses. — The  Author,  therefore,  has  yielded  to  the  warm 
and  unanimous  solicitations  of  a  large  and  highly  esteemed  congregation :  and  begs  leave 
only  to  observe — that  the  sermon  they  will  now  read,  is  more  than  substantially  the  same 
with  the  sermon  they  have  lately  heard :  few  sentences  are  altered  :  the  free  and  popular 
style  of  the  pulpit  is  retained. 

The  substance  of  the  prayer  is  also  inserted  by  desire. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  SERMON. 


O  God  thou  art  very  great,  thou  art 
clothed  with  honour  and  majesty  ;  thou  cover- 
est  thyself  with  light  as  with  a  garment ;  thou 
ridest  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind.  When 
we  reflect  upon  the  glory  of  thy  majesty,  we 
are  astonished  at  thy  infinite  condescension 
in  designing  to  notice  creatures  so  mean  and 
so  vile  as  we  are.  What  is  man  that  thou 
art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  Son  of  man  that 
thou  visitest  him.  We  have  thought  of  thy 
lovingkindness,  O  Lord,  in  the  midst  of  thy 
temple ;  and  are  again  assembled  together  to 
call  upon  our  souls,  and  all  that  is  within  us, 
to  bless  and  praise  thy  holy  name. 

We  rejoice  that  thy  throne  is  in  the  hea- 
vens, and  that  thy  kingdom  ruleth  over  all ; 
that  we  are  under  the  empire  of  a  Being  not 
only  almighty,  but  perfectly  righteous  and 
wise  and  good ;  that  all  things  in  our  world 
are  appointed  and  arranged  by  thee  ;  that  thy 


Providence  numbers  the  very  hairs  of  our 
head ;  and  that  a  sparrow  falleth  not  to  the 
earth  without  our  heavenly  Father. 

Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  us.  We 
bless  thee  for  personal  mercies.  If  we  are 
called,  it  is  by  thy  word.  If  we  are  renewed, 
it  is  by  thy  Spirit.  If  we  are  justified,  it  is 
freely  by  thy  grace  through  the  redemption 
that  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  It  is  in  thee  we  live, 
move,  and  have  our  being.  Thy  goodness  has 
been  always  to  listen  to  our  complaints,  to 
soothe  our  sorrows,  and  to  rescue  us  from 
dangers.  And  numberless  are  the  instances 
of  lovingkindness  that  now,  from  ignorance 
or  inattention,  escape  our  notice,  the  discov- 
ery of  which  will  awaken  our  songs  when 
we  mingle  with  those  that  dwell  in  thy 
house  above,  and  are  still  praising  thee. 

We  thank  thee  for  relative  mercies;  for 
blessings  on  our  families,  blessings  on  our 

177 


178 


PRAYER  BEFORE  SERMON. 


churches,  and  blessings  on  the  country  to 
which  we  belong.  We  confess  that  we  are 
not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies 
and  of  all  the  truth  which  thou  hast  shown 
us.  Sins  of  every  kind  and  degree  have 
reigned  among  us ;  have  spread  through  all 
ranks;  and  continued  through  all  warnings 
and  corrections;  and  if  thou  shouldest  deal 
with  us  after  our  sins,  or  reward  us  according 
to  our  iniquities,  we  should  no  longer  have 
a  name  and  a  place  among  the  nations  of  the 
globe. 

But  while  to  us  belong  shame  and  confu- 
sion of  faces,  to  thee,  the  Lord  our  God,  be- 
long mercies  and  forgiveness.  All  thy  dis- 
pensations towards  us  have  said  with  a  ten- 
derness that  ought  to  penetrate  our  hearts, 
How  shall  I  give  thee  up,  O  England !  Our 
privileges  never  improved,  and  forfeited 
times  without  number,  have  been  continued. 
We  still  behold  our  Sabbaths,  and  our  eyes 
see  our  teachers.  Our  constitution,  endeared 
by  comparison,  has  been  preserved ;  our  civil 
liberties  and  laws,  marked  by  their  justice 
and  mildness,  have  not  been  subverted ;  and 
still  we  sit  under  our  own  vines,  and  under 
our  own  fig  trees,  none  daring  to  make  us 
afraid.  Thou  hast  given  us  rains  and  fruitful 
seasons;  thou  hast  filled  us  with  the  finest 
of  the  wheat ;  our  garners  have  been  full,  af- 
fording all  manner  of  store ;  our  oxen  have 
been  strong  to  labour ;  our  sheep  have  brought 
forth  thousands  and  ten  thousands  in  our 
streets.  Thou  hast  spread  thy  wing,  and 
sheltered  us  from  the  pestilence  that  walketh 
in  darkness,  and  the  destruction  that  rageth 
at  noonday.  We  have  not  been  permitted  to 
hear  the  confused  noise  of  warriors,  nor  to 
see  garments  rolled  in  blood — it  has  not  come 
nigh  us.  Our  enemies  have  often  threatened 
to  swallow  us  up,  but  thou  hast  frustrated  their 
designs;  and  brought  into  conflict,  thou  hast 
given  us  a  succession  of  victories — the  great- 
est of  which  we  have  the  happiness  this  day 
to  acknowledge. 

O !  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his 
goodness  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the 
children  of  men  !  By  these  cords  of  love 
draw  us  to  thyself.  By  thy  mercies  may  we 
present  our  bodies  a  living  sacrifice  holy  and 
acceptable,  which  is  our  reasonable  service. 
After  such  a  deliverance  as  this,  may  we  no 
more  break  thy  commandments.  May  we 
never  convert  our  blessings  into  instruments 
of  provocation,  by  their  nourishing  pride  and 
arrogance,  and  self-confidence,  and  presump- 
tion ;  so  as  to  compel  thee  to  complain. — Do 


ye  thus  requite  the  Lord,  O  foolish  people, 
and  unwise !  I  have  nourished  and  brought 
children,  and  they  have  rebelled  against  me. 

With  all  our  gratitude  and  joy  may  we  re- 
member what  reasons  we  have  also  for  sor- 
row and  humiliation.  O  give  us  that  repent- 
ance that  is  unto  life.  O  reform  our  manners 
and  forgive  our  sins.  And  suffer  us  to  plead 
for  a  continuance  of  thy  goodness.  On  thee 
we  depend  for  our  preservation  and  deliver- 
ance. O !  disperse  the  clouds  that  hang  over 
us.  Mingle  not  a  perverse  spirit  in  the  midst 
of  us,  but  in  such  a  period  of  danger  may  we 
feel  as  the  heart  of  one  man.  May  we  not 
grow  impatient  under  the  pressure  of  needful 
burdens ;  nor  ever  suffer  our  trials  to  make 
us  insensible  to  our  comforts. 

Let  the  king  live  before  thee.  Upon  his 
head  may  the  crown  long  flourish.  Be  his 
consolation  and  support  under  the  weight  of 
growing  years,  of  bodily  infirmities,  and  of 
national  anxieties.  Bless  him  in  his  royal 
consort ;  and  in  all  the  branches  of  his  illus- 
trious family.  Bless  him  in  his  counsels.  Im- 
part to  those  who  are  at  the  helm  of  public 
affairs,  that  wisdom  that  is  profitable  to  di- 
rect ;  and  let  all  who  are  in  stations  of  public 
trusts  be  faithful  to  public  interests.  May  all 
the  various  classes  of  our  community  pursue 
that  righteousness  which  exalteth  a  nation, 
and  forsake  that  sin  which  is  a  reproach  to 
any  people.  And  as  all  events  are  under  thy 
control,  and  all  hearts  are  at  thy  command, 
open,  we  beseech  thee,  a  way  for  the  termi- 
nation of  hostility,  and  the  restoration  of 
peace. 

For,  O  God,  we  would  always  deplore  the 
necessity  of  war ;  we  would  weep  over  its  cala- 
mities, we  would  sigh  even  over  its  successes. 
We  must  bedew  our  own  victory  with  tears, 
in  the  loss  of  so  many  of  our  fellow-creatures 
and  of  our  fellow-citizens,  and  in  the  mourn- 
ful death  of  our  distinguished  leader.  God 
of  peace  wipe  away  our  tears.  Cause  the 
triumphs  and  the  horrors  of  war  to  cease. 
Return,  O  Lord,  how  long  t  and  let  it  repent 
thee  concerning  thy  servants.  O  satisfy  us 
early  with  thy  mercy ;  that  we  may  rejoice 
and  be  glad  all  our  days.  Make  us  glad  accord- 
ing to  the  days  wherein  thou  hast  afflicted 
us,  and  the  years  wherein  we  have  seen 
evil.  Let  thy  work  appear  unto  thy  servants, 
and  thy  glory  unto  their  children.  And  let 
the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon  us ; 
and  establish  thou  the  work  of  our  hands 
upon  us ;  yea,  the  work  of  our  hands  establish 
thou  it.  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  &c 


REFLECTIONS  ON  VICTORY. 


And  the  victory  that  day  -was  turnedinto  mourn- 
ing.— 2  Sam.  xix.  2. 

"  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  of  few 
days,  and  full  of  trouble."  Even  our  joys  as 
well  as  our  sorrows  proclaim,  "  this  is  not 
your  rest,"  and  call  upon  us  to  "arise  and 
depart."  For 

"  Roses  grow  on  thorns, 

And  honey  wears  a  sting." 

There  are  two  great  diminutions  of  all  our 
present  enjoyments.  The  one  arises  from 
change  and  disappointment.  Have  we  health'? 
To-morrow  we  may  be  laid  on  "  a  bed  of  lan- 
guishing." Have  we  substance  ?  "  Riches 
make  to  themselves  wings  and  flee  away." 
Have  we  honour]  Our  laurel  withers  in 
wearing,  or  is  torn  off  from  the  brow.  Alas ! 
how  many  in  speaking  of  their  possessions 
and  comforts  are  constrained  to  refer  to  them 
TLSjtast.  One  cries,  I  had  a  business — an- 
other, I  had  a  father — a  third,  I  had  a  child. 

The  other  springs  from  imperfection  and 
alloy.  Even  allowing  certain  objects  to  be 
attained  and  secured ;  on  how  many  condi- 
tions depends  the  pleasure  of  enjoyment'! 
The  absence  of  one  agreeable  quality ;  or  the 
presence  of  one  disagreeable  circumstance, 
will  be  sufficient  to  spoil  all  the  relish  of  our 
bliss;  and  even  to  excite  vexation  and  dis- 
gust. A  favour  was  shown  me,  and  had  it 
been  given  tenderly,  it  would  have  been 
pleasing :  had  it  come  earlier — it  would  have 
been  useful :  but  it  was  given  ungraciously  ; 
it  came  too  late.  There  we  see  a  man  who 
has  large  estates  to  leave  behind  him — but 
he  goes  childless.  Here  we  behold  a  numer- 
ous offspring — but  the  means  of  subsistence 
fail.  And  when  Haman  "  came  home  he  sent 
and  called  for  his  friends,  and  Zereshhis  wife. 
And  Haman  told  them  of  the  glory  of  his 
riches,  and  the  multitude  of  his  children,  and 
all  the  things  wherein  the  king  had  promoted 
him,  and  how  he  had  advanced  him  above  the 
princes  and  servants  of  the  king.  Haman  said 
moreover,  Yea,  Esther  the  queen  did  let  no 
man  come  in  with  the  king  unto  the  banquet 
that  she  had  prepared  but  myself ;  and  to-mor- 
row am  I  invited  unto  her  also  with  the  king. 
Yet  all  this  availeth  me  nothing,  so  long  as  I  see 
Mordecai  the  jew  sitting  at  the  king's  gate." 
The  Israelites  went  three  days  from  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Red  Sea,  and  "  found  no  water :" 
they  came  to  Marah,  "  and  could  not  drink 
of  the  water  because  it  was  bitter."    A  true 


representation,  says  Bishop  Hall,  of  a  wilder- 
ness state,  where  we  are  always  complaining 
even  of  our  trials  or  of  our  indulgences ;  and 
where  Providence  so  taxes  every  happiness, 
that  our  fruitfulness  differ  but  little  from  our 
wants. 

"No;  'tis  in  vain  to  seek  for  bliss, 
For  bliss  can  ne'er  be  found — 
'Till  we  arrive  where  Jesus  is, 
And  tread  that  heavenly  ground." 

My  brethren,  I  have  read  a  sentence  from 
the  sacred  history  that  affords  another  exem- 
plification of  this  truth,  whether  we  consider 
its  original  reference,  or  its  present  applica- 
tion. 

And  the  victory  was  turned  that  day 
into  mourning. — Victory  is  our  present  sub- 
ject; and  we  invite  your  attention  while  we 
consider — I.  Those  victories  that  terminate 
in  joy — and  II.  Those  that  are  attended  with 
sorrow. 

Yes — my  brethren,  there  are  victories  that 
terminate  in  joy ;  and  such  was 

First.  Our  Redeemer's  victory  over  all  his 
enemies  and  ours.  Ah !  what  a  struggle  had 
he,  to  conquer  those  who  had  ruined  man- 
kind, and  spread  misery  over  the  creation  of 
God.  "He  looked  and  there  was  none  to 
help ;  and  he  wondered  that  there  was  none 
to  uphold:  therefore  his  own  arm  brought 
salvation  unto  him ;  and  his  fury  upheld  him." 
He  interposed  and  succeeded — and  his  suc- 
cess was  the  more  remarkable,  as  it  seemed 
to  spring  from  actual  defeat.  In  fighting  he 
fell.  The  enemy,  sure  of  victory,  shouted. 
But  his  triumph  was  short.  How  often  and 
how  truly  have  we  exclaimed, 

"  I  sing  my  Saviour's  wonders,  death 
He  conquered  when  he  fell, 
'  'Tis  finished' — said  his  dying  breath, 
And  shook  the  gates  of  hell." 

"Now  is  the  judgment  of  this  world: 
now  is  the  prince  of  this  world  cast  out." 
And  this  victory  issued  in  joy  to  himself. 
He  had  his  eye  upon  it  all  through  the  con- 
flict: for  "the  joy  that  was  set  before  him, 
he  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame,  and 
is  set  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of 
God."  It  was  the  assured  reward  of  his  suf- 
ferings ;  "  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  his 
soul  and  shall  be  satisfied :  by  his  knowledge 
shall  my  righteous  servant  justify  many:  for 
he  shall  bear  their  iniquities.  Therefore 
will  I  divide  him  a  portion  with  the  great, 
and  he  shall  divide  the  spoil  with  the  strong; 
because  he  hath  poured  out  his  soul  unto 
179 


180 


REFLECTIONS  ON  VICTORY. 


death :  and  he  was  numbered  with  the  trans- 
gressors ;  and  he  bare  the  sin  of  many,  and 
made  intercession  for  the  transgressors."  It 
is  thus  "  he  draws  all  men  unto  him :"  It  is 
thus  he  gains  the  hearts  and  the  praises  of 
all  those  for  whom  he  bled  and  died ;  who, 
while  here,  glory  only  in  h  is  cross ;  who,  in  hea- 
ven behold  "  his  scars  of  love,  and  kindle  to 
a  flame" — and  who,  through  endless  ages 
will  adore  "  saying  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power, 
and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  ho- 
nour, and  glory,  and  blessing."  For  it  ends  also 
in  joy  to  his  people. — What  days  of  suspense 
and  despair  were  those  that  passed,  while  he 
was  silent  in  the  tomb!  For  he  had  gone 
to  assail  the  King  of  terrors  in  his  own  dark 
dominions,  and  he  said  as  he  entered,  "O 
death  I  will  be  thy  plagues,  O  grave  I  will 
be  thy  destruction,  repentance  shall  be  hid 
from  mine  eyes."  And  will  he  return?  said 
his  angels  and  desponding  followers.  Yes. 
On  the  third  hallowed  morning  he  comes 
forth  all  life  and  immortality.  "  Then  were 
the  disciples  glad  when  they  saw  the  Lord." 
"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed"  was  their  song, 
and  their  salvation.  And  they  went  forth 
and  said,  "  We  declare  unto  you  glad  tidings, 
how  that  the  promise  which  was  made  unto 
the  fathers,  God  hath  fulfilled  the  same 
unto  us  their  children,  in  that  he  hath  raised 
up  Jesus  again ;  as  it  is  also  written  in  the 
second  psalm,  Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day 
have  I  begotten  thee.  And  as  concerning 
that  he  raised  him  up  from  the  dead,  now  no 
more  to  return  to  corruption,  he  said  on  this 
wise,  I  will  give  you  the  sure  mercies  of 
David." 

And  how  was  the  intelligence  received  ? 
Not  coldly,  but  with  gladness  of  heart.  How 
was  it  heard  in  Samaria  ?  "  There  was  great 
joy  in  that  city."  How  did  the  Galatians  re- 
ceive it  ]  With  blessedness ;  "  where  is  the 
blessedness,  says  the  apostle,  ye  spake  of? 
For  I  bear  you  record,  that  if  it  had  been  possi- 
ble ye  would  have  plucked  out  your  own  eyes 
and  have  given  them  to  me."  How  did  the 
Thessalonians  embrace  it?  They  "received 
the  word  in  much  affliction  with  joy  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  And  why  do  not  you  give  it 
the  same  welcome?  Is  it  not  of  the  same 
importance  to  you,  as  it  was  to  them  ?  Does 
it  not  abound  with  the  same  exceeding  great 
and  precious  promises?  Does  it  not  open  the 
same  prospects  to  your  hopes  ?  Does  it  not 
bring  the  same  reflection  to  your  necessi- 
ties ? — Why  then  does  not  this  victory  equal- 
ly enliven  and  rejoice  you  ? 

What  would  have  been  the  consequence, 
if  he  had  not  fought ;  if  he  had  not  conquer- 
ed ?  We  should  have  become  a  prey  to  the 
teeth.  And  the  miseries  they  would  have  in- 
flicted upon  us,  infinitely  surpass  all  the  evils 
we  can  endure  from  the  successes  of  our  foes. 
These  combined  enemies  would  have  robbed 


us  of  all  spiritual  liberty  and  property;  of 
every  divine  relation  and  enjoyment:  they 
were  sworn  to  destroy  both  body  and  soul  for 
ever.  "  But  be  of  good  cheer,  He  has  over- 
come the  world  !"  "  The  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah  has  prevailed !"  "  His  right  hand  and 
his  holy  arm  have  gotten  him  the  victory." 
Proclaim  it  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Let 
it  reach,  O  Christian,  every  wretched  corner 
of  thy  trembling  soul. 

"Hell  and  thy  sins  resist  thy  course, 
But  hell  and  sin  are  vanquish'd  foes; 
Thy  Jesus  nailed  them  to  the  cross, 
And  sung  the  triumph  when  he  rose. 

Let  there  be  "  light  in  all  your  dwellings." 
Let  every  tongue  be  filled  with  rapture. 
"  Sing  unto  him,  sing  psalms  unto  him :  talk 
ye  of  all  his  wondrous  works.  Glory  ye  in 
his  holy  name :  let  the  hearts  of  those  rejoice 
that  seek  the  Lord." 

"  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are 
the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings, 
that  publisheth  peace;  that  bringeth  good 
tidings  of  good,  that  publisheth  salvation ;  that 
saith  unto  Zion,  thy  God  reigneth !"  Let  us 
pass  from  the  victory  of  Christ  to  the  victory 
of  the  Christian.  For  the  Christian  is  a  sol- 
dier, and  he  wars  "a  good  warfare."  His 
cause  is  righteous,  his  alliance  is  almighty,  his 
success  is  sure,  and  he  "joys  before  the  Lord 
as  men  rejoice  when  they  divide  the  spoil." 

Nothing  perhaps  strikes  us  more  power- 
fully than  military  grandeur.  Johnson  has 
somewhere  remarked,  that  were  you  in  a 
room  with  a  company  of  philosophers,  and 
there  came  in  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden,  or 
Frederick  the  Great,  every  eye  would  instant- 
ly be  drawn  off  from  the  former,  and  fastened 
on  the  latter.  Indeed  the  glory  that  attends 
the  conqueror  is  so  dazzling,  that  it  unhappily 
prevents  our  observing  sufficiently  the  wicked- 
ness of  his  character,  the  injustice  of  his 
means,  and  wretchedness  of  his  exploits.  But 
it  is  the  moral  hero  the  Scripture  calls  upon 
us  to  admire ;  it  is  the  man  that  subdues  him- 
self. "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  greater 
than  the  mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his  own 
spirit,  than  he  that  taketh  a  city."  There  is 
no  skill  like  this;  no  valour  like  this;  no 
glory  like  this;  no  joy  like  this.  Have  you 
ever  been  enabled  by  Divine  grace  to  subdue 
a  rebellious  passion?  For  instance,  when 
stimulated  to  revenge,  have  you  resisted 
and  "overcome  evil  with  good?"  what  a 
serenity  filled  the  mind?  what  a  delicious 
sensation  of  kindness  spread  through  the 
heart?  It  was  a  proof  by  dignified  feeling, 
that  "  it  is  the  glory  of  a  man  to  pass  by  a 
transgression."  It  was  a  little  approximation 
to  Deity,  to  him,  who  is  "slow  to  anger,  and 
plenteous  in  mercy." 

We  may  say  the  same  of  every  moral  con- 
quest. Such  victory  nothing  can  embitter. 
It  yields  a  pleasure  the  most  pure,  the  most 
generous,  the  most  durable.    It  will  bear 


REFLECTIONS  ON  VICTORY. 


181 


examination  and  review.  It  will  abide  a 
dying  hour.  It  will  live  in  eternity.  It  is 
an  angel  that  brings  the  wreath.  It  is  God 
himself  that  approves  and  applauds.  "He 
that  overcometh  shall  inherit  all  things,  and 
I  will  be  his  God,  and  he  shall  be  my  son." 

Here,  indeed,  the  believer's  victory  is  im- 
perfect: he  will  be  annoyed  even  to  the  end 
of  life ;  and  hence  his  happiness  is  proportion- 
ably  incomplete:  "while  without  are  fight- 
ings, within  are  fears."  But  a  full  and  a  final 
triumph  awaits  him.  The  last  enemy,  (O 
blessed  termination  of  the  war)  the  last  ene- 
my shall  be  destroyed — and  he  shall  "always 
triumph  in  Christ."  "This  corruptible 
must  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal 
must  put  on  immortality.  So  when  this  cor- 
ruptible shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and 
this  mortal  shall  have  put  on  immortality, 
then  shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying  that 
is  written,  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory. 
O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  3  O  grave,  where 
is  thy  victory.  The  sting  of  death  is  sin ;  and 
the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But  thanks  be 
to  God,  which  giveth  us  the  victory,  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Happy  Christian !  the  victory  of  that  day 
shall  never  be  turned  into  mourning.  Thou 
art  more  than  a  conqueror  through  him  that 
loved  thee.  "There  shall  be  no  more  death, 
neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall 
there  be  any  more  pain :  for  the  former  things 
are  passed  away."  "  Sing,  O  daughter  of 
Zion;  shout,  O  Israel;  be  glad  and  rejoice 
with  all  the  heart,  O  daughter  of  Jerusalem. 
The  Lord  hath  taken  away  thy  judgments, 
he  hath  cast  out  thine  enemy :  the  king  of 
Israel,  even  the  Lord,  is  in  the  midst  of  thee : 
thou  shalt  not  see  evil  any  more." 

Are  all  such  victories? 

No,  my  brethren  ! — not  such  are  the  victo- 
ries of  the  young  man,  who  overcomes  the  force 
of  a  pious  education,  the  scruples  of  a  tender 
conscience,  the  admonitions  of  friendship,  the 
restraints  of  fear  and  shame. 

Not  such  are  the  victories  of  the  seducer, 
who  accomplishes,  O  cruel  success !  the  infa- 
my and  ruin  of  innocence  and  weakness;  and 
forces  a  wretched  and  defenceless  being  to 
groan  "  and  I,  whither  shall  I  cause  my  shame 
to  go  i" 

Not  such  are  the  victories  of  the  infidel, 
who  can  boast,  O  hellish  triumph !  of  the 
number  of  victims  whose  principles  he  has 
poisoned,  whose  hearts  he  has  corrupted,  and 
whose  comforts  he  has  destroyed. 

Are  all  such  victories  ]  No,  my  brethren ; 
there  are  some  that  are  attended  with  sorrow. 
And  to  approach  more  nearly  to  the  business 
of  the  day,  such  was  the  victory  of  Joab — 
such,  in  some  respects,  are  all  national  victo- 
ries— and  such,  in  a  memorable  circum- 
stance, is  the  victory  we  are  assembled  to 
improve. 

First.  David  by  the  skill  and  valour  of  his 
16 


troops  under  the  command  of  Joab,  had  gained 
a  complete  victory.  Nothing  could  be  more 
seasonable  or  important.  It  crushed  the  wide- 
spread rebellion,  and  reduced  his  subjects  to 
their  allegiance. — But  behold  the  king,  all 
suspense,  sitting  between  the  two  gates,  wait- 
ing for  intelligence,  two  messengers  run  to 
announce  the  victory.  "  And  Ahimaaz  called, 
and  said  unto  the  king,  All  is  well.  And  he 
fell  down  to  the  earth  upon  his  face  before 
the  king,  and  said,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  thy 
God,  which  hath  delivered  up  the  men  that 
lifted  up  their  hand  against  my  lord  the  king. 
And  the  king  said,  Is  the  young  man  Absalom 
safe  ]  And  Ahimaaz  answered,  When  J  oab  sent 
the  king's  servant,  and  me  thy  servant,  I  saw  a 
great  tumult,  but  I  knew  not  what  it  was." 
"And  behold,  Cushi  came;  and  Cushi  said, 
Tidings,  my  lord  the  king :  for  the  Lord  hath 
avenged  thee  this  day  of  all  them  that  rose  up 
against  thee.  And  the  king  said  unto  Cushi, 
Is  the  young  man  Absalom  safe  ?  And  Cushi 
answered,  The  enemies  of  my  lord  the  king, 
and  all  that  rise  against  thee  to  do  thee  hurt, 
be  as  that  young  man  is."  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  wise  and  delicate  than  the  manner 
in  which  the  truth  was  insinuated — but  like 
a  sword  it  pierced  through  David's  soul.  "  And 
the  king  was  much  moved,  and  went  up  to 
the  chamber  over  the  gate,  and  wept :  and 
as  he  went,  thus  he  said,  O  my  son  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  Absalom !  would  God  I  had 
died  for  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son !" 

David  was  doubtless  in  some  measure  to 
blame.  It  was  surely  wrong  in  him  not  to 
notice  as  they  returned,  the  brave  men  who 
had  jeoparded  their  lives  in  the  high  places 
of  the  field  for  his  safety.  But  O  !  who  can 
help — at  least  what  parent  can  help  excusing, 
if  not  justifying  his  conduct.  David  stood  in 
a  double  relation.  He  was  not  only  the  king, 
but  the  father.  And  though  Absalom  had 
been  undutiful,  still — he  was  a  child — and 
for  children  to  be  cut  off,  not  only  in  the  midst 
of  his  days — but  in  the  midst  of  his  sins ! 
Excuse  David  or  condemn,  the  event  was  the 
same — "  The  people  gat  them  by  stealth  that 
day  into  the  city,  as  people  being  ashamed 
steal  away  when  they  flee  in  battle  ;  and  the 
victory  that  day  was  turned  into  mourning." 

And,  secondly,  my  brethren,  this  is  true  in 
some  respects  of  every  national  victory.  In 
order  to  see  this,  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  se- 
parate off  the  utility,  and  also  what  is  called 
the  glory  of  the  business,  and  contemplate  the 
circumstances  that  attend  it,  and  the  effects 
that  follow  it.  Many  of  these  indeed  are  ne- 
ver published,  and  some  of  them  cannot  ea- 
sily be  imagined.  But  without  difficulty  we 
may  apprehend  more  than  enough  to  verify 
our  observation.  When  a  victory  is  obtained 
on  land,  why — I  use  the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture— "  the  land  mourns,"  "  the  earth  lan- 
guished :"  fields  are  ravaged,  fences  are  laid 
waste,  houses  are  demolished  ;  and  a  garden 


182  REFLECTIONS 

of  Eden  is  trampled  into  a  wilderness. 
There  is  often  also  much  slaughter  among 
the  brute  creation,  especially  in  the  useful, 
the  generous  horse.  And  "  God  takes  care 
for  oxen,"  and  tenderly  mentions  the  loss  of 
very  much  cattle  in  the  destruction  of  Nine- 
veh. But  let  us  refer  to  our  own  species  only. 

Mournful  is  the  infliction  of  pain — while 
thousands  are  agonizing  and  groaning  toge- 
ther, and  not  a  few  long  left  with  their  wounds 
bleeding  and  undressed. 

Mournful  is  the  loss  of  limbs.  How  we 
feel  when  a  neighbour  by  disease  or  accident 
is  compelled  to  submit  to  a  single  amputation ! 
How  we  are  affected,  even  to  this  hour,  with 
the  case  of  Mephibosheth.  Poor  babe ! — His 
nurse  hearing  the  approach  of  battle,  fled, 
and  he  dropped  from  her  frighted  arms,  and 
became  "  lame  in  both  his  feet."  But  how 
many  individuals  by  one  action  are  maimed 
and  return  home  leaving  parts  of  themselves 
behind  moving  or  carried  about,  mangled  and 
dismembered ;  one  without  an  eye,  another 
without  an  arm,  and  so  of  the  rest. 

Mournful  is  the  loss  of  lives.  For  where  is 
the  human  being  that  is  not  of  importance  to 
some  one  1 — On  the  late  news,  Edinburgh 
was  illuminated  ;  but  not  entirely :  one  street 
refused  its  lustre — in  this  lived  the  widowed 
wife  of  the  gallant  Captain  Duff.  It  was  a 
striking  exception.  Darkness  best  suited  an 
anguished  mind,  whose  hope  was  fled.  But 
social  attachments  and  usefulness  do  not  de- 
pend upon  rank  and  office.  How  many  a 
poor  widow  in  Spain,  in  France,  in  England, 
whose  name  will  never  be  announced  in  the 
public  papers,  is  now  weeping  over  a  husband 
she  will  see  no  more !  How  many  a  child 
is  at  this  hour  crying,  "  my  father,  my  fa- 
ther." 

Mournful  above  all  is  the  loss  of  souls. 
We  are  far  from  supposing  that  all  warfare 
is  unlawful ;  and  that  a  good  man  cannot  be 
a  soldier.  Who  has  not  read  the  life  of  Col. 
Gardiner  slain  by  the  rebels  in  the  battle  of 
Preston  Pans.  Was  there  ever  a  mind  more 
purely  and  ardently  pious"!  And  blessed  be 
God,  we  have  a  few  centurions  "  devout 
men,  and  who  fear  God  with  all  their  house." 
A  man  may  ascend  to  heaven  from  the  field 
of  battle. — But  the  moral  state  of  armies  and 
navies  is  too  well  known  to  be  a  secret.  At 
any  time  the  generality  of  those  that  compose 
them  are  ill  prepared  to  die.  How  dreadfully 
affecting  then  is  it  to  think  of  so  many  of  our 
fellow-creatures  being  cut  off  in  a  moment, 
and  sent,  with  all  their  sins  upon  them,  to  ap- 
pear before  the  Judge  of  all ! — So  many  ways 
is  victory  turned  into  mourning. 

But  let  us  finally  observe  whether  there  be 
nothing  to  render  our  remark  significantly 
true  on  the  present  occasion.  Let  none 
imagine  that  we  are  going  to  depreciate  the 
value  of  the  victory  with  which  Providence 
has  crowned  his  majesty's  arms,  and  which 


ON  VICTORY. 

we  are  assembled  to  acknowledge.  Never 
was  there  a  victory  more  seasonable.  Never 
was  there  a  victory  more  complete.  Never 
was  there  a  victory  more  wonderful,  when 
we  consider  the  number  of  ships  compelled 
to  strike  to  such  an  inferior  force ;  the  anni- 
hilation of  so  large  a  portion  of  the  naval 
power  of  the  enemy  at  a  blow  ;  the  preser- 
vation of  our  own  vessels  through  the  tre- 
mendous gales  that  rendered  it  necessary  to 
destroy  so  many  of  the  prizes.  As  a  victory 
was  never  more  bravely  won,  so  never  was 
there  a  victory  more  modestly,  more  piously 
announced.  In  perusing  the  dispatch,  we 
seem  to  be  reading  the  language  of  a  divine, 
and  the  gazette  charms  us  as  well  as  the  re- 
sult of  the  battle.  O  my  country!  were 
this  the  disposition  of  all  thy  sons ;  were  all 
thy  rulers,  thy  magistrates,  thy  officers,  thus 
boldly  and  openly  to  acknowledge  God  in 
all  their  ways,  and  to  walk  before  others 
in  the  profession  of  truth,  and  the  practice 
of  devotion—  we  need  "  not  fear :  what 
can  man  do  unto  us  I"  Never  was  there  a 
victory  more  important.  Events  have  in- 
deed since  taken  place  which  have  not 
only  distressed,  but  alarmed  many.  The 
strides  of  the  enemy  in  Germany  have  been 
rapid  and  discouraging.  But  not  to  observe 
that  his  situation  every  day  seems  to  become 
more  critical,  and  that  in  that  corner  too  at 
"  eventide  it  may  be  light,"  we  should  re- 
member that  all  the  continental  successes  of 
the  enemy  add  to  the  importance  of  our  vic- 
tory ;  for  if  we  are  to  be  deprived  of  other 
resources  of  assistance,  and  compelled  under 
God  to  depend  alone  upon  ourselves,  every 
reduction  of  their  means  of  annoyance  and 
invasion,  becomes,  in  the  same  proportion, 
more  valuable. 

But  still  we  acknowledge  that  the  more 
difficult  the  period  is,  the  more  need  have 
we  of  extraordinary  wisdom,  decision,  and 
courage.  Frequently  much,  yea  every  thing 
depends  on  one  man  into  whom  nature  has 
infused  those  elements  of  greatness  which 
events  combine,  draw  forth,  and  complete. 
And  such  a  man  was  our  departed  hero.  It 
cannot  be  denied — that  a  man  who  was  a  host 
in  himself ;  a  man  whose  very  name  struck 
terror  into  the  foe ;  a  man  whose  success  in- 
spired the  most  absolute  confidence  in  those 
he  commanded,  and  whose  orders  would 
stimulate  them  to  the  most  dangerous  enter- 
prises— no — it  cannot  be  denied  that,  in  the 
present  circumstances  of  our  country — that 
such  a  man  can  ill  be  spared :  and  therefore 
that  though  our  success  has  been  glorious,  it 
has  demanded  a  costly  sacrifice. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  the  ship  in  which  he 
fell  was  The  Victory,  and  thus  the  words 
we  have  chosen  were  circumstantially  ac- 
complished: "the  victory  was  turned  that 
day  into  mourning :"  the  cabin  boy  and  the 
captain  wept;  the  groan  spread  from  the 


REFLECTIONS 

ship  through  the  whole  fleet:  villages  and 
cities  shared  the  grief ;  till  the  tears  of  the 
sovereign  blended  and  mingled  with  those 
of  the  people. — Nelson,  farewell !  Thou 
hast  more  than  repaid  the  confidence  thy 
king  and  thy  country  reposed  in  thy  patriot- 
ism and  thy  talents.  Thy  warfare  is  accom- 
plished— but  long  shall  thy  fame  live;  long 
shall  thy  example  stimulate.  Thy  memory 
shall  be  embalmed  in  our  grateful  affections; 
and  history  shall  record,  that  a  whole  nation, 
sensible  of  their  obligations  to  thee,  by  their 
presence  or  their  sympathy  attended  thy 
funeral,  and  followed  thy  awful  remains  to 
their  august  and  final  abode. 

 What  then,  you  say ;  what  is  it  that 

you  wish  from  us  on  the  present  occasion  ? — 
Are  we  not  called  together  to  rejoice,  and  do 
you  expect  us  to  mourn  1  Not  absolutely. — 
I  would  wish  even  to  inspire  you  with  joy. 
There  is  nothing  more  hateful  than  a  certain 
disposition  that  curdles  every  thing  it  touches. 
There  are  some  fretful  beings  that  sour  every 
enjoyment  by  discontent.  Mention  any  thing 
joyous — and  their  evil  genius  looks  only 
after  exceptions ;  speak  of  any  thing  com- 
commendable — and  their  sagacity  is  exerted 
to  make  deductions.  They  never  fix  upon 
pleasing  and  cheerful  circumstances,  but 
turn  round  the  dark  side  of  every  object,  till 
they  are  surrounded  only  with  gloomy  aspects, 
and  become  a  burden  to  themselves  and  a 
kind  of  terror  to  their  connexions. 

Be  not  ye  like  unto  them.  Be  not  insen- 
sible to  the  numberless  blessings  we  enjoy, 
or  regardless  of  the  several  hopeful  indica- 
tions that  brighten  our  condition.  Rejoice, 
therefore,  but  let  your  joy  be  tempered. 

First,  with  seriousness.  Indeed  the  times 
require  it.  God  has  absolutely  a  controversy 
with  us.  Our  difficulties  are  great  and  in- 
creasing. We  are  engaged  with  a  foe 
formidable  by  his  means  and  malice.  Our 
sins  testify  against  us.  And  to  this  hour, 
neither  the  displays  of  his  wrath  nor  his 
mercy  have  made  any  due  impression  upon 
the  public  mind.  "  Shall  I  not  visit  for  these 
things,  saith  the  Lord  ?  Shall  not  my  soul 
be  avenged  on  such  a  nation  as  this !"  Is  it 
not  as  true  of  nations  as  of  individuals  ]  "  He 
that  being  often  reproved  hardeneth  his  neck 
shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that  with- 
out remedy."  Where  now  are  the  empires 
of  antiquity]  Where  now  are  the  famous 
churches  of  Asia  1  Where  are  his  once  pe- 
culiar people,  the  Jews  ? — "  And  if  he  spared 
not  the  natural  branches,  take  heed,  lest  he 
spare  not  thee." 

Secondly,  with  prayer.  Every  thing  de- 
pends upon  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  It  is  as  easy 
for  him  to  help  with  few,  as  with  many ;  we 
should  therefore  never  despair.  On  the 
other  hand,  without  him  "  vain  is  the  help  of 
man."  Vain  are  the  best  appointed  and  com- 
manded armies  and  navies.    He  can  take 


ON  VICTORY.  183 

wisdom  from  the  wise,  and  courage  from  the 
brave.  Sickness  is  his,  and  dissention.  "He 
holds  the  winds  in  his  fist ;"  let  him  open  his 
hand,  and  the  storm  roars,  and  our  defence 
sinks  like  lead  in  the  mighty  waters.  And 
prayer  has  power  with  God,  especially  the 
prayer  of  those  that  love  and  fear  him.  The 
Bible  is  a  history  of  its  exploits.  But  no- 
thing is  more  suitable  or  encouraging  than 
the  fate  of  Sennacherib.  He  had  overrun 
many  countries;  and  going  from  conquering 
to  conquer,  ascribed  all  his  surprising  success 
to  the  wisdom  of  his  own  understanding, 
and  the  vigour  of  his  own  arm.  He  poured 
into  Judea.  Every  thing  seemed  to  give 
way  before  him — and  he  deemed  himself 
perfectly  sure  of  taking  Jerusalem.  But 
Hezekiah  discomfited  him — not  by  fighting — 
but  praying.  He  went  up  into  the  temple, 
and  spread  the  letter  before  the  Lord,  and  his 
vast  army  dispersed  and  disappeared,  like 
chaff  before  the  wind.  "Trust  in  him  at  all 
times,  ye  people  pour  out  your  hearts  before 
him ;  God  is  a  refuge  for  us." 

Thirdly,  with  praise;  that  praise  that  will 
pass  by  instrumentality,  and  confess  the  hand 
of  God ;  that  praise  that  will  ascribe  nothing 
to  our  worthiness,  but  all  his  undeserved 
goodness.  Had  he  dealt  with  us  after  our 
sins,  or  rewarded  us  according  to  our  iniqui- 
ties, instead  of  saying  "  the  Lord  hath  done 
great  things  for  us,  whereof  we  are  glad,"  we 
should  now  be  sitting  in  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
"  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto 
thy  name  give  glory,  for  thy  mercy,  and  for 
thy  truth's  sake." 

And  surely,  my  dear  hearers,  we  cannot 
suppose  that  we  have  done  justice  to  the  de- 
sign of  the  day,  by  indulging  a  warm,  mo- 
mentary impression  or  exclamation.  This  is 
only  to  imitate  the  Jews,  of  whom  it  is  com- 
plained, "he  saved  them  from  the  hand  of 
them  that  hated  them,  and  redeemed  them 
from  the  hand  of  the  enemy.  And  the  wa- 
ters covered  their  enemies:  there  was  not 
one  of  them  left.  Then  believed  they  his 
words;  they  sang  his  praise.  They  soon 
forgat  his  works,  they  waited  not  for  his 
counsel."  Let  us  "keep  these  things  for 
ever  in  the  imaginations  of  our  thoughts,  and 
prepare  our  hearts  to  seek  God."  Let  us 
daily  ask,  "  what  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord 
for  all  his  benefits  towards  me  1"  And  let  us 
consecrate  to  him  our  time,  our  talents,  and 
our  property. 

For  in  the  last  place  we  require  you  to 
blend  with  your  joy,  beneficence.  "  Let  all 
your  works,"  says  the  apostle,  "  be  done  with 
charity." — What  said  Isaiah  of  a  fast !  "  Is  not 
this  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  to  loose  the 
bands  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy  bur- 
dens, and  to  let  the  oppressed  go  free,  and 
that  ye  break  every  yoke !  Is  it  not  to  deal 
thy  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  that  thou  bring 
I  the  poor  that  are  cast  out  to  thy  house  1  when 


REFLECTIONS  ON  VICTORY. 


184 

thou  seest  the  naked,  that  thou  cover  him ; 
and  that  thou  hide  not  thyself  from  thine  own 
flesh  J"  And  what  said  Nehemiah  to  the  peo- 
ple upon  a  festival  1  "  This  day  is  holy  unto 
the  Lord  your  God,  mourn  not  nor  weep.  Go 
your  way,  eat  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet, 

AND  SEND  PORTIONS  UNTO  THEM  FOR  WHOM 
NOTHING  IS  PREPARED." 

Men  and  brethren.  It  is  scarcely  necessary 
for  me  to  mention  the  particular  purpose, 
for  which  your  liberality  is  to  be  exercised 
this  morning'.  You  well  know  that  a  col- 
lection is  voluntarily  to  be  made  this  day, 
through  the  whole  kingdom,  for  the  relief  of 
the  families  of  those  who  suffered  in  the  late 

action.  While  all  our  fellow-citizens  are 

coming  forward,  I  am  sure  this  congregation 
will  readily  co-operate  with  them.  The  claim 
made  upon  you,  is  a  claim  of  humanity,  of 
gratitude,  of  justice.  It  addresses  you  as 
Christians,  as  Britons,  as  men.    Suppose  all 


these  victims  of  bereavement  were  now  as- 
sembled before  you,  dressed  in  mourning,  and 
wiping  their  weeping  eyes. — Could  you  be 
insensible "! 

Ah,  ye  brave  countrymen,  who  fought  to 
defend  us,  and  who  generously  perished  that 
we  may  continue  in  the  possession  of  all  our 
comforts — ye,  descending  wounded  and  gory 
into  your  watery  graves — ye — ye  said  "  we 
lament  not  our  own  destiny ;  we  have  fallen 
at  our  post — But  to  you  we  commend  our 
mothers,  our  wives,  our  children,  our  babes. 
Deprived  for  ever  of  our  support,  let  them 
find  succour  in  you."  Valiant  sailors !  there 
is  not  a  British  heart  but  awakes  and  melts 
at  your  call.  Ye  have  indeed  done  your  duty ; 
and  we  hasten  to  perform  ours. 

"  Pure  and  undefiled  religion  before  God 
and  the  Father  is  this,  to  visit  the  fatherless 
and  the  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
ourselves  unspotted  from  the  world  !" 


AN 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE, 

OR, 


THE  DUTY  OF  CHRISTIANS  TO  MARRY  RELIGIOUSLY : 


WITH  A  FEW  REFLECTIONS  ON  IMPRUDENT  MARRIAGES. 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


THE  SECOND  EDITION. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

We,  the  ministers  of  the  Wiltshire  Association,  assembled  together  at  Melksham  this  day, 
October  22,  1806, — deploring  the  little  regard  of  late  years  paid  by  too  many  professors 
of  religion,  to  the  Christian  rule  of  marriage:  and  deeming  it  desirable  that  the  attention  of 
the  public  in  general,  and  our  own  churches  in  particular,  should  be  called  to  this  subject, 
do  unanimously  request  the  Rev.  Wm.  Jay  to  publish  some  strictures  upon  it ;  and  the  more 
so,  as  he  has  already  set  forth  a  Sermon  on  the  Duties  of  Husbands  and  Wives,  which  has 
met  with  great  acceptance. 

Signed, 

On  behalf  of  the  Association, 

George  Mantel,  Chairman. 


ESSA 

SECTION  I. 

The  peculiarity  and  importance  of  the  Mar- 
riage relation.  The  possibility  of  kndiving 
the  -will  of  God  in  this  affair.  The  law  laid 
down. 

How  wonderful  is  it,  that  two  persons,  who 
perhaps  never  met  before,  should,  by  a  train 
of  circumstances  be  brought  together,  obtain 
a  peculiar  propriety  in  each  other,  and  form 
one  absolute  communion  of  wishes,  joys,  and 
sorrows. 

If  we  compare  this  relation  with  other  con- 
nexions, we  shall  find  that  it  surpasses  them 
all. — Are  other  unions  optional  ?  They  may 
be  limited  in  their  continuance,  or  terminated 
at  pleasure.  But  this  is  permanent,  and  in- 
dissoluble. You  cannot  marry  for  a  given 
period.  It  is  for  life. — Are  other  unions 
natural?  Intimate  indeed  is  the  relation  be- 
2  A  16* 


Y,  &c. 

tween  brother  and  sister :  tender  is  the  rela- 
tion between  parents  and  children,  especially 
between  the  mother  and  the  son  of  her  womb. 
But  for  this  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and 
mother,  and  shall  be  joined  unto  his  wife,  and 
they  two  shall  be  one  flesh.  What  God  hath 
joined  together,  let  no  man  put  asunder. 

The  marriage  connexion  therefore,  is  the 
most  singular,  and  the  most  important.  Hence, 
it  can  never  be  viewed  with  indifference.  It 
cannot  be  carelessly  contemplated  by  legisla- 
tors, by  politicians,  by  moralists,  by  divines — 
And  can  it  be  slightingly  regarded  by  the  in- 
dividuals themselves?  The  effects  extend  to 
families  and  communities — but  how  much 
more  powerfully  must  the  consequences  affect 
the  parties  immediately  concerned  1 — can  the 
Scripture,  always  alive  to  the  welfare  of  man 
— Can  the  Scripture  pass  by  such  a  relation  ? 
Impossible !  It  shows  us  its  divine  institution 
185 


186 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


and  benediction  in  Paradise.  It  shows  us  our 
Saviour  gracing  with  his  presence  the  cele- 
bration of  a  marriage  at  Cana  in  Galilee,  and 
displaying  his  glory  by  working  a  miracle  to 
preserve  the  new-married  couple  from  em- 
barrassment and  mortification.  It  shows  us 
in  this  condition,  characters  the  most  emi- 
nent and  distinguished  for  piety  and  useful- 
ness ;  witness  Enoch,  and  Peter,  and  James, 
and  John.  It  brands  with  infamy  the  doc- 
trine that  forbids  to  marry.  It  often  employs 
the  connexion  as  the  image  of  the  union  sub- 
sisting between  Christ  and  the  church.  It 
assures  us  that  marraige  is  honourable  in  all, 
and  the  bed  undefiled :  but  whoremongers  and 
adulterers  God  will  judge. 

It  is  obvious  therefore  that  the  Scripture 
is  far  from  discouraging  marriage.  But  what 
it  does  not  condemn,  it  is  careful  to  regulate. 
Let  us  then,  my  Christian  friends,  look  after 
the  will  of  God  in  this  momentous  and  inter- 
esting subject. 

If  ever  we  err,  it  is  not  from  any  defect  in 
the  Scripture,  but  because  there  is  some 
occasion  of  stumbling  in  us :  some  inatten- 
tion that  hinders  examination,  or  some  pre- 
judice that  perverts  it.  His  word  is  a  lamp 
unto  our  feet,  and  a  light  unto  our  paths. 
There  is  a  sufficiency  in  it  for  all  the  useful 
purposes  of  life  and  godliness.  Can  a  man 
ask  at  these  lively  oracles  how  he  is  to  con- 
duct himself  in  prosperity  or  adversity ;  can 
he  inquire  how  he  is  to  govern  his  family, 
and  train  up  his  children  and  be  at  a  loss  for 
an  answer  1  He  may  run  that  readeth.  So 
it  is  in  the  case  before  us.  If  Christians  are 
really  desirous  of  knowing  with  whom  in 
marriage  alliance  they  are  to  unite  them- 
selves, we  make  no  scruple  to  say,  the  reveal- 
ed will  of  God  is  decisive  and  clear:  It  re- 
stricts their  choice  to  religious  character 
only. 


SECTION  n. 

This  Laiv  argued  and  established. 

If  nothing  express  had  been  said  on  this 
subject,  the  conclusion  might  fairly  have 
been  drawn  from  these  general  commands, 
which  forbid  all  chosen  and  needless  associa- 
tion with  the  irreligious  founded  on  the  dan- 
ger of  contamination. 

The  case  may  be  confirmed  in  no  incon- 
siderable degree  from  the  state  of  the  Jews. 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  mention,  that  the 
Jews  were  forbidden  to  marry  with  the  sur- 
rounding nations.  But  it  may  be  proper  to 
state  two  objections. 

First.  It  may  be  said  that  the  prohibition 
was  confined  to  the  seven  accursed  nations 
of  Canaan.  But  this  was  not  the  case.  Am- 
monites, Moabites,  and  Egyptians  are  reckon- 
ed by  Ezra,  among  these  from  whom  the  re- 
turned Israelites  were  to  be  separated ;  and 


none  of  these  belonged  to  the  race  thus  de- 
voted to  extermination. 

Secondly.  It  may  be  supposed  that  this 
law  was  political,  and  regarded  this  people 
only  in  their  civil  and  national  capacity. 
But  the  futility  of  this  will  be  demonstrated 
by  remarking,  First,  that  they  were  allow- 
ed to  marry  with  individuals  of  any  of  the 
neighbouring  countries,  when  they  became 
proselytes.  This  shows  that  the  interdic- 
tion regarded  not  their  nation  but  their  re- 
ligion. And  secondly,  that  the  reason  always 
assigned  as  the  ground  of  the  prohibition  is 
not  political  but  moral — and  therefore  uni- 
versally and  constantly  binding.  Thus  we 
find  Moses  saying  "  neither  shalt  thou  make 
marriages  with  them;  thy  daughter  thou 
shalt  not  give  unto  his  son,  nor  his  daughter 
shalt  thou  take  unto  thy  son.  For  they  will 
turn  away  thy  son  from  following  me,  that 
they  may  serve  other  gods;  so  will  the 
anger  of  the  Lord  be  kindled  against  you, 
and  destroy  thee  suddenly." 

But  to  come  nearer.  Have  we  not  in  the 
New  Testament  a  prohibition  the  most  ex- 
plicit !  Be  ye  not  unequally  yoked  together 
with  unbelievers.  We  are  aware  that  some 
are  disposed  to  take  this  Scripture  in  a  larger 
sense,  as  forbidding  to  join  with  such  persons 
in  church  communion.  But  in  answer  to 
this — not  to  remark,  what  we  think  cannot 
be  denied,  that  the  expression  of  yoke-fellow 
is  more  used  in  reference  to  marriage  than 
to  church  communion :  the  former  application 
of  it  being  the  natural  and  original,  the  latter 
of  course  only  the  borrowed  and  secondary ; 
I  say  not  to  avail  ourselves  of  this  circum- 
stance, we  observe,  that  we  have  nothing  to 
fear  from  admitting  the  explanation  proposed. 
For  if  Christians  are  forbidden  to  join  with 
unbelievers  in  church  communion,  surely 
they  are  equally  enjoined  not  to  enter  with 
them  into  marriage  contract.  What !  were 
the  converted  Corinthians  commanded  to 
come  out  from  among  them :  and  yet  be  per- 
mitted to  enter  into  the  closest  affinity  with 
them  ]  Were  they  ordered  to  be  separate, 
and  not  to  touch  the  unclean  thing :  and  yet 
be  allowed  to  become  one  body  1  Was  there 
to  be  no  fellowship  between  righteousness 
and  unrighteousness,  between  light  and  dark- 
ness: and  yet  were  these  to  be  united  for 
ever'!  Was  he  that  belie veth  to  have  no 
part  with  an  infidel,  and  yet  suffer  them  to 
be  partners  for  life  1  Was  the  temple  of 
God  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  idols,  and  yet 
were  idols  to  be  set  up  within  its  walls] 

But  if  this  be  not  deemed  sufficient  to 
establish  our  doctrine,  let  us  attend  to  the 
language  of  the  Apostle,  when  speaking  ex- 
pressly of  marriage.  "The  wife,"  says  he, 
"  is  bound  by  the  law  as  long  as  her  husband 
liveth;  but  if  her  husband  be  dead,  she  is  at 
liberty  to  be  married  to  whom  she  will;  only 
in  the  Lord."    Now  though  this  be  stated, 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


187 


as  the  occasion  of  the  words  required,  in 
reference  to  a  widow,  the  limitation  unques- 
tionably extends  to  all  Christians  in  the  same 
relative  circumstances.  This  then  is  the  law 
of  the  house.  This  is  the  indispensable  con- 
sideration.— Only  in  the  Lord. — Thus  the 
will  of  God  is  fully  made  known,  and  there 
are  two  things  we  ought  to  remark  with  re- 
gard to  it. 

First.  He  cannot  err  in  his  decision.  His 
judgment  is  always  according  to  truth.  His 
understanding  is  infinite.  He  views  a  sub- 
ject in  all  its  bearings,  in  all  its  consequen- 
ces, in  all  the  possibilities  of  its  operation. 
He  sees  effects  in  their  causes.  He  knows 
the  end  from  the  beginning.  He  perceives 
how  we  should  think,  feel,  and  act  in  every 
untried  state  of  being.  How  qualified  there- 
fore is  he  to  undertake  to  direct  us  1  And  to 
what  implicit  respect  and  absolute  compli- 
ance is  the  determination  of  such  an  adviser 
entitled'! 

But  secondly,  we  should  remember  that 
his  council  is  not  advice  but  command.  Con- 
sidered indeed  as  speaking  from  a  regard  to 
our  welfare,  a  love  to  our  souls — he  is  the 
friendly  monitor,  but  as  to  our  obligation  to 
obey,  and  the  danger  we  incur  by  transgres- 
sion— there  he  is  nothing  less  than  a  Sove- 
reign. It  is  at  your  peril,  to  cast  any  of  his 
words  behind  your  back.  See  that  ye  refuse 
not  him  that  speaketh. 


SECTION  III. 

The  evils  of  transgressing  it  variously  viewed. 

If  people  were  as  easily  satisfied  in  receiv- 
ing truth  as  they  are  in  opposing  it ;  if  no 
more  was  needful  to  influence  practice  than 
to  produce  conviction,  it  might  be  unneces- 
sary to  enlarge  after  the  adduction  of  the 
preceding  arguments.  But  alas  !  in  spiritual 
concerns,  men  venture  their  souls  on  such 
trifling  evidence,  as,  were  it  to  govern  them 
in  their  temporal  affairs,  would  lead  their 
fellow-creatures  to  conclude  that  they  were 
either  madmen  or  idiots.  Here  we  need 
line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept.  Let 
us  then  specify  some  of  the  disadvantages 
and  injuries  that  arise  from  an  infraction  of 
this  law  among  professors  of  religion.  And 
here  we  may  observe, 

— That  it  scandalizes  others.  It  counter- 
acts, discourages,  and  confounds  ministers. 
It  injures  the  minds  of  your  fellow-Christians. 
It  proves  a  distress  to  the  strong  and  a  stum- 
bling-block to  the  weak.  It  turns  that  which 
is  lame  out  of  the  way.  To  your  pious  rela- 
tions it  occasions  the  most  painful  regret  and 
anxiety.  "  And  Esau  was  forty  years  old 
when  he  took  to  wife  Judith  the  daughter  of 
Beeri  the  Hittite,  and  Bashemath  the  daugh- 
ter of  Elon  the  Hittite :  which  were  a  grief 
of  mind  unto  Isaac  and  to  Rebekah."    "  And 


Rebekah  said  to  Isaac,  I  am  weary  of  my  life, 
because  of  the  daughters  of  Heth  :  if  Jacob 
take  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of  Heth,  such  as 
these  which  are  of  the  daughters  of  the  land, 
what  good  shall  my  life  do  me  V 

— It  excites  suspicion  of  your  own  religion. 
At  least  it  shows  that  you  are  not  alive  to  its 
principles  and  privileges:  that  if  you  ask  its 
advice  you  can  follow  your  own  opinion  ;  and 
that  if  you  profess  to  please  it,  you  are  not 
afraid  to  offend  it.  Would  you  marry  an  ene- 
my of  your  own,  before  you  believed  there 
was  a  change  of  disposition  wrought  in  him  1 
And  why]  Because  you  love  yourselves — 
this  would  prevent  it.  And  if  the  love  of  God 
prevailed  in  your  hearts,  would  you  marry  an 
enemy  to  God  before  you  discerned  in  him  an 
evidence  of  conversion.  Do  not  I  hate  them, 
O  Lord,  that  hate  thee,  and  am  not  I  grieved 
with  those  that  rise  up  against  thee  1  I  hate 
them  with  perfect  hatred.  I  count  them  mine 
enemies.  What  do  ye  more  than  others  1 
Should  not  the  line  of  distinction  between  the 
church  and  the  world  be  not  only  real  but 
visible]  Should  not  the  Christian  univer- 
sally appear  1  Are  not  his  choice  and  refusal, 
as  well  as  his  sorrow  and  joy,  to  evince  the 
empire  of  religion]  Whatsoever  ye  do,  in 
word  or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus.  Whether  therefore  ye  eat  or  drink,  or 
whatever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God. 
These  are  the  injunctions  of  God.  And  we 
are  to  esteem  all  his  commandments  concern- 
ing all  things  to  be  right,  and  to  hate  every 
false  way. 

Again.  We  call  upon  you  to  remember 
the  duties  enjoined  upon  Christians  with  re- 
gard to  their  households.  The  discharge  of 
these  duties  in  married  life  requires  union, 
countenance,  assistance.  They  cannot  be 
performed  to  advantage,  if  at  all,  where  in  the 
heads  of  the  family,  there  is  a  contrariety  of 
convictions,  dispositions,  and  pursuits.  Peter 
therefore  enforces  his  admonition  upon  hus- 
bands and  wives  by  this  motive,  that  your 
prayers  be  not  hindered.  For,  imagine  the 
case  we  are  condemning.  Does  the  man 
seek  the  glory  of  God  in  all  he  does,  and  the 
woman  her  own  glory.  Does  the  woman 
make  the  will  of  God  her  rule,  and  the  man 
his  own  will]  Instead  of  striving  together, 
they  draw  adversely,  and  the  design  of  the 
union  is  defeated.  Are  there  children  ]  Some 
will  be  likely  to  adhere  to  the  father,  some  to 
the  mother.  Are  there  servants!  Some 
will  be  likely  to  attach  themselves  to  the 
master,  some  to  the  mistress.  Thus  the 
household  and  wife  will  probably  keep  a  per- 
petual watch  over  each  other,  unwilling  to 
lose  any  of  their  respective  influence ;  and  the 
house  will  be  divided  against  itself. 

We  observe  also,  that  we  personally  need 
every  assistance  we  can  receive  in  our  pas- 
sage to  heaven.  There  is  surely  enough  in 
ourselves,  and  in  the  way  we  travel,  to  keep 


188  ESSAY  ON 

us  back,  without  engaging  any  one  constantly 
to  retard  our  progress,  either  by  opposition  or 
.diversion !  What  need  often  have  we  of 
counsel  in  spiritual  darkness  and  doubts  1  of 
comfort  in  soul-trouble  1  of  stimulation,  by  re- 
proof or  example,  in  our  religious  languors  ? 
"  Two  are  better  than  one ;  because  they  have 
a  good  reward  for  their  labour.  For  if  they 
fall,  the  one  will  lift  up  his  fellow :  but  wo 
to  him  that  is  alone  when  he  falleth ;  for  he 
hath  not  another  to  help  him  up."  He  is  a 
friend  indeed  who  knows  the  road,  will  jour- 
ney with  us,  and  afford  us  seasonable  succour : 
but  what  assistance  is  to  be  derived  from  one 
who  has  no  eyes,  or  hands,  or  who  is  going  in 
a  contrary  direction  J  Is  it  enough  when  we 
want  daily  and  hourly  support  that  a  compa- 
nion will  not  try  to  interrupt  us  ] 

For  here — and  this  is  another  consideration 
— here  not  to  help  is  to  hinder.  The  very 
attraction  of  the  mind  from  high  and  holy 
things,  by  continual  discourse  about  other 
subjects,  will  be  no  inconsiderable  detriment. 
For  it  is  by  the  frequent  recurrence  of  divine 
things  in  our  thoughts  and  in  our  conversa- 
tion, that  we  become  spiritually-minded,  and 
continue  so.  Pious  emotions  may  be  starved, 
where  they  are  not  assassinated.  Fire  will 
be  extinguished  immediately  by  water;  but 
it  will  go  out  in  time,  even  for  want  of  fuel. 

But  we  do  not  go  too  far  when  we  say,  that 
an  irreligious  connexion  is  likely  to  prove  the 
most  effectual  instrument  in  the  world  to  in- 
jure us,  not  only  by  weakening  impressions, 
chilling  our  affections,  and  drawing  us  off  by 
degrees  from  various  duties,  but  also  by  per- 
verting the  judgment,  and  enticing  to  sin. 
They  were  mingled  with  the  heathen,  and 
learned  their  works ;  and  they  served  their 
idols  which  became  a  snare  unto  them.  Evil 
communications  corrupt  good  manners.  And 
here  several  additional  things  should  be  se- 
riously considered.    For  instance, 

— The  example  is  near — is  always  in  sight. 

— Evil  has  more  power  over  us  than  good. 
An  oath  when  heard  will  make  a  deeper  im- 
pression than  a  prayer.  Profane  images  are 
more  easily  retained  in  the  mind  than  pure 
ones.  Evil  falls  in  with  our  depravity  ;  and 
always  finds  in  us  a  friend  to  welcome  and  to 
strengthen  it. 

— The  danger  is  greater  if  the  unconverted 
party  be  the  husband,  as  he  has  the  advan- 
tage of  superior  authority  and  influence. 

— The  more  attachment  there  is,  the 
greater  the  hazard  of  moral  injury  :  for  affec- 
tion is  wonderfully  assimilating.  Like  fire, 
it  reduces  every  thing  it  seizes  into  its  own 
nature.  We  are  always  in  a  great  measure 
the  same  v/ith  the  object  of  our  regard.  The 
image  by  its  frequent  entrance  into  the  mind, 
and°by  its  residence  there,  leaves  its  impres- 
sion and  resemblance. 

But  if  you  should  escape  unhurt  morally— 
which  would  be  little  less  than  a  miracle — 


MARRIAGE. 

still  you  may  experience  bitter  trials:  and 
under  these  crosses  you  will  not  be  able  to 
look  up  to  God  for  support  and  deliverance, 
with  the  same  cheerfulness  and  confidence 
you  would  feel,  if  they  were  afflictions  of  his 
sending.— But  you  have  chosen  them. — Hence 
painful  reflections  of  mind.  Hence  you  may 
expect  to  hear  as  the  inquiry  of  conscience, 
and  as  the  censure  of  Providence. — Hast  thou 
not  procured  this  unto  thyself. — Thou  hast 
done  foolishly,  from  henceforth  thou  shalt 
have  wars.  Yea,  something  of  this  kind  must 
be  expected. — "If  my  children  forsake  my 
law,  and  walk  not  in  my  judgments  ;  if  they 
break  my  statutes,  and  keep  not  my  com- 
mandments ;  then  will  I  visit  their  transgres- 
sion with  the  rod,  and  their  iniquity  with 
stripes."  He  has  said,  if  ye  walk  contrary  to 
me,  I  also  will  walk  contrary  to  you.  And 
he  is  a  faithful  God.  And  he  is  able  to  make 
good  his  word.  He  can  take  satisfaction  out 
of  our  chosen  delights.  He  can  remove  them 
in  his  anger.  He  can  leave  them  to  produce 
leanness  in  our  souls.  Though  he  forgives 
the  iniquities  of  his  people,  he  taketh  ven- 
geance on  their  inventions. 

To  which  we  may  add — and  these  are  na- 
tural and  unavoidable  consequences — the 
painful  anxiousness  of  living  with  those  from 
whom  you  fear  that  you  shall  be  separated  for 
ever;  and  the  peculiar  disagreeableness  of 
being  connected  with  those  who  are  incapa- 
ble of  the  principal  part  of  your  affection. 
Love  them  you  may,  indeed,  as  husband  or 
wife  ;  but  not  as  believers ;  not  as  followers 
of  our  Lord,  to  whom  you  are  allied  by 
stronger  ties  than  human,  and  which  can 
never  be  dissolved.  Must  not  this  be  a  vast 
deduction  of  happiness,  a  bitter  ingredient  in 
the  cup ;  a  kind  of  daily  death  1 


SECTION  IV. 
The  mischief  historically  considered. 

We  may  take  another  view  of  the  breach 
of  this  law,  and  see  the  evils  that  resulted 
from  it,  as  natural  effects,  or  as  judgments 
from  God,  as  they  are  held  forth  in  the  Scrip- 
tures of  truth. 

This  was  the  particular  sin  for  which  God 
drowned  the  old  world. 

Some  of  Lot's  daughters  married  in  Sodom, 
and  perished  in  the  overthrow.  Both  Ish- 
mael  and  Esau  married  irreligiously,  and 
both  were  rejected  and  turned  persecutors. 

The  first  blasphemer  that  was  stoned  by 
God's  command,  is  marked  as  an  offspring  of 
one  of  these  marriages — his  mother  had  es- 
poused an  Egyptian. 

The  first  captivity  of  the  Jews,  after  their 
settlement  in  the  Holy  Land,  is  ascribed  to 
this  cause.  The  whole  passage  is  very  in- 
structive. It  is  said  that  the  remains  of  the 
nations  "  were  to  prove  Israel  to  know  whe- 


ESSAY  ON 

ther  they  would  hearken  unto  the  command- 
ment of  the  Lord,  which  he  commanded  their 
fathers  by  the  hand  of  Moses.".  "And  the 
children  of  Israel  dwelt  among'  the  Canaan- 
ites,  Hittites,  and  Amorites,  and  Perizzites, 
and  Hivites,  and  Jebusites:  and  they  took 
their  daughters  to  be  their  wives,  and  gave 
their  daug-hters  to  their  sons,  and  served  their 
gods.  And  the  children  of  Israel  did  evil  in 
the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  forgat  the  Lord 
their  God,  and  served  Baalim,  and  the  groves. 
Therefore  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  hot 
against  Israel,  and  he  sold  them  into  the  hand 
of  Chushan-rishathaim  king  of  Mesopotamia : 
and  the  children  of  Israel  served  Chushan- 
rishathaim  eight  years." 

David  married  the  daughter  of  Talmai, 
king  of  Geshur,  by  whom  he  had  Absalom — 
the  disgrace  and  curse  of  his  family. 

The  case  of  Solomon  is  a  warning  to  all 
ages.  His  son  Rehoboam,  that  lost  the  ten 
tribes,  sprang  from  one  of  these  forbidden 
marriages — his  mother  was  an  Ammonitess. 

The  marriage  of  Ahab  is  thus  awfully  no- 
ticed— "  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  light  thing  for  him  to  walk  in  the  sins  of 
Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat,  that  he  took  to 
wife  Jezebel  the  daughter  of  Ethbaal  king  of 
the  Zidonians,  and  went  and  served  Baal,  and 
worshipped  him."  "  But  there  was  none  like 
unto  Ahab,  which  did  sell  himself  to  work 
wickedness  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  whom 
Jezebel  his  wife  stirred  up." 

What  was  it  that  Ezra  so  grievously  la- 
mented and  so  sharply  reproved]  It  was 
that  "the  holy  seed  had  mingled  themselves 
with  the  people  of  the  land." 

And  what  says  the  zealous  reformer,  Ne- 
hemiah!  "Their  children  spake  half  in  the 
speech  of  Ashdod,  and  could  not  speak  in  the 
Jews'  language,  but  according  to  the  lan- 
guage of  each  people.  And  I  contended  with 
them,  and  cursed  them,  and  smote  certain  of 
them,  and  plucked  off  their  hair,  and  made 
them  swear  by  God,  saying,  Ye  shall  not 
give  your  daughters  unto  their  sons,  nor  take 
their  daughters  unto  your  sons,  or  for  your- 
selves. Did  not  Solomon  king  of  Israel  sin 
by  these  things'!  yet  among  many  nations 
was  there  no  king  like  him,  who  was  beloved 
of  his  God,  and  God  made  him  king  over  all 
Israel :  nevertheless  even  him  did  outlandish 
women  cause  to  sin.  Shall  we  then  hearken 
unto  you  to  do  all  this  great  evil,  to  trans- 
gress against  our  God  in  marrying  strange 
wivesl"  "Now  these  things  were  our  ex- 
amples to  the  intent  we  should  not  lust  after 
all  things  as  they  also  lusted." 


SECTION  V. 

Excuses  to  justify  deviation  from  it  examined. 
In  the  history  of  the  church,  recorded  in 


MARRIAGE.  189 

the  New  Testament,  wo  find  no  instances 
similar  to  those  which  have  been  remarked 
in  the  preceding  chapter.  The  rule  was  too 
clearly  understood,  and  the  reasons  on  which 
it  was  founded  were  too  powerfully  felt  to 
allow  of  its  violation  by  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians :  and  indeed  one  would  suppose  that  a 
godly  character  would  stand  in  need  of  no 
positive  prohibition  in  such  a  case  as  this.  It 
must  be  expected  that  his  very  feelings  would 
secure  him.  For  surely  a  kind  of  violence 
must  be  offered  to  his  dispositions  and  princi- 
ples before  such  a  step  can  be  taken :  accord- 
ingly something  of  this  nature  is  often  plead- 
ed. They  feel  religious  reluctance,  but  speak 
as  if  it  were  to  be  and  must  be.  Let  us  ex- 
amine this,  and  see  whether  it  be  their  fate 
or  their  folly. 

Sometimes  they  plead  peculiar  circum- 
stances, which  seem  to  countenance  it.  As 
this  is  a  very  common  excuse,  and  by  which 
many  are  deluded,  it  demands  some  notice. 
And  for  ever  to  check  all  encouragement 
derived  from  this  quarter,  let  the  following 
things  be  maturely  considered : 

That  such  prognostics  are  rarely,  if  ever, 
remarked,  but  when  they  fall  in  with  our  de- 
termination, or  at  least  with  our  propensity — 
That  when  a  man  receives  not  the  love  of 
the  truth,  God  may  give  him  up  to  strong 
delusion  to  believe  a  lie — That  "  thus  saith 
the  Lord  God ;  Every  man  of  the  house  of 
Israel  that  setteth  up  his  idols  in  his  heart, 
and  putteth  the  stumbling-block  of  his  iniqui- 
ty before  his  face,  and  cometh  to  the  prophet ; 
I  the  Lord  will  answer  him  that  cometh  ac- 
cording to  the  multitude  of  his  idols  ;  that  I 
may  take  the  house  of  Israel  in  their  own 
heart,  because  they  are  all  estranged  from 
me  through  their  idols."  That  after  he  has 
expressly  said  to  Balaam,  go  not,  and  he  finds 
him  still  longing  for  the  enterprise,  he  can 
say,  by  an  irony,  which  the  eager  mind  will 
mistake  for  reality,  go. — That  Jonah  was  de- 
ceived, if  he  supposed  that  when  fleeing  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,  it  was  very  provi- 
dential for  him  to  find  a  vessel  just  ready  to 
sail  for  Tarshish — That  circumstances  and 
events  are  equivocal,  having  occurred  at  dif- 
ferent times  with  the  most  contradictory  as- 
pects— That  the  word  of  God  is  our  only 
guide,  and  that  only  while  walking  by  this 
rule  shall  mercy  and  peace  be  upon  us — That 
we  are  to  lay  stress  on  nothing*  however  sin- 
gular or  striking  that  opposes  the  revealed 
will  of  God— That  the  death  of  the  prophet, 
slain  by  a  lion,  was  written  to  teach  us  this 
very  truth :  he  had  received  an  express  com- 
mand, in  which  he  could  not  be  mistaken; 
and  he  yielded  to  another  specious  sugges- 
tion, as  coming  from  God,  concerning  which 
he  could  not  be  sure. 

But  there  is  another  justification  often 
urged.  It  is  the  prospect  of  being  useful. 
This  also  is  common,  and  has  often  ensnared 


190 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


those  who  ought  to  walk  circumspectly,  not 
as  fools  but  as  wise.  Here  permit  me  to  ask 
you  the  following'  questions : 

Are  we  to  do  evil,  that  good  may  come  ? 
It  is  desirable  for  a  generous  Christian  to 
have  property;  he  will  do  good  with  it:  but 
is  he  to  steal  or  rob  in  order  to  obtain  it  ? 

Is  marriage  to  be  considered  as  one  of  the 
means  of  grace  ?  Is  it  ever  spoken  of  in  the 
Scripture,  as  intended  for  the  conversion  of 
souls  ?  Is  it  any  where  prescribed  for  this 
purpose? 

Promises  and  appearances  may  induce  a 
pleasing  hope  during  the  formation  of  the 
connexion  ;  but  may  not  these  be  very  falla- 
cious ?  To  admit  this,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  the  individual  is  vile  enough  to 
deceive  wilfully  :  yet  this  has  frequently  been 
the  case,  and  a  regard  to  the  forms  of  evan- 
gelical religion  has  been  a  mere  pretence, 
gradually  thrown  off  as  the  inducement  for 
using  it  ceased.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to 
charge  a  man  with  hypocrisy.  There  are 
many  powerful  emotions  that  are  very  sin- 
cere, and  yet  not  durable.  The  mind  may 
be  softened  by  affection,  and  view  every 
thing  in  reference  to  its  favourite  purpose. 
Men  know  not  themselves;  they  are  not 
aware  how  they  may  feel  in  new  and  untried 
situations.  The  godliness  which  they  seem 
even  to  admire  in  the  general  indistinct  no 
tion,  and  while  at  a  distance,  may  become 
very  irksome,  when  brought  near  and  acted 
upon  in  every  instance  of  life.  Yea,  it  must 
be  offensive  at  least  in  all  its  more  spiritual 
parts  and  exercises  to  every  natural  man 
Who  that  is  not  alive  to  his  religious  im- 
provement is  likely  to  love  an  example  that 
continually  admonishes  and  condemns.  Who 
that  is  trying  to  go  to  sleep  loves  a  noise? 
Who  that  wishes  to  remain  in  darkness  can  be 
fond  of  light,  especially  placed  so  near  ? 

Is  it  not  more  consistent  with  a  becoming 
diffidence  of  yourselves,  to  fear  that  you 
should  be  injured  by  the  irreligious,  rather 
than  that  the  irreligious  should  be  benefited 
by  you  ?  We  have  already  shown  the  danger 
of  this  in  fact,  and  which  has  led  an  ingenu- 
ous author  to  remark,  that  he  would  pull  an- 
other out  of  a  pit,  had  need  stand  firm,  or  he 
may  be  pulled  in.  We  have  already  men- 
tioned Solomon.  Whether  Solomon  hoped  to 
bring  over  Pharoah's  daughter  to  worship  the 
true  God,  we  know  not ;  but  we  do  know  that 
she  brought  him  over  to  worship  a  false  one. 
But  we  have  now  to  do  only  with  the  appre- 
hension and  impression  of  this  truth.  Is  it 
consistent  with  humility,  to  suppose  that  you 
can  stand  where  others,  and  some  of  them  far 
superior  to  yourselves,  have  fallen?  Is  it  con- 
sistent with  a  proper  sense  of  your  own  weak- 
ness, to  rush  into  extreme  perils,  confident 
not  only  that  you  shall  be  secure  there,  but 
even  do  good  ?  The  very  imagination  fore- 
bodes ill.    It  looks  like  the  pride  that  goes 


before  destruction,  and  the  haughty  spirit 
that  precedes  a  fall.  Indeed  it  is  righteous 
in  God  to  suffer  us  to  fall,  when  disobeying 
his  command,  we  renounce  his  protection 
and  venture  to  proceed  without  him. 

Again.  As  you  conclude  that  your  com- 
panion being  ungodly,  will  not  be  able  to 
make  you  irreligious,  what  authorizes  you  to 
think  that  your  being  godly  will  be  able  to 
make  him  religious?  Surely,  out  of  your 
own  mouth  you  are  condemned ;  for  the  very 
principle  upon  which  you  proceed  with  re- 
gard to  yourself,  should  reduce  the  confidence 
you  indulge  with  regard  to  him.  If  you  have 
no  fear  that  he  can  impress  and  influence  you, 
you  should  have  no  hope  that  you  can  im- 
press and  influence  him.  If  you  believe  that 
your  love  to  him  will  not  alter  you,  you 
ought  not  to  believe  that  his  love  to  you  will 
alter  him. 

And  do  you  consider  what  human  nature 
is  ?  Do  you  consider  what  real  religion  is  ? 
If  so,  surely  you  would  not  think  so  lightly 
of  accomplishing  the  conversion  of  a  soul  as 
you  now  seem  to  do.  If  the  process  be  so 
easy,  why  are  so  few  converted  at  all  ?  Why 
do  not  all  those  who  have  dear  connexions 
convert  those  whom  they  love  and  by  whom 
they  are  beloved  ? 

But  you  say,  you  do  not  expect  the  result, 
independent  of  God's  influence  and  blessing. 
But  is  not  he  able  to  convert  them  ?  He  is. 
And  we  have  reason  to  believe  he  has  in  some 
cases  employed  his  power.  For  we  cannot 
go  the  length  of  Dr.  Doddridge,  who  has  re- 
marked, that  where  Christians  have  know- 
ingly espoused  irreligious  characters,  he  never 
knew  an  instance  of  the  conversion  of  one  of 
them  afterwards.  But,  I  ask,  would  you  take 
up  an  affair  so  important,  on  a  ground  so  slen- 
der? On  a  mere  possibility  ?  For  probability 
there  is  none.  You  would  not  like  to  marry 
a  condemned  criminal  because  he  may  be 
pardoned  or  reprieved.  God  can  make  a  beg- 
gar a  gentleman,  and  yet  I  presume  you  would 
not  like  to  take  him  on  this  presumption ;  you 
would  rather  reckon  certainly  upon  a  little 
wealth.  Why,  then,  marry  an  unconverted 
sinner,  because  God  may,  because  God  can, 
call  him  by  his  grace  ? 

Besides :  if  the  acceptance  and  success  of 
all  our  endeavours  depend  wholly  upon  his 
favour,  can  it  be  a  rational  way  to  attain  our 
wishes  to  slight  his  authority,  and  to  provoke 
his  anger  by  disobedience? 

But  to  conclude.  Even  if  God  should  over- 
rule such  a  connexion  for  good,  you  will  re- 
member that  this  is  his  work,  and  the  glory . 
belongs  to  him.  It  does  not  prove  that  you 
have  done  right ;  nor  can  it  free  the  mind 
from  distress  in  review.  For  you  cannot  be 
so  ignorant  as  not  to  be  able  to  distinguish 
between  your  unrighteousness,  and  the  divine 
goodness  that  has  thus  blessed  you,  notwith- 
standing all  your  desert. 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


191 


SECTION  VI. 

In  what  cases  this  lata  is  not  broken  ;  though 
both  the  parties  be  not  religious. 

We  have  thus  endeavoured,  by  placing  the 
subject  in  various  points  of  light,  to  prove 
that  Christians,  in  the  business  of  marriage, 
ought  to  confine  their  choice  to  pious  charac- 
ters only.  But  to  relieve  the  minds  of  some 
who  deserve  pity  rather  than  censure,  let  me 
remark  two  or  three  instances  in  which  the 
rule  laid  down  is  not  transgressed. 

First.  It  sometimes  happens  that  both  par- 
ties are  ignorant  of  divine  things  at  the  time 
of  marriage,  and  one  is  called  afterward. 
When  this  is  the  case,  the  blame  does  not 
attach.  But  the  individual  renewed  by  di- 
vine grace,  now  feels  pains  and  anxieties  to 
which  he  was  before  a  stranger.  It  is  the 
nature  of  grace  to  excite  with  a  concern  for 
our  own  welfare  a  concern  for  the  salvation 
of  others,  especially  of  those  to  whom  we  are 
tenderly  connected  by  blood,  friendship,  or 
affinity.  How  can  I  endure  the  thought  of 
being  severed  for  ever  from  her  in  whom  my 
happiness  is  so  much  bound  up  1  How  can 
I  bear,  will  such  an  Esther  say,  to  see  the 
destruction  of  my  kindred  1 — She  will  there- 
fore pray,  and  use  every  persuasive  method 
to  allure.  She  will  endeavour  to  render  her 
religion  lovely  and  attractive.  It  is  what  the 
Scripture  enjoins — "  Ye  wives  be  in  subjection 
to  your  own  husbands ;  that,  if  any  obey  not 
the  word,  they  also  may  without  the  word  be 
won  by  the  conversation  of  the  wives  ;  while 
they  behold  your  chaste  conversation  coupled 
with  fear."  And  for  the  consolation  of  such, 
be  it  remembered,  that  after  a  trial,  and  per- 
haps a  long  one,  of  their  faith  and  patience, 
God  has  frequently  heard  their  petitions  and 
succeeded  their  endeavours.  And  after  per- 
forming religious  exercises  alone,  they  have 
gone  to  the  house  of  God  in  company ;  and 
have  walked  together  as  heirs  of  the  grace 
of  life. 

Secondly.  Persons  may  be  mistaken  after 
due  examination.  Every  thing  admits  of 
counterfeit.  There  is  a  species  imitation  of 
every  Christian  grace  as  well  as  of  every 
moral  virtue.  But  we  are  not  accountable 
for  our  inability  to  read  the  heart.  This  is 
the  prerogative  of  God  only.  By  their  fruits 
we  are  to  know  them.  If  the  profession  be 
fair,  and  the  life  blameless,  there  is  no  objec- 
tion upon  this  ground  to  hinder  choice. 

Thirdly.  There  is  another  case  which 
perhaps  to  some  will  not  carry  the  same  force 
of  conviction.  Yet  we  do  not  express  our- 
selves without  due  deliberation  and  counsel — 
It  is  this.  Two  individuals,  both  at  the  time 
of  promise  destitute  of  religion,  may  solemnly 
pledge  themselves  to  each  other,  and  before 
the  actual  accomplishment  of  the  covenant 
engagement  one  of  them  may  become  pious 
— We  will  suppose  it  to  be  the  man — In  this 


case  we  affirm,  that  he  would  not  be  at  liberty 
to  violate  his  promise  under  the  pretence  of 
looking  out  for  a  character  congenial  with 
his  present  views.  If  some  contend  that 
marriage  be  nothing  more  than  a  civil  con- 
tract, all  must  allow  that  it  is  nothing  less : 
and  not  to  observe  the  coercion  of  the  case — 
not  to  observe  that  the  law  could  enforce  the 
claim — the  insufficiency  of  justifying  a  civil 
offence  by  a  religious  reason — and  the  ridicu- 
lousness of  the  attempt — what  a  dishonour 
would  be  done  to  the  cause  of  the  gospel  by 
such  prevaricating  morality?  For  such  it 
must  appear  to  the  world.  Whereas  we  are 
to  have  our  conversation  honest  among  the 
Gentiles  ;  we  are  not  to  suffer  our  good  to  be 
evil  spoken  of ;  we  are  to  avoid  the  very  ap- 
pearance of  evil — such  is  the  holy  delicacy 
of  the  gospel ! 

This  seems  to  be  one  of  those  cases  in 
which  a  good  man  sweareth  to  his  own  hurt 
and  changeth  not.  And  trying  as  the  scene 
may  be,  if  by  the  consent  of  the  other  party 
he  be  not  honourably  disengaged,  we  should 
advise  him  to  a  plain  strait-forward  policy ; 
and  to  expect  that,  in  a  combination  of  cir- 
cumstances so  peculiarly  providential,  all  will 
be  overruled  for  good,  either  by  way  of  use- 
fulness or  trial. 

And  if  even  this  solemn  consideration  be 
not  sufficient  to  discharge  a  man  honourably 
from  one  to  whom  he  has  contracted  himself 
— Will  any  thing  else  1  Can  any  thing 
else  ?  What !  is  he  to  trifle  with  a  sacred 
engagement,  and  to  wound  the  affections,  the 
respectability,  the  health,  the  peace  of  a  fe- 
male !  because  another  object  comes  in  view 
subsequently  in  his  opinion  more  eligible  for 
person,  for  fortune,  for  address  ?  If  a  man 
wished  to  sink  the  honour  of  religion,  and  to 
disgrace  the  value  of  the  Christian;  how 
much  more  should  it  ever  be  the  ministerial 
character!  he  could  not  take  a  step  that 
would  more  effectually  accomplish  his  purpose. 


SECTION  VII. 

The  disregard  of  this  principle  lamented.  But 
piety,  though  essential  to  choice,  not  sufficient 
alone  to  justify  it.  Ministers  under  peculiar 
obligation  to  marry  discreetly.  Prudence 
needful,  and  recommended. 

Happy  those  who  have  formed  a  union 
founded  in  true  godliness,  the  bonds  of  which 
are  faith  and  love  in  Christ  Jesus.  They  are 
pleasant  in  life,  and  in  death  not  divided. 
But  how  deplorable  is  it  that  this  Christian 
rule  of  marriage  is  so  frequently  trampled 
upon.  The  violation  is  in  the  degree  of  it 
at  least  peculiar  to  our  own  age.  Our  pious 
ancestors,  especially  among  the  non-comfbrm- 
ists,  would  have  been  shocked  at  the  practice, 
as  appears  from  their  invaluable  writings. 
And  I  am  persuaded  it  is  very  much  owing 


192  ESSAY  ON 

to  the  prevalence  of  these  indiscriminate  and 
unhallowed  connexions  that  we  have  fallen 
so  far  short  of  those  men  of  God  who  are 
gone  before  us,  in  our  seclusion  from  the 
world,  in  the  simplicity  of  our  manners,  in  the 
uniformity  of  our  profession,  in  the  discharge 
of  family  worship,  and  the  training  up  of  our 
households  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  Lord.  Howcould  it  have  been  otherwise'! 
Is  there  not  a  connexion  between  causes  and 
effects  ]  Do  we  sow  one  kind  of  grain  and 
reap  another'!  Can  men  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles'! 

Guard,  therefore,  my  Christian  friends, 
against  every  pretence  that  would  draw  you 
into  this  forbidden  path  !  Establish  the  un- 
lawfulness and  perniciousness  of  such  alli- 
ances as  a  principle  in  your  minds,  that  when 
the  evil  day  of  temptation  comes,  it  may  find 
you  ready  to  resist  steadfast  in  the  faith. 
You  should  not  have  your  weapons  to  seek 
when  you  want  them  to  use.  O  woman,  do 
not  accept  a  man  who  has  all  the  wisdom  of 
the  world,  if  a  stranger  to  the  excellency  of 
the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Do 
not,  it  is  the  rough  image  of  an  old  divine, 
do  not  choose  a  swine  because  he  has  a  gol- 
den trough.  Whatever  a  man  possesses,  re- 
member he  has  nothing,  if  he  has  not  the  one 
thing  needful.  O  man,  be  not  reconciled  to  a 
weak  or  ugly  mind  because  it  wears  a  hand- 
some body.  "  Favour  is  deceitful,  and  beauty 
is  vain :  but  a  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord, 
she  shall  be  praised.  Give  her  of  the  fruit  of 
her  hands ;  and  let  her  own  works  praise  her 
in  the  gates." 

But  a  marriage  that  is  not  sinful  may  be 
improper.  The  apostle  himself  distinguishes 
between  what  is  lawful  and  what  is  expe- 
dient. Religion  is  indeed  indispensable,  but 
does  not  alone  constitute  the  propriety  of  the 
action.  Religion  is  indeed  essential,  but  is 
not  abstracted  from  all  other  considerations 
sufficient  to  justify  choice.  To  exemplify 
this  a  little. 

— The  admission  of  the  piety  of  the  parties 
does  not  destroy  the  indecorum  of  haste  in 
marrying  immediately  after  the  death  of  a 
husband  or  wife. 

The  admission  of  the  piety  of  the  parties 
does  not  hinder  the  censure  due  to  a  great 
disparity  in  years.  How  unnatural,  how  in- 
decent is  it  to  see  an  old  man  surrounded 
with  infants  and  babes  which  he  can  scarcely 
see  or  hear  for  the  infirmities  of  age  !  How 
unnatural,  how  odious  is  it  to  see  a  young 
man  fastened  to  a  piece  of  antiquity — so  as  to 
perplex  strangers  to  determine  whether  he  is 
living  with  a  wife  or  a  mother ! 

The  admission  of  the  piety  of  the  parties 
does  not  render  in  all  cases  a  difference  of 
sentiment  and  of  denomination  unimportant. 
It  is  not  lovely  for  the  husband  and  wife  to 
repair  on  the  Sabbath-day  morning  to  sepa- 
rate places  of  worship.    It  is  not  pleasant  in 


MARRIAGE. 

remarking  what  they  have  heard  after  their 
return  home,  for  the  one  to  censure  what  the 
other  approves.  It  is  not  edifying  in  the 
dedication  of  the  common  offspring  to  God  by 
baptism  to  disagree,  not  only  as  to  the  im- 
portance, but  also  as  to  the  validity  of  the  ordi- 
nance. The  observation  cannot  be  considered 
as  founded  in  bigotry,  since  it  will  equally  ap- 
ply to  both  sides  of  the  question  in  a  number 
of  cases  in  every  religious  community,  and 
is  derived  from  the  unalterable  nature  of 
things.  Indeed,  to  have  a  preference  from 
conviction,  and  to  adhere  to  the  distinctions 
arising  from  it,  without  condemning  others, 
can  never  be  conformed  with  illiberally,  but 
by  a  weak  or  a  vicious  mind. 

The  admission  of  the  piety  of  the  parties 
cannot  preclude  the  necessity  of  suitableness. 
Indeed  religion  being  supposed,  suitableness 
seems  to  be  the  chief  requisite  to  the  duty, 
the  respectability,  and  the  happiness  of  con- 
nected life.  This  fitness  takes  in  an  adapta- 
tion to  each  other  personally,  and  also  to  the 
situation  in  which  they  are  called  to  move. 
It  has  commonly  been  said  that  no  class  of 
men  err  so  much  in  this  article  as  ministers. 
But  surely  this  cannot  be  admitted.  It  can- 
not be  supposed  that  those  who  have  oppor- 
tunities to  make  the  best  choice,  commonly 
make  the  worst.  It  cannot  be  supposed  that 
those  whose  office  it  is  to  inculcate  prudence 
should  be  themselves  proverbial  for  indiscre- 
tion. It  cannot  be  supposed  that  those  whose 
incomes  are  limited,  and  whose  circumstan- 
ces demand  economy,  would  bring  into  the 
management  of  them  those  who  have  been 
trained  up  in  delicacy  and  extravagance,  and 
are  helpless  and  profuse.  It  cannot  be  sup- 
posed that  men  whose  office  is  respectable 
and  productive  of  social  intercourse  would 
select  vulgarity  and  ignorance,  unfit  to  be 
either  seen  or  heard,  merely  because  it  is 
pious. — A  minister  is  to  inculcate  order  and 
regularity,  and  would  he  marry  a  female  that 
would  render  his  house  a  scene  of  confusion 
and  tumult1!  A  minister  is  to  show  how  the 
claims  of  life  and  religion  harmonize,  and  to 
assign  to  the  duties  of  each  their  own  place 
and  season — and  would  he  marry  a  rattlebrain 
who,  instead  of  being  a  keeper  at  home,  has 
been  always  rambling  after  some  new  preach- 
er; who  instead  of  quietly  glorifying  God 
in  her  proper  sphere  of  action,  has  been  en- 
deavouring to  excite  public  attention:  who 
has  been  zealous  in  matters  of  doubtful  dis- 
putation, but  has  treated  as  beneath  her  re- 
gard common  and  relative  obligations? — 
Need  he  be  told  that  a  becoming  behaviour 
in  a  lower  and  private  station  is  the  surest 
pledge  of,  and  the  best  preparation  for  a  pro- 
per behaviour  in  a  higher  and  more  public 
situation ! — A  minister  is  to  recommend  neat- 
ness and  all  the  decencies  of  life — and  would 
he  marry  a  slattern  T  A  minister  is  to  show 
that  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


193 


is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price — and 
would  he  marry  a  scold  ?  A  minister  is  to 
stand  in  the  same  relation  to  all  his  people 
who  demand  his  love  and  service — and  would 
he  marry  a  female  who  would  fondly  attach 
herself  to  a  few  cronies,  listen  to  all  their 
secrets  and  divulge  her  own,  and  form  cabals 
and  schisms  which  will  render  his  residence 
unpleasant,  or  occasion  his  removal  ? 

"  The  attention  of  ministers,"  says  Mr. 
Gilpin,  "  in  choosing  such  companions  as  may 
not  hinder  their  success,  is  of  so  great  import- 
ance ;  that  in  some  countries  the  conduct  of  a 
pastor's  wife,  as  well  as  that  of  the  pastor 
himself,  is  supposed  to  edify  or  mislead  the 
flock.  Nay  the  minister  himself  is  frequently 
condemned  for  the  faults  of  his  wife  :  thus  in 
the  protestant  churches  of  Hungary  they  de- 
grade a  pastor  whose  wife  indulges  herself  in 
cards,  dancing,  or  any  other  public  amusement 
that  bespeaks  the  gaiety  of  a  lover  of  the 
world  rather  than  the  gravity  of  a  Christian 
matron.    This  severity  springs  from  the  sup- 
position that  the  woman,  having  promised  obe- 
dience to  her  husband,  can  do  nothing  but 
what  he  either  directs  or  approves.  Hence 
they  conclude  that  example  having  a  greater 
influence  than  precept,  the  wife  of  a  minister, 
if  she  be  inclined  to  the  world,  will  preach 
wordly  compliance  with  more  success,  by  her 
conduct,  than  her  husband  can  preach  worldly 
renunciation  by  the  most  solemn  discourses." 
And  certainly  the  scandal  of  many  will  al- 
ways be  the  result  of  that  deplorable  incon- 
sistency which  is  sometimes  seen  between 
the  serious  instruction  of  a  godly  minister, 
and  the  trifling  behaviour  of  a  woman  with 
whom  he  is  so  intimately  connected.    If  the 
wives  of  the  deacons  are  to  be  grave,  not 
slanderous,  sober,  faithful  in  all  things,  what 
less  can  be  required  of  the  wives  of  pastors  ! 
"  A  bishop  then  must  be  blameless,  the  hus- 
band of  one  wife,  vigilant,  sober,  of  good  be- 
haviour, given  to  hospitality,  apt  to  teach; 
not  given  to  wine,  no  striker,  not  greedy  of 
filthy  lucre  ;  but  patient ;  not  a  brawler,  not 
covetous ;   one  that  ruleth  well  his  own 
house,  having  his  children  in  subjection  with 
all  gravity ;  for  if  a  man  know  not  how  to 
rule  his  own  house,  how  shall  he  take  care 
of  the  church  of  God  !" 

Things  said  indeed  concerning  the  wives 
of  ministers  should  generally  be  received 
with  caution.  Owing  to  a  line  in  life,  the 
peculiarity  of  which  is  often  very  little  known 
or  considered,  their  actions  and  motives  may 
be  sometimes  condemned,  when  perhaps  in- 
stead of  deserving  censure  they  merit  praise. 
By  their  union  with  persons  of  some  distinc- 
tion and  influence,  they  are  in  a  state  to 
awaken  envy  and  ill-natured  remark.  By 
their  occupying  a  conspicuous  station  they  are 
more  liable  to  observation  than  many  in  more 
common  life.  This  renders  it  needful  for 
them  to  be  peculiarly  circumspect  and  exem- 
2  B  17 


plary.  And  it  must  be  confessed,  that  such 
females  are  placed  in  a  situation  very  diffi- 
cult and  trying.  But  at  the  same  time,  if  this 
situation  be  filled  up  properly,  they  have  an 
opportunity  to  render  themselves  truly  re- 
spectable and  useful.  In  a  superior  degree 
they  may  serve  their  generation  according  to 
the  will  of  God.  In  such  circumstances,  ex- 
amples of  prudence,  economy,  order,  neat- 
ness, temper,  amiablcness,  domestication,  will 
not  tail  to  strike  and  impress  the  minds  of 
numbers. 

But  there  is  another  view,  in  which  we 
ought  to  consider  such  an  help-meet.  It  is 
the  advantage  which  her  husband  derives 
from  her,  not  only  personally  but  officially, 
and  by  which  she  is  rendered  a  blessing  to 
others.  Are  his  life  and  exertions  and  repu- 
tation of  importance!  And  does  she,  by  the 
excellency  of  her  character,  reflect  honour 
upon  his  choice,  and  secure  deference  to  his 
judgment  ?  Does  she,  by  her  attentions  to 
his  personal  appearance,  the  state  of  his 
family,  and  the  decorum  of  his  children,  add 
to  his  respectability  and  acceptance  ?  Does 
she,  by  seasonably  aiding  his  remembrance, 
contribute  to  the  punctuality  of  his  engage- 
ments, his  visits,  and  his  correspondence! 
Does  she,  by  allowing  her  husband  to  trust 
safely  in  her,  discharge  him  from  secular 
concerns,  and  keep  him  free  to  pursue  his 
work  with  undivided  attention?  Does  she, 
by  soothing  him  under  distress,  and  tranquil- 
lizing him  under  irritation,  preserve  his  mind 
in  a  frame  favourable  to  reflection  and  study  ! 
Docs  she,  by  taking  care  of  his  health  and 
spirits,  enlarge  the  number  and  lengthen  the 
course  of  his  labours?  Such  a  female  de- 
serves the  esteem  and  applause  of  a  congre- 
gation, a  neighbourhood,  a  coimtry. 

Of  what  avail  are  reflections  like  these,  to 
such  as  have  already  taken  unguarded  steps. 
Are  not  the  consequences  irretrievable .' 
They  are — but  yet  they  may  be  improveable. 
I  know  it  is  cold  comfort,  to  tell  a  man  in- 
volved in  difficulty  and  distress,  that  all  this 
might  have  been  avoided,  and  to  upbraid  him 
with  the  warnings  which  he  refused  to  take. 
But  will  it  not  be  useful  for  him  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  his  mistake,  and  to  review  the 
progress  of  his  infatuation  ?  May  he  not  turn 
to  some  good  account,  the  lessons  of  painful 
experience,  and  the  corrections  of  maturer 
judgment?  Ought  he  not  to  increase  in 
self-knowledge,  and  self-diffidence?  "Surely 
it  is  meet  to  be  said  unto  God,  I  have  borne 
chastisement,  I  will  not  offend  any  more: 
That  which  I  see  not  teach  thou  me:  if 
I  have  done  iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more." 
"  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know  my  heart  : 
try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts :  and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me 
in  the  way  everlasting." 

But  there  are  others  whose  escape  is  pos- 
sible, and  for  whose  preservation  we  are  con- 


I 


ESSAY  ON  MARRIAGE. 


194 

cerned.  I  hope  that  my  younger  brethren 
in  the  sacred  office,  and  those  who  are  un- 
der a  course  of  preparation  for  it,  will  not 
be  offended  at  my  taking  advantage  of  this 
address,  to  introduce  these  free  remarks  on 
ministerial  marriage :  and  by  concluding,  in 
calling  upon  them  to  show  how  undeserv- 
edly their  body  has  been  reproached. — 
Let  them  beware,  let  them  see  how  ne- 
cessary it  is,  not  only  that  piety,  but  pru- 
dence should  guide  them.  Let  them  remem- 
ber how  much  their  comfort,  their  honour, 


their  usefulness  depend  upon  a  wise  as  well 
as  a  religious  choice.  A  wrong  step  here 
may  involve  them  in  embarrassments ;  make 
them  go  mourning  down  to  the  grave  ;  strip 
them  of  their  glory,  and  take  the  crown  from 
their  head. 

A  prudent  man  foreseeth  the  evil,  and  hid- 
eth  himself,  but  the  simple  pass  on,  and  are 
punished.  Keep  sound  wisdom  and  discretion ; 
so  shall  they  be  life  unto  thy  soul,  and  grace 
to  thy  neck.  Then  shalt  thou  walk  in  thy 
way  safely,  and  thy  foot  shall  not  stumble. 


AN  ADDRESS 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  INTERMENT  OF  THE 

REV.  WILLIAM  HUMPHRYES, 

OF  HAMMERSMITH; 

IN  THE  BURIAL  GROUND  OF  BUNHILL- FIELDS,  OCTOBER  6,  1808. 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


Death  is  a  familiar  subject,  rendered  so 
by  the  frequency  of  the  event;  for  in  one 
way  or  another  it  is  perpetually  visiting  our 
world,  and  removing  our  neighbours,  frienas, 
and  relations  from  our  view.  It  would  be 
well  if  the  familiarity  of  it  did  not  destroy 
the  solemnity  of  it,  and  hinder  those  serious 
reflections  with  which  it  should  always  be 
accompanied.  There  are  indeed  few  who 
will  not  exclaim  on  such  an  occasion  as  this : 
"  Ah !  see  to  what  we  must  all  be  brought" — 
"  We  must  all  die."  But  it  is  to  little  pur- 
pose to  reflect  upon  death  as  an  universal 
and  an  unavoidable  event.  We  must  con- 
sider the  cause  of  it ;  the  consequences  re- 
sulting from  it ;  and  the  nature  of  a  scriptu- 
ral preparation  for  it.  We  can  never  have  a 
better  opportunity  for  this,  than  when  we 
are  assembled  around  the  mouth  of  the 
grave,  and  behold  the  emblems  of  mortality 
before  us. 

 The  cause  is  sin :  and  if  there  were 

no  other  consideration  to  excite  our  abhor- 
rence of  it — this  would  surely  be  sufficient — 
it  "  brought  death  into  the  world  and  all  our 
wo."  It  is  the  decision  of  the  apostle :  "  By 
one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death 
by  sin ;  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  men, 
for  that  all  have  sinned."  And  therefore 
death  is  not,  as  it  is  commonly  phrased,  a 
debt  due  to  nature,  but  to  the  justice  of  God  : 
and  hence,  though  all  creatures  in  this  lower 
world  die,  we  only  call  man  mortal ;  and  the 
reproach  is  just — because  he  alone  became 
subject  to  dissolution,  and  chose  to  die;  they 
are  mortal  by  destiny,  but  he  by  guilt. 

 The  consequences  of  death  are  vari- 
ous; and  they  are  affecting. — Death  is  a 
solemn  event,  as  it  is  the  termination  of  our 
worldly  affairs.  It  disconcerts  every  scheme 
our  busy  minds  had  formed  ;  it  breaks  off  the 
purposes  of  our  hearts ;  it  bids  the  labourer 


leave  his  spade,  and  the  author  his  pen ;  it 
orders  the  preacher  to  descend  from  his  pul- 
pit, and  the  king  from  his  throne.  However 
attached  to  scenes  and  businesses  to  which 
we  have  been  long  accustomed,  it  tells  us  to 
take  a  farewell  of  fields  and  vallies,  house 
and  garden ;  and  excludes  us  for  ever  from 
all  the  concerns  beneath  the  sun. — Death  is 
a  solemn  event,  as  it  breaks  asunder  all  the 
tender  and  endearing  ties  formed  between 
parent  and  child,  husband  and  wife,  benefac- 
tor and  friend,  pastor  and  people ;  and  reduces 
us  to  a  state  in  which  new  and  strange  affini- 
ties commence;  and  we  "say  to  corruption, 
Thou  art  my  father,  and  to  the  worm,  Thou 
art  my  mother  and  my  sister." — Death  is  a 
solemn  event,  as  it  degrades  and  destroys 
that  fine  piece  of  divine  workmanship,  the 
body.  However  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
made,  it  weakens  our  strength  in  the  way, 
and  consumes  our  body  like  a  moth ;  the  eye 
sparkles  no  more,  the  hand  forgets  her  cun- 
ning, the  tongue  is  silent,  the  blood  congeals; 
our  flesh  becomes  loathsome,  and  however 
valued  or  loved  before,  survivors  are  thank- 
ful for  a  grave  to  bury  their  dead  out  of  their 
sight. 

But  death  is  a  much  more  solemn  event 
when  considered  in  relation  to  another  world. 
For,  my  dear  hearers,  you  will  observe,  that 
death  is  not  the  extinction  of  being,  but  only 
the  termination  of  one  mode  of  it:  it  is  a  tran- 
sition from  a  temporal  to  an  eternal  state,  from 
a  state  of  trial  to  a  state  of  decision  and  re- 
tribution. For  while  "  the  dust  returns  to  the 
dust  as  it  was,  the  spirit  returns  to  God  who 
gave  it,"  and  the  divine  fiat  runs,  "  He  that 
is  unjust,  let  him  be  unjust  still:  and  he 
which  is  filthy  let  him  be  filthy  still :  and  he 
that  is  righteous,  let  him  be  righteous  still : 
and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy  still." 

Death,  therefore,  is  beyond  all  comparison, 
195 


196 


ON  THE  INTERMENT  OF 


the  most  momentous  event  that  can  ever  be- 
fall us — for  "  after  this  is  the  judgment :  a 
judgment  so  impartial,  that  every  one  shall 
receive  according  to  the  deeds  done  in  the 
body  whether  they  be  good  or  whether  they 
be  evil :"  a  judgment  so  dreadful,  that  the 
impenitent  shall  "  call  to  the  rocks  to  fall  on 
them,  and  the  mountains  to  cover  them :"  and 
yet  a  judgment  so  certain,  that  God  has  not 
only  revealed  it  in  his  own  word,  but  attested 
it  in  the  sinner's  conscience — hence  his  back- 
wardness to  self-inspection ;  his  dread  of  soli- 
tude, his  regrets  and  fears  after  the  commis- 
sion of  sin.  Whatever  he  pretends,  he  is  no 
stranger  to  those  feelings  through  life;  but 
he  is  much  more  subject  to  them  when  he 
comes  to  die :  the  former  diversions  cease, 
the  delusions  of  imagination  subside,  and  the 
eyes,  as  they  close  on  external  things,  open 
interiorly  and  begin  to  penetrate  the  secrets 
of  an  invisible  world.  It  is  called  "  the  king 
of  terrors ;"  and  what  fear  has  such  torment 
in  it  ?  It  is  called  an  "  enemy,"  and  if  it  be 
allowed  to  come  against  us  with  all  the  force 
sin  gives  it,  instead  of  being  overcome  by  us, 
it  will  be  more  than  a  conqueror  over  us. 

But  from  among  these  desolations  and  tri- 
umphs of  death — how  numerous  are  they  all 
around ! — we  hear  a  voice  saying,  "  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life ;  he  that  believeth 
in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he 
live:  and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in 
me  shall  never  die.  Bdievest  thou  this?" 
Yes,  blessed  Saviour  of  the  world,  we  be- 
lieve that  thou  hast  "  remembered  us  in  our 
low  estate,"  we  believe  that  thou  hast  inter- 
posed on  our  behalf,  and  said,  "  Deliver  them 
from  going  down  into  the  pit,  I  have  found  a 
ransom ;"  we  believe  that  "  in  thy  love  and 
pity  thou  hast  redeemed  us."  "Thou  hast 
once  suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  unjust, 
to  bring  us  unto  God  !" 

My  brethren,  He  is  said  to  die :  we  as  his 
followers  are  only  said  to  sleep.  Death  stung 
him ;  but,  as  it  is  fabled  of  the  bee,  left  his 
sting  in  him :  we  may  therefore  safely  defy 
the  harmless  foe,  and  exult  in  the  language 
of  the  apostle,  "  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting?" 
yea,  death  is  not  only  deprived  of  a  power 
of  injuring  us,  but  has  obtained  a  power  of 
doing  us  good :  "  to  die  is  gain."  No  won- 
der therefore,  Dr.  George  often  said,  he  had 
two  friends  in  the  world,  Christ  and  Death : 
"Christ,"  said  he,  "is  my  first  friend,  and 
Death  is  my  second."  It  is  impossible  for 
the  Christian  at  present  to  estimate  the  ex- 
tent of  his  obligation  to  death.  Deatli  de- 
livers him  from  all  the  evils  he  feels  or  fears ; 
it  grants  him  the  full  possession  of  all  the 
promises  of  God.  It  is  the  day  when  the 
tempest-tossed  mariner  reaches  the  desired 
haven;  the  day  when  the  weather-beaten 
traveller  arrives  at  home ;  the  day  when  the 
heir  of  immortality  comes  of  age  and  gains 
"the  inheritance  which  is  incorruptible  and 


fadeth  not  away,  reserved  in  heaven  for 
him."  It  is  the  angel  that  draws  back  the 
veil,  shows  him  the  path  of  life,  and  intro- 
duces him  into  his  "  presence,  where  there  is 
fulness  of  joy  and  pleasure  for  evermore." 

But  are  all  who  die  thus  blessed]  Far 
from  it.  In  order  to  enjoy  these  immunities 
and  advantages,  we  must  be  found  in  a  cer- 
tain state.  Let  me  briefly  explain  it.  Ac- 
cording to  the  sacred  writers,  it  consists  in 
our  being  found  in  Christ;  that  is,  in  a  state 
of  union  and  communion  with  him.  In  con- 
sequence of  this,  we  partake  of  his  righteous- 
ness for  our  justification,  and  his  grace  for 
our  sanctification :  the  one  giving  us  a  title 
to  heaven,  the  other  a  meetness  for  it.  These 
always  go  together;  and  the  one  is  as  ne- 
cessary as  the  other.  Hence  our  Saviour 
has  told  us,  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again  he 
cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  It 
is  in  vain,  therefore,  to  deny,  to  question,  to 
philosophize. — It  is  the  decision  of  one  who 
cannot  be  deluded  and  who  cannot  deceive  : 
the  nature  of  heaven  demands  it ;  the  work 
of  heaven  demands  it;  the  joy  of  heaven 
demands  it ;  and  hence  he  adds,  "  Except  a 
man  be  born  again  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom 
of  God." — It  would  be  impossible  for  him  to 
enjoy  it,  even  were  he  to  possess  it ;  for  hap- 
piness results  not  only  from  the  excellency 
of  the  object,  but  from  its  adaptation  to  the 
subject ;  from  its  suitableness  to  his  faculties, 
its  congeniality  with  his  dispositions,  its  ac- 
complishment of  his  hopes  and  wishes. 
"  Marvel  not  therefore  that  I  said  unto  you, 
ye  must  be  born  again."  Found  in  this  state 
we  are  secure,  we  are  happy.  According  to 
the  voice  from  heaven,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead 
that  die  in  the  Lord."  Arid  thus  blessed 
we  are  fully  persuaded  is  our  departed  bro- 
ther, whose  remains  we  are  consigning  "  to 
the  house  appointed  for  all  living." — Not  as 
to  a  place  where  the  body  will  be  lost,  but  a 
quiet  dormitory,  in  which  it  will  rest  till  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection,  when  waked  by 
the  archangel's  trump,  it  will  arise  and  shake 
itself  from  its  dust,  and  put  on  its  beautiful 
garments,  and  arise  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the 
air :  or,  to  vary  the  image ;  we  commit  this 
seed  to  the  earth  where  it  will  not  be  de- 
stroyed, but  will  revive  and  flourish :  "  It  is 
sown  in  corruption ;  it  is  raised  in  incorrup- 
tion :  it  is  sown  in  dishonour ;  it  is  raised  in 
glory :  it  is  sown  in  weakness ;  it  is  raised  in 
power :  it  is  sown  a.  natural  body ;  it  is  raised 
a  spiritual  body.  There  is  a  natural  body, 
and  there  is  a  spiritual  body." 

It  would  be  needless,  not  to  say  improper, 
to  anticipate  what  will  be  much  more  suita- 
bly delivered  next  Lord's-day  afternoon,  by 
our  reverend  friend  and  brother,  who  has  en- 
gaged to  deliver  a  sermon  appropriated  to 
the  subject.  But  I  cannot  resist  what  my 
convictions  and  feelings  equally  prompt  me 
to  remark,  that  I  now  lay  my  hand  on  the 


THE  REV.  WILLIAM  HUMPHRYES. 


197 


mortal  remains  of  one  of  the  most  amiable  of 
men — one  of  the  most  holy  and  consistent 
professors  of  religion — and  a  distinguished 
minister  of  the  gospel,  whether  we  consider 
his  qualifications  or  his  usefulness. 

We  are  called  to  "  mark  the  perfect  man, 
and  behold  the  upright;  for  the  end  of  that 
man  is  peace."  And  in  such  an  age  of  re- 
buke and  blasphemy,  when  so  many  fail  of 
the  grace  of  God,  and  dishonour  the  Redeem- 
er's name ;  and  when  so  many,  even  in  the 
ministerial  office,  fall  by  their  iniquity,  to  the 
disgrace  of  their  character  and  station,  it  is 
a  delightful  satisfaction  to  attend  the  con- 
cluding scenes  of  one  whose  reputation  was 
unsullied ;  at  whose  funeral  there  is  nothing 
to  conceal,  nothing  to  palliate ;  and  concern- 
ing whom,  the  spectators,  however  numerous, 
are  all  ready  to  acknowledge,  "  He  was  a 
good  man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of 
faith." — I  do  not  wonder  to  see  you  weep. 
"  This  grief  becomes  you,  and  these  tears  are 
just;  not  to  mourn  would  argue  the  guilty 
insensibility  of  the  Jews,  condemned  by  the 
prophet,  who,  when  the  righteous  perished, 
and  merciful  men  were  taken  away,  laid  it 
not  to  heart."  He  is  indeed,  disposed  of  infi- 
nitely to  his  advantage — his  warfare  is  ac- 
complished— he  has  entered  the  joy  of  his 
Lord :  but  his  gain  is  our  loss.  We  have  lost 
a  protector,  an  intercessor,  a  benefactor,  a 
teacher,  an  example.  The  world  sustains  a 
loss,  the  country  sustains  a  loss,  the  church 
feels  a  loss ;  religion  feels  a  loss,  and  comes 
and  mourns  along  with  us.  The  sons  and 
daughters  of  indigence  and  affliction  are  be- 
reaved :  friends  sigh  1  feel  it  easier  to 

weep  than  to  address  you.  Forgive  the  ego- 
tism, I  have  lost  a  friend — a  long  known,  a 
tried  friend — with  whom  I  have  taken  sweet 
counsel — whose  advice  has  directed  me — 
whose  approbation  has  stimulated  me — and 
with  whom,  from  my  first  intercourse  with 
him,  I  felt  a  peculiar  oneness  of  mind,  which 
every  succeeding  interview  has  only  in- 
creased. At  the  grave  of  a  parent,  not  by 
birth,  but  adoption,  I  lately  cried,  "  My  father, 
my  father!"  I  now  cry  "alas,  my  brother!" 
— "  I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jo- 
nathan, very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  to  me." 
O !  how  earth  is  impoverished  !  O !  how  hea- 
ven is  enriched  by  such  removals  as  these ! 
How  they  loosen  us  from  the  world,  and  ena- 
ble us  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Thomas, 
when  he  said,  "  Let  us  go  away  that  we  may 
die  with  him !"  Well,  we  shall  join  them 
again.  They  will  soon  receive  us  into  ever- 
lasting habitations.  Even  now  the  interrup- 
tion of  our  union  is  in  appearance  rather  than 
reality. 

17* 


"  The  saints  on  earth,  and  all  the  dead, 
But  one  communion  make  ; 
All  join  in  Christ,  their  living  head, 
And  of  his  grace  partake. 

"  In  such  society  as  this, 

My  weary  soul  would  rest, 
The  man  that  dwells  where  Jesus  is, 
Must  be  for  ever  blest." 

The  close  of  the  life  of  this  man  of  God 
corresponded  with  its  course,  and  is  worthy 
of  our  notice.  He  had  retired  to  Canterbury 
after  the  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel ;  but  find- 
ing at  length  that  his  recovery  was  despaired 
of,  he  expressed  a  wish  to  be  taken  home  to 
expire  among  his  people.  He  conceived  that 
he  ought  to  edify  them  in  death  as  well  as  in 
life,  and  hoped  to  be  able  to  bear  a  final  tes- 
timony to  the  truth  and  importance  of  those 
doctrines  which  he  had  publicly  preached. 
This  wish  was  indulged.  He  reached  home 
on  the  Tuesday  and  died  on  the  Wednesday ; 
professing  a  hope  full  of  immortality,  and  ad- 
dressing pertinent  instructions  and  admoni- 
tions to  those  around  him.  "  Blessed  is  that 
servant  whom  his  Lord  when  he  cometh  shall 
find  so  doing !" 

It  may  be  useful  to  inquire  what  the  senti- 
ments were,  that  formed  a  life  so  beneficial, 
and  produced  a  death  so  happy.  And  some, 
perhaps,  may  be  surprised  to  learn,  that  they 
were  those  principles  which  of  late  have  in- 
curred so  much  reprobation ;  and  to  suppress 
which,  an  appeal  has  been  made  to  the  legis- 
lature ! 

We  here  see  the  excellency  of  the  religion 
described  and  recommended  in  the  gospel. 
It  always  appears  profitable ;  but  how  does 
its  glory  shine  forth  in  those  dark  scenes 
which  nothing  else  can  illuminate;  nothing 
else  can  cheer ;  nothing  else  can  gild !    O  ! 
how  desirable  is  it,  when  nature  is  dissolv- 
ing, to  be  able  to  say  with  Jacob,  "  I  have 
waited  for  thy  salvation,  O  Lord !" — when 
the  body  is  mouldering  back  to  dust,  to 
exclaim  with  Job,  "  I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth;" — with  Simeon,  to  feel  a 
Saviour  in  the  arms  of  our  faith,  raising  us 
above  the  love  of  life  and  the  fear  of  death; 
to  look  backward,  to  look  forward,  and  ex- 
ult with  Paul,  "  I  am  now  ready  to  be  of- 
fered, and  the  time  of  my  departure  is  at 
hand.    I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have 
finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith  : 
henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous 
Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day  !"  Where 
is  the  individual  that  will  not  withdraw  from 
these  mansions  of  the  dead,  and  immediately 
and  earnestly  pray,  "  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like 
his!!" 


THE  JUBILEE: 

A  SERMON, 

DELIVERED  SUNDAY,  OCTOBER  22,  1809,  IN  ARGYLE-CHAPEL,  BATH. 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


It  shall  be  a  jubilee  unto  you. — Lev.  xxv.  10. 
"  He  that  winneth  souls  is  wise."  This 
wisdom  is  from  above,  and  is  first  pure,  then 
peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be  entreated,  full 
of  mercy,  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality, 
and  without  hypocrisy.  No  person  ever  pos- 
sessed more  of  this  excellency  than  Paul.  His 
prudence  appears  in  the  selection  and  varia- 
tion of  the  means  he  employed  to  accomplish 
his  end.  He  considered  the  circumstances, 
the  tempers,  the  prejudices  of  his  hearers. 
He  addressed  every  principle,  and  every  pas- 
sion of  human  nature.  He  reasoned;  he  de- 
claimed. He  reproved  ;  he  admonished ;  he 
warned;  he  encouraged.  He  compassed  sea 
and  land  to  furnish  himself  with  illustrations 
and  assistance.  He  borrowed  from  the  insti- 
tutions of  Judaism.  He  borrowed  from  the 
usages  of  Heathenism.  He  borrowed  from  the 
manners  of  the  age.  He  borrowed  from  the 
festive  games. — Not  a  wrestling  or  a  race 
passed  by  unnoticed  or  unimproved. — Any  oc- 
currence, however  accidental  or  transitory,  he 
seized,  to  guide  the  attention  which  it  awak- 
ened, to  some  wise  and  important  purpose. 

"  And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies  ; 
He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay, 
Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way." 

Hear  his  own  language — "  Though  I  be 
free  from  all  men,  yet  have  I  made  myself 
servant  unto  all  that  I  may  gain  the  more. 
And  unto  the  Jews  I  became  as  a  Jew,  that  I 
might  gain  the  Jews ;  to  them  that  are  under 
the  law,  as  under  the  law,  that  I  might  gain 
them  that  are  under  the  law ;  to  them  that 
are  without  law,  as  without  law  (being  not 
without  law  to  God,  but  under  the  law  to 
Christ,)  that  I  might  gain  them  that  are  with- 
out law.  To  the  weak  became  I  as  weak, 
that  I  might  gain  the  weak  :  I  am  made  all 
things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  by  all  means 
save  some." 

My  brethren,  your  preacher  does  not  intend 
a  comparison ;  but  he  wishes  to  feel  the  sti- 
mulus of  an  example  so  excellent.  He  does 
not  challenge  praise;  but  hopes  for  approba- 
tion, in  a  particular  instance. — If  Paul  be 
worthy  of  imitation,  I  am  more  than  justified 
in  the  choice  of  my  subject  this  evening.  As 
our  venerable  and  virtuous  sovereign  enters 


the  fiftieth  year  of  his  reign  on  Wednesday 
next,  an  observance  is  intended,  called — Ju- 
bilee; and  I  am  going  to  lead  back  your 
minds  to  the  origin  of  the  name.  My  design 
is,  not  to  indulge  in  applauding  or  censuring 
the  measure,  but  to  enable  you  to  improve  it, 
especially  in  aid  of  religious  reflection. 

Let  me  explain  the  nature  of  the  Jubilee — 
make  some  remarks  on  the  design  of  it — and 
examine  what  there  is  in  the  gospel  to  corres- 
pond with  it.  Consider  what  I  say,  and  may  the 
Lord  give  you  understanding  in  all  things. 

I.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  take  up  any  of 
your  time,  by  inquiring  after  the  etymology 
of  the  word  Jubilee ;  in  Hebrew,  Jobel.  It 
signifies,  according  to  some  rabbins,  a  ram's 
horn,  with  which  the  festival  was  proclaimed. 
But  how,  asks  the  learned  Calmet,  could  a 
ram's  horn,  which  is  crooked,  solid,  and  not 
hollow,  be  used  as  a  trumpet  1  It  was  there- 
fore probably,  says  he,  a  trumpet  in  the  form 
of  a  ram's  horn.  Others  derive  Jobel  from 
Jubal,  who  was  the  inventor  of  musical  in- 
struments ;  and  suppose  that  the  year  was 
named  after  him,  because  it  was  a  year  of  re- 
joicing, of  which  music  is  commonly  an  em- 
blem :  or  because  it  was  ushered  in  with  the 
sound  of  music  through  the  whole  land.  Hot- 
tinger  is  of  opinion,  that  Jobel  does  not  sig- 
nify the  instrument,  but  the  noise  it  made ; 
and  that  the  word  is  invented  to  imitate  the 
sound.  Patrick  espouses  this  sentiment ;  and 
justifies  it  by  a  reference  to  the  passover, 
which  was  called  Pesach,  from  the  angel's 
passing  over  the  Israelites,  when  he  slew  the 
Egyptians.  There  is  another  conjecture, 
says  Jennings,  much  more  probable,  and 
which  supposes  that  it  comes  from  the  verb 
Hobil,  to  bring  or  call  back;  because  then 
every  thing  was  restored.  Accordingly,  the 
Septuagint  renders  it  *  remission  ;  and  Jose- 
phus  says  it  signifies  f  liberty. 

The  learned  are  not  more  agreed  concern- 
ing the  period  in  which  the  Jubilee  was  cele- 
brated. Whether  it  was  observed  every  forty- 
ninth  or  fiftieth  year,  is  a  question  on  each 
side  of  which,  the  advocates  seem  equally 
numerous  and  eminent.  I  shall  not  trouble 
you  with  their  respective  arguments ;  but 
only  remark,  that  the  authors  of  the  Univer- 

*»?«rit.  \i  K-ui-.p,*,. 

198 


THE  JUBILEE. 


199 


sal  History  have  endeavoured  to  reconcile 
these  two  opinions,  by  observing,  that  as  the 
Jubilee  began  in  the  first  month  of  the  civil 
year,  which  was  the  seventh  month  of  the  ec- 
clesiastical, it  might  be  said  to  be  either  the 
forty-ninth  or  the  fiftieth,  according  as  the 
one  or  the  other  of  these  computations  is  fol- 
lowed. 

For  a  general  account  of  this  ordinance,  I 
refer  you  to  the  charge  which  God  gave  to 
Moses  at  the  institution.  "  And  thou  shalt 
number  seven  Sabbaths  of  years  unto  thee, 
seven  times  seven  years;  and  the  space  of 
the  seven  Sabbaths  of  years  shall  be  unto 
thee  forty  and  nine  years.  Then  shalt  thou 
cause  the  trumpet  of  the  Jubilee  to  sound,  on 
the  tenth  day  of  the  seventh  month,  in  the 
day  of  atonement  shall  ye  make  the  trumpet 
sound  throughout  all  your  land.  And  ye 
shall  hallow  the  fiftieth  year,  and  proclaim 
liberty  throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof ;  it  shall  be  a  Jubilee  unto 
you;  and  ye  shall  return  every  man  unto  his 
possession,  and  ye  shall  return  every  man 
unto  his  family.  A  Jubilee  shall  that  fiftieth 
year  be  unto  you ;  ye  shall  not  sow,  neither 
reap  that  which  groweth  of  itself  in  it,  nor 
gather  the  grapes  in  it  of  thy  vine  undressed. 
For  it  is  the  Jubilee ;  it  shall  be  holy  unto 
you :  ye  shall  eat  the  increase  thereof  out  of 
the  field.  In  the  year  of  this  Jubilee  ye  shall 
return  every  man  unto  his  possession."  Let 
us  arrange  and  explain  the  contents  of  this 
statement. 

The  Jubilee  was  a  season  of  relaxation,  re- 
pose, and  pleasure.  The  first  nine  days  were 
spent  in  festivity.  The  people  indulged  in 
every  kind  of  lawful  mirth.  They  wore 
crowns  on  their  heads,  and  decorated  their 
garments  with  flowers.  During  the  remain- 
der of  the  season  no  servile  work  was  done. 
There  was  no  ploughing,  or  sowing.  The 
earth  spontaneously  yielded  her  increase,  and 
of  the  produce  all  were  allowed  to  partake. 
The  proprietor  of  a  field,  or  a  vineyard,  had 
no  more  claim  to  the  grapes  or  the  corn  than 
his  poor  neighbour.  They  had  all  things  com- 
mon. 

The  Jubilee  announced  release  from  bond- 
age. All  slaves  were  free,  with  their  wives 
and  children.  They  who  had  renounced  the 
privilege  given  to  them  by  the  sabbatical 
year,  of  recovering  their  liberty,  and  whose 
ears  have  been  bored  in  token  of  perpetual 
servitude,  were  emancipated  from  their  mas- 
ters. Even  all  foreign  slaves  enjoyed  the 
same  privilege  of  exemption ;  and  could  not 
be  detained  another  moment  in  vassalage. 

The  Jubilee  proclaimed  the  remission  of 
debts,  whether  small  or  great,  lately  contract- 
ed or  of  long  standing.  It  arrested  the  arm 
of  the  merciless  creditor,  who  was  taking  his 
fellow  by  the  throat,  saying,  Pay  me  that  thou 
owest.  It  hastily  opened  the  door  of  the  dun- 
geon, and  permitted  the  light  of  heaven  to 


visit  the  wretch  immured  in  the  cold  and 
gloomy  prison;  struck  oft"  his  fetters;  and  led 
him  forth  to  his  relations  and  friends,  anxious 
to  hail  him  on  his  release. 

The  Jubilee  caused  the  lost  inheritance  to 
revert  to  the  original  owner.  The  sale  of  his 
estate  could  only  extend  to  the  arrival  of  this 
period :  but  there  was  no  wrong  done  in  this 
case  to  the  purchaser,  because  the  time  of 
restitution  was  fixed  and  known,  and  he 
bought  accordingly.  The  joy  of  recovery 
is  more  lively  and  intense  than  the  calm  satis- 
faction resulting  from  uninterrupted  posses- 
sion. Things  most  powerfully  strike  us  when 
they  are  viewed  and  felt  in  contrast.  It  is 
the  want  that  teaches  us  the  worth  of  our 
enjoyments.  Behold  an  Israelite,  who  had 
been  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  stranger 
even  in  his  own  land ;  who  had  walked  like 
an  alien  in  sight  of  a  house,  and  by  the  side 
of  a  field  and  a  vineyard  which  he  once  called 
his  own — with  what  pleasure  would  he  feel 
himself  reinstated  into  his  patrimonial  herit- 
age !  Lectured  and  prepared  by  all  the  trials 
of  indigence  and  exile,  and  uncertainty ;  with 
what  gratitude  would  he  exult,  "  The  lines 
are  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places ;  yea,  I 
have  a  goodly  heritage." 

There  is  another  circumstance  which  must 
by  no  means  be  omitted.  It  is  the  solemnity 
that  immediately  preceded  the  Jubilee.  For 
you  will  remember  that  the  proclamation  was 
made  on  the  day  of  atonement.  As  soon  as 
the  victim  of  expiation  was  offered,  and  re- 
conciliation was  made  for  the  sins  of  the  peo- 
ple— then — and  not  before,  was  the  command 
given  to  the  priests  to  blow.  They  stood 
ready  with  the  trumpets  in  their  hands,  and 
their  faces  turned  towards  the  east  and  the 
west,  the  north  and  the  south,  waiting  the 
signal :  and  no  sooner  was  it  given,  than  their 
sound  went  into  all  the  land,  and  the  joyful 
intelligence  was  published  in  every  region, 
and  in  every  village. 

From  this  representation  it  appears,  that 
the  Jubilee  must  have  been  an  event  of  pe- 
culiar interest  to  the  Jews:  and  we  proceed 

II.  To  make  a  few  remarks  upon  the  de- 
sign of  it.  Our  ignorance  of  a  period  so  re- 
mote, and  of  a  people  so  peculiar,  will  not 
allow  of  our  appreciating  the  importance  of 
such  an  institution  in  every  instance.  We 
do  not  therefore  pretend  to  develope  all  the 
advantages  attached  to  it :  but  it  is  easy  to 
see,  that  whether  it  be  examined  with  regard 
to  humanity,  policy,  or  religion,  it  will  be 
found  to  possess  no  small  degree  of  utility. 

First.  Considered  humanely,  it  was  im- 
portant. It  had  a  merciful  and  kind  aspect 
on  the  lower  ranks  of  life,  and  would  tend  to 
keep  their  spirits  from  being  broken,  depress- 
ed, degraded.  Who  can  bear  everlasting  ap- 
plication, or  hopeless  fatigue"!  Incessant 
and  unvaried  toil  from  day  to  day,  from  year 
to  year,  annihilates  all  sense  of  personal 


200 


THE  JUBILEE. 


dignity.  It  brutalizes  the  mind  by  assimila- 
tion, produced  by  a  constancy  and  uniformity 
of  low  impressions.  Nothing'  occurs  to  re- 
mind the  man  that  he  is  a  rational  and  im- 
mortal being.  Every  moment  being  neces- 
sarily demanded  for  the  cravings  of  the  body, 
the  soul  is  neglected  till  it  is  forgotten. 
Habits  are  generated  so  perfectly  material, 
that  he  becomes  incapable  of  every  mental 
effort,  and  dead  to  every  glowing  purpose : 
at  best,  he  is  the  subject  of  a  sullen  quietude, 
or  a  cheerless  contentment.  There  is  no- 
thing so  provoking  to  God,  who  is  the  lovely 
Father  of  all  mankind,  as  the  oppression  and 
misery  of  the  poor  and  needy  :  "  For  the 
sighing  of  the  poor,  for  the  crying  of  the 
needy,  now  will  I  arise,  saith  the  Lord,  now 
will  I  show  myself"  "It  is  not  of  the  Lord 
that  the  people  labour  in  the  lire,  and  weary 
themselves  for  very  vanity."  It  is  the  plea- 
sure of  the  Almighty  that  man  should  have 
some  active  employment.  It  is  the  law  of 
his  creation.  A  particular  necessity  indeed 
falls  on  him  as  the  consequence  of  sin : 
"  Cursed  is  the  ground  for  thy  sake ;  in  sor- 
row shalt  thou  eat  of  it  all  the  days  of  thy 
life;  thorns  also  and  thistles  shall  it  bring 
forth  to  thee ;  and  thou  shalt  eat  of  the  herb 
of  the  field;  in  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt 
thou  eat  bread,  till  thou  return  unto  the 
ground."  But  he  who  pronounced  this  curse 
is  a  father  as  well  as  a,  sovereign.  In  the 
midst  of  judgment  he  remembers  mercy. 
He  renders  the  obligation  to  which  vve  have 
subjected  ourselves,  a  physical  and  a  moral 
blessing:  and  he  limits  the  degree,  the  ex- 
tent of  the  obligation  itself.  He  ordains  la- 
bour, but  never  designed  that  absolute  drud- 
gery should  be  necessary  to  acquire  a  pitiful 
subsistence.  He  has  prepared  of  his  good- 
ness for  the  poor ;  and  his  designs  are  gra- 
cious, though  men  pervert  them.  Thus, — 
He  gave  the  Jews  occasional  relaxation  and 
ease.  He  allowed  them  time  for  rest,  and 
reflection.  He  resigned  them  one  day  in 
every  seven  days ;  one  year  in  every  seven 
years ;  and  one  year  in  every  fifty  years,  in 
addition  to  both — during  which,  they  could 
wipe  their  brows,  unload  their  heavy  burdens, 
and  attend  to  their  persons,  their  children, 
and  the  book  of  God. 

Secondly.  Considered  politically,  it  was 
important. 

Slaves  for  certain  reasons  were  allowed 
under  the  Jewish  dispensation ;  but,  by  this 
law,  what  was  tolerated  was  qualified,  and 
perpetual  slavery  was  prevented. 

In  every  well-ordered  state  it  will  be  an 
object  to  fix  those  who  reside  in  it,  not  by 
necessity,  but  choice  and  preference.  The 
secret  to  prevent  at  once  emigration  and 
disaffection,  is  to  cause  some  flowers  to  spring 
up  around  the  cottage,  however  humble ;  to 
keep  the  soil  from  becoming  barren  and 
dreary ;  to  secure  some  enjoyments,  some 


advantages  that  will  render  the  idea  of  homo 
estimable  and  attractive;  and  make  the  indi- 
vidual feel  an  interest  which  he  is  unwilling 
to  resign,  and  determined  to  defend.  That 
which  we  have  a  propriety  in,  we  seldom 
disregard. — This  was  the  case  with  the  Jews. 
The  provision  of  Jubilee  attached  them  to 
their  own  country,  and  their  native  soil. 
They  viewed  with  veneration  and  affection 
the  estates  that  had  descended  from  their 
ancestors,  and  were  to  be  continued  to  their 
posterity.  Even  when  they  had  no  share  in 
possession,  they  had  one  in  remembrance; 
they  had  one  in  hope ;  and  could  never  feel 
detached  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel. 

The  levelling  of  property  is  impossible, 
and  absurd.  Yet  a  state  is  never  in  a  pros- 
perous condition  when  the  community  is 
divided  between  two  classes  only,  the  very 
rich,  and  the  very  poor:  and  the  various 
intermediate  degrees  that  constitute  the 
strength,  the  happiness,  the  glory  of  a  coun- 
try disappear.  The  law  of  Jubilee  prevent- 
ed at  once  abject  poverty,  and  excessive  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth.  It  was  impossible  for 
any  to  gain  very  large  possessions,  either  by 
usurpation,  mortgage,  purchase,  or  heirship. 
The  tendency  to  departure  from  the  original 
medium  of  estate,  both  in  deficiency  and  ex- 
cess, was  seasonably  checked,  and  the  ba- 
lance restored.  We  read  that  something 
like  this  was  established  among  the  Lacede- 
monians by  their  famous  legislator  Lycurgus. 
He  not  only  banished  slavery,  but .  instituted 
a  kind  of  equality,  or  rather  mediocrity  of 
fortune.  His  endeavour  was,  as  far  as  he 
was  able,  to  hinder  any  one  from  becoming 
too  powerful,  or  too  rich.  Such  was  the 
design  of  the  ostracism  which  he  introduced. 
It  consisted  in  expelling  citizens  whose 
wealth  and  influence  rendered  their  aggran- 
dizement prejudicial  to  the  state.  A  similar 
plan  also  was  proposed  by  Stolo.  To  repress 
the  avarice  of  the  old  Romans,  he  made  a 
law  which  forbad  any  particular  person  from 
having  more  than  five  hundred  acres  of  land. 
Fraudulence  soon  destroyed  this  wise  consti- 
tution; and  he  himself  was  condemned  for 
violating  his  own  statute. 

But  to  return.  Never  was  there  a  people 
upon  earth  so  secure  of  their  liberty  and  pro- 
perty as  the  Israelites  were:  for  while  they 
were  protected  from  the  invasion  of  their 
enemies  by  the  promise  and  providence  of 
God ;  by  the  Jubilee  they  were  not  suffered 
to  lose  these  privileges,  even  by  their  follies 
and  vices,  unless  partially  and  for  a  time. 

Thirdly.  Considered  religiously  it  was 
important.  It  established  the  divine  au- 
thority of  Moses — it  verified  the  prophecies 
with  regard  to  the  descent  of  the  Messiah — 
it  was  typical  of  the  Christian  dispensation. 

It  established  the  divine  authority  of 
Moses.  For  we  may  boldly  affirm,  that  no 
legislator,  unless  conscious  of  being  divinely 


THE  JUBILEE. 


201 


inspired,  would  ever  have  committed  himself 
by  enacting  such  a  law.  It  was  founded  on 
a  standing  miracle.  It  forbad  all  agricultu- 
ral process,  on  the  assurance  that  the  year 
preceding  should  render  it  needless,  by  yield- 
ing an  abundance  sufficient  to  answer  its  de- 
mands without  tillage.  For  this  double  pro- 
duce in  one  season  he  pledged  himself 
Would  an  impostor  have  done  this  ?  How 
easily  would  he  have  been  detected !  Had 
his  assertion  been  false,  a  people  so  prone  to 
rebel,  and  so  governed  by  present  appear- 
ances, would  never  have  submitted  to  the 
loss  of  a  year's  produce ;  neither  would  the 
possessors  of  acquired  estates  have  resigned 
them. — Their  obedience  in  such  circum- 
stances abundantly  proves  the  truth  of  his 
claims. 

It  verified  the  prophecies  with  regard  to 
the  descent  of  the  Messiah.  It  rendered 
necessary  the  continuance  of  the  distinction 
of  every  tribe  and  family:  this  preserved 
their  genealogies  secure  and  clear :  and  thus 
ultimately,  and  no  doubt  intentionally,  it 
served  to  ascertain  the  birth  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  from  the  tribe  of  Judah,  and  the 
family  of  David.  Indeed  every  dispensation 
of  divine  Providence  or  grace  from  the  be- 
ginning of  the  world,  regarded  the  coming 
of  the  Messiah,  and  issued  in  "  the  fulness 
of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all." 

Finally,  it  was  a  type  of  the  Christian  dis- 
pensation. Observe,  my  brethren,  the  words 
of  the  apostle  to  the  Hebrews.  "  God,"  says 
he,  "has  provided  some  better  thing  for  us, 
that  they  without  us  should  not  be  made  per- 
fect" Here  he  compares  the  law  with  the 
gospel,  and  reminds  us  that  the  one  is  supe- 
rior to  the  other ;  yea,  that  the  one  is  the  com- 
pletion of  the  other.  Judaism  without  Chris- 
tianity would  have  been  defective — as  a  dawn 
without  the  day  :  and  it  would  have  been  un- 
interesting and  unintelligible — like  an  alle- 
gory without  the  clue,  or  a  prefiguration 
without  the  reality.  The  various  usages 
and  institutions  of  the  ceremonial  economy 
derive  their  significancy,  their  value,  their 
perfection  from  reference:  they  were  all 
"shadows  of  good  things  to  come,  but  the 
body  is  Christ."  This  renders  the  Old  Tes- 
tament so  delightful  and  edifying  to  a  Chris- 
tian. By  means  of  the  subsequent  explana- 
tions of  the  New  Testament  writers,  he  can 
go  back  and  compare  promise  with  accom- 
plishment; the  figure  with  the  substance. 
He  can  read  the  glory  of  his  Redeemer  in 
the  patriarchal  dignity,  in  the  prophetical 
wisdom,  in  the  priestly  sanctity,  in  the  kingly 
dominion.  He  can  find  him  in  the  sufferings 
and  elevation  of  Joseph:  in  the  splendour  of 
Solomon:  in  the  burial  and  resurrection  of 
Jonah.  He  can  see  him  as  the  bread  that 
came  down  from  heaven  in  the  manna ;  as 
the  water  of  life  in  the  streams  that  flowed 
from  the  rock  in  the  wilderness;  as  an  offer- 
2C 


ing  for  sin  in  the  slaughtered  bullock  or 
bleeding  lamb.  In  the  brazen  serpent  he 
beholds  him  as  dying  on  the  cross,  "that 
whoever  believeth  on  him  shall  not  perish 
but  have  everlasting  life."  He  meets  him, 
he  hears  him  in  the  Jubilee.  It  is  in  allusion 
to  this  season,  that  our  Lord  expresses  him- 
self, in  the  words  of  Isaiah ;  "  The  spirit  of 
the  Lord  God  is  upon  me :  because  the  Lord 
hath  anointed  me  to  preach  good  tidings 
unto  the  meek ;  he  hath  sent  me  to  bind  up 
the  broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty  to  the 
captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to 
them  that  are  bound ;  to  proclaim  the  ac- 
ceptable YEAR  OF  THE  LORD." 

Let  us  therefore, 

III.  Inquire  what  there  is  in  the  gospel 
to  correspond  with  the  Jubilee.  I  am  sorry 
to  be  obliged  to  remark  that  the  figurative 
language  of  divine  revelation  has  been  fre- 
quently abused  by  violence,  and  debased  by 
littleness.  Expositors  and  preachers  have 
too  commonly  supposed  that  a  conformity 
was  to  be  sought  for  in  every  attribute,  and 
in  every  circumstance  of  the  subject.  Where- 
as a  real  and  striking  degree  of  similitude  is 
all  that  is  required  in  any  writer ;  and  the 
same  will  hold  with  regard  to  the  meta- 
phors, parables,  and  types  of  the  Scripture. 
This  being  premised,  we  are  not  afraid  to 
bring  the  Jubilee  and  the  gospel  together. 
A  very  superficial  examination  will  decide 
that  there  is  a  wonderful  analogy  between 
them. 

Did  the  Jubilee  afford  rest?  This  the 
gospel  realizes.  It  calls  us  to  cease  from 
Jewish  ceremonies,  from  superstitious  rites, 
from  slavish  fears,  from  perplexing  anxieties, 
from  worldly  disquietudes.  It  tells  us  that 
all  things  are  now  ready ;  and  that  we 
are  welcome  to  partake  of  the  common  sal- 
vation of  God's  people.  The  Christian  thus 
finds  himself  blessed  with  all  spiritual  bless- 
ings in  heavenly  places  in  Christ;  and  by 
believing  enters  into  rest.  He  confides  also 
in  his  providence.  He  knows  from  the  love, 
the  power,  and  the  promise  of  his  heavenly 
Father,  that  though  the  young  lions  may 
lack  and  suffer  hunger,  they  that  seek  the 
Lord  shall  not  want  any  good  thing.  He 
is  therefore  careful  for  nothing,  but  in  every 
thing  by  prayer  and  supplication  with  thanks- 
giving he  makes  known  his  requests  unto 
God,  and  the  peace  of  God  that  passeth  all 
understanding  keeps  his  heart  and  mind 
through  Christ  Jesus. 

Did  the  Jubilee  confer  liberty  ?  This  the 
gospel  realizes.  We  had  sold  ourselves  for 
nought.  We  were  led  captive  by  the  devil 
at  his  will.  We  were  the  slaves  of  sin.  We 
served  divers  lusts  and  pleasures.  But 
"where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  there  is 
liberty."  "  Ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the 
truth  shall  make  you  free ;  and  if  the  Son 
make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed."  No 


202 


THE  JUBILEE. 


longer  unable  to  hearken  to  the  voice  of  con- 
science, or  follow  the  dictates  of  our  under- 
standings ;  no  longer  the  vassals  of  pride,  of 
avarice,  of  envy,  of  malice ;  no  longer  under 
the  tyranny  of  our  passions,  our  appetites, 
our  senses — we  are  the  Lord's  free  men :  we 
are  brought  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the 
Sons  of  God. 

Did  the  Jubilee  insure  remission  of  debts? 
This  the  gospel  realizes.  Did  we  owe 
much,  and  were  we  able  to  pay  nothing  ! 
Had  our  iniquities  increased  over  our  heads, 
and  became  a  burden  too  heavy  for  us  to 
bear?  Was  the  adversary  ready  to  deliver 
us  to  the  judge,  and  the  judge  to  the  officer  ! 
"  Deliver,"  said  the  voice,  "from  going  down 
into  the  pit,  for  I  have  found  a  ransom.  With 
the  Lord  there  is  mercy,  and  with  him  there 
is  plenteous  redemption.  I  even  I  am  he 
that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for  my 
own  name  sake  ;  and  will  not  remember  thy 
sins."  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and 
the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts:  and  let 
him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have 
mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will 
abundantly  pardon." 

Did  the  Jubilee  restore  alienated  estates. 
This  the  gospel  realizes.  Heaven  was  to 
have  been  our  possession — we  were  origin- 
ally heirs  of  it.  We  forfeited  our  title;  and 
were  left  without  hope.  But  behold  tiiepoor 
and  the  needy  enriched.  Behold  the  trea- 
sures of  eternity  promised  them.  See  them 
not  only  "justified  by  his  grace;"  but  "made 
heirs  according  to  the  hope  of  eternal  life." 
"  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  which  according  to  his  abund- 
ant mercy  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a 
lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ  from  the  dead,  to  an  inheritance  incor- 
ruptible and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away,  reserved  in  heaven  for  you,  who  are 
kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto 
salvation  ready  to  be  revealed  in  the  last 
time." 

Was  the  Jubilee  proclaimed  on  the  day  of 
expiation,  and  as  soon  as  the  atonement  was 
offered  1  This  the  gospel  realizes.  No  sooner 
had  our  Saviour  given  himself  "  an  offering 
and  a  sacrifice  to  God  of  a  sweet-smelling  sa- 
vour," than  the  heavens  smiled,  and  the  earth 
rejoiced.  The  messengers  of  reconciliation 
were  sent  forth  to  "  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature."  They  began  in  Jerusalem ;  but 
the  good  news  was  published  in  every  coun- 
try :  and  the  message  shall  continue  to  spread 
till  it  has  reached  "  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
and  all  flesh  shall  see  the  salvation  of  our 
God  together." 

Let  us  not  hastily  pass  over  this  part  of  our 
subject.  We  wish  you  never  to  forget,  that, 
as  the  Jewish  Jubilee  began  in  the  typical 
atonement  of  Aaron,  so  the  Christian  Jubilee 
is  founded  in  the  real  atonement  of  Christ. 
We  read  of  a  purpose  of  grace  before  the 


world  began ;  but  it  was  given  us  "  in  him." 
We  hear  of  eternal  life ;  but  it  is  "  in  him." 
We  say  we  have  righteousness  and  strength ; 
but  it  is  "  in  him."  Examine  the  scheme  of 
salvation  in  all  its  parts,  and  in  all  its  pro- 
gress; and  the  necessity  of  a  mediator  is 
never  left  out.  And  how  was  he  a  mediator  1 
Precisely  in  the  same  way  as  the  high  priest 
who  typified  him.  It  was  by  sacrifice  that 
Aaron,  on  the  behalf  of  the  people,  inter- 
posed, interceded,  blessed.  And  when  Christ 
came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost, 
he  "  gave  his  life  a  ransom  for  many."  When 
he  returned,  "he  entered  with  his  own  blood 
into  the  holy  place,  having  obtained  eternal 
redemption  for  us."  Hence  it  is  said  "  in 
him  we  have  redemption  through  his  blood, 
even  the  forgiveness  of  sins  :"  we  "  have  bold- 
ness to  enter  into  the  holiest  of  all  by  the 
blood  of  Jesus:"  they  who  are  before  the 
throne,  "  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made 
them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

We  learn  from  hence,  that  the  atonement 
of  Christ  is  an  essential  blessing,  a  compre- 
hensive blessing;  that  every  thing  else  de- 
pends upon  it,  and  results  from  it ;  that  to 
this  we  owe  all  our  deliverance,  and  all  our 
hope.  No  wonder  therefore  that  the  apostle 
should  make  it  a  leading  object,  and  even 
among  the  polite  and  learned  Corinthians  be- 
gin with  it:  "I  delivered  unto  you  first  of 
all,  that  which  I  also  received,  how  that  Jesus 
Christ  died  for  our  sins  according  to  the 
scriptures."  No  wonder  he  should  make  it 
his  last,  as  well  as  his  first  concern — no  won- 
der he  should  make  it  his  only  one  ;  "  I  de- 
termined to  know  nothing  among  you  save 
Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified."  No  won- 
der he  abhorred  the  thought  of  exulting  in 
any  thing  beside ;  and  exclaimed  "  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  No  wonder  the 
church  of  God  in  all  ages,  have  found  their 
happiest  moments  to  have  been  those  in  which 
they  could  say,  "  Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood, 
and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God 
and  his  Father,  be  glory  and  dominion  for 
ever  and  ever."  No  wonder  that  those  who 
have  finished  their  course  with  joy,  and  no 
longer  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  should 
sing  a  new  song,  saying,  "  Thou  wast  slain, 
and  hast  redeemed  us  unto  God  by  thy  blood, 
out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people, 
and  nation."  .  No  wonder  the  angels  round 
about  the  throne,  and  the  beasts  and  the  el- 
ders, and  whose  number  is  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands, 
should  say  with  "  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power, 
and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and 
power,  and  glory,  and  blessing." 

What  then  can  we  think  of  those  who  con- 
ceal, who  deny,  who  insult  the  atoning  death 
of  our  Lord  and  Saviour? 


THE  JUBILEE. 


203 


What  are  your  sentiments  and  dispositions 
with  regard  to  this  important  event? 

Ah  my  brethren  this  event  becomes  a  test : 
a  test  to  try  our  schemes,  our  character,  our 
destiny :  a  test  the  most  awful :  a  test  esta- 
blished by  an  authority  from  which  there  lies 
no  appeal.  "  We  preach  Christ  crucified, 
unto  the  Jews  a  stumbling  block ;  and  unto 
the  Greeks  foolishness  :  but  unto  them  which 
are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  He 
that  despised  Moses'  law  died  without  mercy, 
under  two  or  three  witnesses:  of  how  much 
sorer  punishment,  suppose  ye,  shall  he  be 
thought  worthy,  who  hath  trodden  under  foot 
the  Son  of  God,  and  hath  counted  the  blood 
of  the  covenant,  wherewith  he  was  sanctified, 
an  unholy  thing,  and  hath  done  despite  unto 
the  spirit  of  grace." 

To  conclude.  Having  discovered  the  na- 
ture and  excellency  of  the  gospel,  we  learn, 
my  brethren,  the  way  in  which  it  is  to  be  re- 
garded by  us.  It  demands  joy  and  gladness. 
It  is  a  Jubilee ;  and  preachers  and  hearers 
should  animate  each  other,  and  say,  "  O  mag- 
nify the  Lord  with  me,  and  let  us  exalt  his 
name  together."  "  This  is  the  day  which 
the  Lord  has  made,  we  will  rejoice  and  be 
glad  in  it" 

With  what  satisfaction  and  pleasure  would 
a  Jewish  priest  proclaim  the  arrival  of  the 
Jubilee  ?  And  shall  a  Christian  minister  be 
cold  and  senseless,  who  has  "  this  grace 
given,  to  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ]"  O  what  a 
privilege  to  go  and  publish,  that  God  "  has 
not  spared  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him 
up  for  us  all,  and  that  with  him  he  will  also 
freely  give  us  all  things:  that  God  is  in 
Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself, 
not  in  putting  their  trespasses  unto  them."  I 
would  rather  be  employed  in  announcing  this 
intelligence  to  sinners,  than  be  destined  to 
blow  the  trump  of  the  archangel  that  shall 
awake  the  dead.  I  would  rather  call  you 
to  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  than  to  the  tribunal 
of  the  Judge. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  with  what  emotions 
the  proclamation  of  Jubilee  was  heard  by  the 
inhabitants  of  Judea,  and  especially  by  those 
who  were  so  deeply  interested  in  the  mes- 
sage. And  what  comparison  is  there  be- 
tween the  concerns  of  time,  and  those  of 
eternity  ?  What  is  the  relief  of  the  body  to 
the  welfare  of  the  soul  ?  Will  you  not  there- 
fore, with  a  joy  proportionably  greater,  ex- 
claim, "  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains 
are  the  feet  of  him  thatbringeth  good  tidings, 
that  publisheth  peace;  that  bringeth  good 
tidings  of  good,  that  publisheth  salvation; 
that  saith  unto  Zion,  Thy  God  reigneth !" 
Thus  the  gospel  was  originally  embraced. 
The  Thessalonians  received  it  "in  much  af- 
fliction," yet  "  with  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 
When  by  the  affecting  ministry  of  the  apos- 


tle "  before  the  eyes  of  the  Galatians,  Jesus 
Christ  was  evidently  set  forth  crucified 
among"  them ;  they  were  "  blessed,"  and 
"  could  have  plucked  out  their  own  eyes,  and 
have  given  them"  to  the  messenger  who 
brought  them  such  welcome  tidings.  When 
Philip  went  down  and  "preached  Christ  in 
Samaria,  there  was  great  joy  in  that  city." 
And  is  the  nature  of  the  gospel  changed  ? 
Is  the  importance  of  it  diminished  ?  Are 
the  blessings  it  communicates,  and  the  hopes 
it  inspires  less  valuable  and  necessary  ? 

The  gospel,  my  brethren,  is  not  a  specula- 
tion. It  is  not  a  matter  of  idle  curiosity.  It 
is  not  the  solution  of  a  problem,  or  the  de- 
cision of  a  point  in  debate,  the  knowledge  of 
which  can  merely  affect  the  judgment.  It 
brings  us  "  good  tidings  of  great  joy."  It  is 
not  only  wonderful  but  interesting.  It  is  not 
only  "  a  faithful  saying  ;"  but  "  worthy  of  all 
acceptation."  It  is  "  all  our  salvation  ;"  and 
it  should  be  "  all  our  desire."  It  is  "  our 
glory  ;"  and  should  be  "  our  joy." 

There  are  some  who  have  thus  heard  the 
gospel,  and  whose  condition  is  described  by 
David  in  these  words  :  "  Blessed  is  the  peo- 
ple that  know  the  joyful  sound  :  they  shall 
walk,  O  Lord,  in  the  light  of  thy  countenance. 
In  thy  name  shall  they  rejoice  all  the  day  : 
and  in  thy  righteousness  shall  they  be  exalt- 
ed." But  it  is  to  be  feared  there  are  those 
in  this  large  assembly  to  whom  the  intelli- 
gence is  a  thing  of  nought.  Ye  make  "  light 
of  it  and  go  your  way,  one  to  his  farm,  and 
another  to  his  merchandise."  What  shall 
we  say  to  your  folly,  to  your  wickedness,  to 
your  danger,  in  refusing  the  advantages 
which  the  gospel  exhibits  to  your  view,  and 
presses  upon  your  acceptance  ?  Are  these 
blessings  unsuited  to  your  condition]  Are 
they  of  no  value  ?  Can  the  world  indemnify 
you  for  the  loss  of  them  ?  Can  you  find  a 
substitute  for  them — in  the  distress  of  con- 
science— in  the  season  of  affliction — in  the 
hour  of  death — and  in  the  day  of  judgment? 
Do  you  not  defy  the  authority  of  God?  Do 
you  not  despise  the  riches  of  his  goodness  ? 
Do  you  not  judge  yourselves  unworthy  of 
everlasting  life  ?  Are  you  not  unspeakably 
criminal  ?  Will  you  go  unpunished  ?  "  How 
can  you  escape  if  you  neglect  so  great  salva- 
tion !" 

"Now  IS  THE  ACCEPTED  TIME:   NOW  IS 

the  day  of  salvation."  And  will  it  last 
for  ever?  Will  it  last  long?  How  know 
you  but  that  he  who  has  so  often  addressed 
you  in  vain,  is  ready  "  to  shut  to  the  door" 
saying,  "  O  that  thou  hadst  known — even 
thou — at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things 
that  belong  to  thy  peace — but  now — they  are 
hid  from  thine  eyes  !" — It  is  time,  it  is  high 
time,  but  blessed  be  his  name  it  is  not  at 
present  too  late.  O  !  seek  him  while  he  may 
be  found,  and  call  upon  him  while  he  is 
near. 


204 


THE  JUBILEE. 


From  these  solemn  reflections,  I  must  ad- 
vert to  the  occasion  of  the  subject  that  gave 
rise  to  them.  And  I  hope  it  will  not  be 
deemed  improper  or  unimportant,  if  I  give 
you  a  few  hints  of  admonition  concerning  it. 

And  first:  While  you  show  your  loyalty 
beware  of  impiety.  Many  it  is  to  be  feared 
will  sadly  evince  their  regard  to  the  king,  by 
sinning  against  God;  and  thus  augment  our 
national  transgression,  which  is  heavy  enough 
already  to  sink  us  beyond  the  hope  of  a  politi- 
cal resurrection. — You  glory  in  the  moral 
example  of  your  sovereign,  "  whose  life's  a 
lesson  to  the  land  he  sways" — why  then — 
resemble  him,  and  do  not  disgrace  the  event 
you  commemorate,  by  indulging  in  every 
kind  of  dissipation  and  intemperance. 

Secondly.  "  Rejoice  with  trembling." 
You  ought  to  rejoice  in  the  virtuous  charac- 
ter, the  domestic  excellencies,  and  the  mild 
dominion  of  our  long  spared  monarch  ;  but  it 
is  not  to  be  denied,  that  through  the  awful 
destinations  of  Providence,  his  reign  has  been 
peculiarly  trying  and  calamitous.  You  ought 
to  rejoice  in  our  exemptions  and  privileges  ; 
they  are  many  and  they  are  great,  especially 
when  compared  with  our  desert,  or  the  con- 
dition of  neighbouring  nations  :  but  it  is  not, 
for  any  purpose  to  be  concealed,  that  we  live 
in  "  a  cloudy  and  a  dark  day ;"  that  the  com- 
plexion of  our  public  affairs  is  gloomy  rather 
than  soothing ;  and  that  an  impression  of  hu- 
miliation, rather  than  of  exultation,  should  be 
attempted;  or  at  least  that  the  one  should 
qualify  the  other.  Without  this,  we  may  be 
reminded  of  the  words  of  Isaiah,  on  the 
threatened  invasion  of  Jewry  by  the  Per- 
sians: "And  in  that  day  did  the  Lord  God 
of  Hosts  call  to  weeping  and  to  mourning, 
and  to  baldness,  and  to  girding  with  sack- 
cloth :  and  behold,  joy  and  gladness,  slaying 
oxen  and  killing  sheep,  eating  flesh,  and 
drinking  wine  :  let  us  eat  and  drink;  for  to- 
morrow we  shall  die.  And  it  was  revealed 
in  mine  ears  by  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  surely 
this  iniquity  shall  not  be  purged  from  you, 
till  ye  die,  saith  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts." 

Thirdly.  Blend  prayer  with  your  praises. 
While  you  give  thanks  to  the  God  of  our 
mercies,  for  the  long-continued  profusion  of 
blessings  that  has  distinguished  our  national 
heritage ;  for  our  insular  situation ;  for  the 
temperature  of  our  climate ;  for  the  fruitful- 
ness  of  our  soil  and  our  seasons ;  for  our  ad- 
mired constitution  and  code  of  laws ;  for  our 
civil  and  religious  freedom ;  for  our  number- 


less deliverances  and  preservations — while  in 
particular  you  bless  "  the  God  in  whose  hand 
our  breath  is,"  for  extending  the  reign  of  our 
beloved  monarch  to  a  period  which  so  very 
few  of  his  predecessors  ever  reached :  pray 
that  with  "long  life  he  would  satisfy  him, 
and  show  him  his  salvation."  Pray  that  he 
would  support  and  comfort  him  under  the  in- 
firmities of  years,  and  the  cares  of  govern- 
ment. Pray  that  he  would  "  give  the  king 
his  judgments,  and  his  righteousness  unto  the 
king's  son."  Pray  that  it  may  not  be  said  of 
us,  as  it  was  of  Judea,  "There  is  none  to 
guide  her  of  all  the  sons  whom  she  has 
brought  forth."  Pray  that  he  whose  preroga- 
tive it  is  to  make  great,  would  raise  up  wise 
and  able  ministers,  "  discerning  the  times,  and 
knowing  what  Israel  ought  to  do."  Pray 
that  our  magistrates  may  be  "men  fearing 
God  and  hating  covetousness ;"  that  our  offi- 
cers may  be  peace,  and  our  exactors  righte- 
ousness." Pray  that  dissention  may  not  pre- 
vail in  our  councils,  or  "a  perverse  spirit"  in 
our  country.  Pray,  that,  as  all  hearts  and  all 
events  are  under  his  control,  he  would  open 
a  way,  and  restore  to  us  the  blessedness  of 
peace.  Pray  that  his  word  may  have  free 
course  and  be  glorified.  Pray  that  he  would 
be  "  merciful  unto  us,  and  bless  us,  and  cause 
his  face  to  shine  upon  us,  that  we  may  be 
saved."  To  this  needful  exercise  let  a  por- 
tion of  the  day  be  sacred,  in  the  sanctuary, 
in  the  family,  in  the  closet. 
I  only  add, 

Fourthly.  Let  liberality  accompany  your 
festivity.  Stretch  out  your  hand  to  the  poor. 
Visit  the  abode  of  misery.  Contribute  to  the 
release  of  some  unfortunate  debtor.  Cause 
some  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  Let  the 
blind  hail  a  day  they  are  forbidden  to  see. 
Let  the  aged  feel  themselves  young  again, 
and  talk  of  the  things  they  did  in  the  old 
time,  before  many  of  us.  *  Some — many — 
ah !  how  many,  eat  nothing  from  day  to  day, 
but  "  the  bread  of  sorrows" — Let  them  taste 
comfort,  and  "  forget  their  misery."  "  Go  your 
way,  eat  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet,  and 
send  portions  unto  them  for  whom  nothing  is 
prepared :  for  this  day  is  holy  unto  our  Lord : 
neither  be  ye  sorry ;  for  the  joy  of  the  Lord 
is  your  strength." 

God  save  the  King  ;  and  let  all  the  peo- 
ple say  Amen. 

*  Here  the  preacher  had  the  pleasure  to  announce, 
that  a  comfortable  dinner  would  be  provided  for  all  the 
children  of  the  Sunday -school,  the  poor  of  the  church, 
and  the  poor  of  the  congregation. 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST: 

A  DISCOURSE 

DELIVERED  AT  ST.  THOMAS  SQUARE,  HACKNEY,  OCTOBER  31,  1811 ; 
ON  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  THE 

REV.  HENRY  FORSTER  BURDER,  A.M. 

AS  ASSISTANT  PREACHER  TO  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  PALMER 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


Brethren,  pray  for  us. — 1  Thess.  v.  25. 

From  what  a  trifling  elevation  will  one 
man  look  down  upon  another  with  conse- 
quence, if  not  contempt.  God  has  made  of 
one  blood  all  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  he  has 
derived  the  whole  human  race  from  one  ori- 
ginal pair ;  he  has  invested  them  with  the 
same  faculties,  he  has  rendered  them  capable 
of  the  same  satisfactions,  he  has  subjected 
them  to  the  same  wants  and  infirmities — and 
thus  he  has  related  and  equalized  them  all. 
Yet  kings  do  not  call  their  subjects ;  masters 
do  not  call  their  servants — Brethren.  Even 
ministers  too  exclusively  appropriate  the  ap- 
pellation of  Brother  to  individuals  of  their 
own  order,  as  if  they  were  peculiar,  if  not 
superior  beings. 

But  observe  Paul.  The  apostles  were  the 
most  extraordinary  personages  the  world  or 
the  church  ever  possessed.  They  stood  se- 
condary in  dignity  and  authority  to  the  Son 
of  God.  They  received  communications  im- 
mediately from  heaven.  They  could  pierce 
futurity,  and  unveil  things  to  come.  They 
could  discern  spirits.  They  could  raise  the 
dead.  Yet  Paul,  though  an  apostle,  here 
calls  the  Thessalonians,  Brethren  ;  and  sup- 
plicates the  prayers  of  common  believers. — 
Brethren,  pray  for  us. 

And  if  inspired  men,  if  miraculous  men — 
if  apostles  were  led  to  ask  for  the  prayers  of 
their  people,  what  wonder  if  this  should  be 
the  case  with  modern  ministers,  who  can 
make  no  claims  to  any  thing  preternatural? 

This  then  is  the  single,  but  comprehensive 
request  we  have  to  make  this  morning  in  the 
behalf  of  our  venerable  friend,  who  has 
long  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day, 
and  for  near  half  a  century  has  sustained  the 

18 


pastoral  office  in  this  church;  and  on  the  be- 
half of  our  amiable  brother,  who  has  been 
unanimously  chosen  to  assist  him  in  holy 
things,  and  will  in  future  labour  with  him,  as 
a  son  with  the  father,  in  the  gospel.  Imagine 
them  now  rising  up,  and  by  my  lips  addressing 
you  in  language,  which  I  am  sure  expresses 
the  feelings  and  wishes  of  their  hearts — Bre- 
thren, pray  for  us  :  while  the  preacher,  and 
every  fellow-minister  attending  the  service 
cries — And  for  me  also. 

Let  us  consider  the  propriety  of  the  demand. 
Let  us  examine  it  on  two  grounds. 

I.  The  ground  of  necessity. 

II.  The  ground  of  equity. 

I.  Let  us  examine  it  on  the  ground  of  ne- 
cessity. It  will  be  found  necessary  if  you 
consider 

First,  their  work.  They  who  imagine  that 
the  ministry  of  the  gospel  is  an  idle,  or  an 
easy  task,  are  grossly  mistaken;  and  were  it 
not  that  the  honour  of  God  is  concerned  in  it, 
we  should  say  to  them,  Make  the  trial.  The 
experiment,  if  fairly  made,  would  soon  con- 
vince them  of  the  truth  of  Dr.  Doddridge's 
words — 

'Tis  not  a  work  of  small  import, 

The  pastor's  care  demands ; 
But  what  might  fill  an  angel's  heart, 

And  fill'd  the  Saviour's  hands. 

Every  minister  may  say  with  Nehemiah, 
/  am  doing  a  great  work.  Indeed  it  regards 
every  thing  that  is  great :  the  soul ;  God ;  and 
eternity.  It  is  a  work  that  cannot  be  prose- 
cuted without  constant  application  and  la- 
bour— and  such  application  and  labour,  as 
often  exhaust  the  spirits,  and  bring  youth  and 
old  age  together. 

For  the  office  is  not  to  be  judged  of  by  the 
205 


206 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


manner  in  which  it  is  frequently  filled  up. 
There  are  too  many  who  make  it  a  sinecure, 
disregarding  its  duties,  and  looking  to  their 
own  way,  everyone  for  his  gain,  from  his 
quarter.  They  are  dumb  dogs ;  they  cannot 
bark ;  sleeping,  lying  down,  loving  to  slum- 
ber.   But  how  is  it  represented  by  him  who 
instituted  the  high  calling?  The  Scripture 
defines  a  minister  as  a  labourer ;  a  workman 
that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed  :  it  holds  him 
forth  as  watchman;  a  fisherman ;  a  husband- 
man ;  a  builder;  a  soldier;  a  wrestler;  a 
racer. — What  are  the  obligations  of  a  good 
minister  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  He  meets  the  actual 
and  diversified  state  of  his  people,  and  com- 
mends himself  to  every  man's  conscience  in 
the  sight  of  God.    He  seeks  out  acceptable 
words  as  well  as  words  of  truth.    By  adapta- 
tion, and  not  by  trimming,  he  becomes  all 
things  to  all  men.    He  warns  them  that  are 
unruly:  comforts  the  feeble-minded ;  upholds 
the  weak;   reclaims  the  wandering;  and 
guards  the  exposed.    By  a  faithful  and  judi- 
cious application  of  the  promises  and  threaten- 
ings,  reproofs  and  encouragements  of  the  gos- 
pel, he  takes  forth  the  precious  from  the  vile, 
and  is  as  God's  mouth.    He  levies  a  tax  of 
improvement  for  the  edification  of  his  hearers 
upon  all  events  and  occurrences.    His  study 
is  not  confined  to  an  hour  of  constrained,  per- 
turbed thought  on  a  Saturday  evening — he  is 
observing  and  collecting  all  the  week.  lie 
gives  himself  to  the  word  of  God  and  prayer. 
He  does  not  sit  smoking  and  trifling  in  com- 
pany till  the  appointed  moment  of  worship 
arrives ;  he  is  previously,  and  much  with  God 
alone:  and  when  he  enters  the  sanctuary  he 
is  like  Aaron  when  the  rich  oil  had  been 
poured  upon  his  head;  and  the  priest  was 
betrayed  by  the  savour  as  well  as  by  the 
service.    The  spirit  of  devotion  rests  upon 
him  in  the  absence  of  all  his  official  adminis- 
trations.  The  parlour  does  not  war  with  the 
pulpit:  he  is  the  man  of  God  in  all  his  social 
intercourse.    Wherever  he  is,  he  produces  a 
religious  atmosphere,  whose  innocent,  genial, 
and  improving  influence  is  felt  by  all  who 
breathe  within  its  reach.    He  rules  well  his 
own  house,  having  his  children  in  subjection 
with  all  gravity ;  for  if  a  man  knows  not 
how  to  rule  his  own  house,  how  shall  he  take 
care  of  the  church  of  God  1    He  is  an  ex- 
ample of  believers  in  word,  in  conversation, 
in  charity,  in  spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity. 

It  would  be  endless  to  specify  all  the  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  ministerial  function.  But  the 
imperfect  sketch  we  have  given  of  them,  leads 
us  to  exclaim,  Who  is  sufficient  for  these 
things  ? — Is  a  fallen  creature  ?  Is  a  man  of 
like  passions  and  infirmities  with  yourselves] 
Is  a  worm  ?  Brethren,  pray  for  us.  It  is 
necessary  if  you  consider 

Secondly,  Their  trials.  A  minister  is  a 
truly  honourable  character;  but  I  fear  the 
employment  is  often  viewed  too  much  on  the 


side  of  the  pleasing  and  attractive.  Hence 
many  desire  the  office  of  a  bishop  ;  and  they 
certainly  desire  a  good  work.  But  it  is  at 
the  same  time  a  burden  as  well  as  an  honour. 
Its  advantages  are  purchased  at  the  expense 
of  numberless  privations  and  sacrifices ;  and 
therefore  it  behoves  the  minister  as  well  as 
the  Christian  to  count  the  cost.  If  this  were 
done,  many,  instead  of  pushing  themselves 
forward,  would  be  found,  even  when  called 
for,  hid  among  the  stuff  They  would  require 
to  be  drawn  forth :  and  even  then  would  be 
ready  to  say,  Send,  Lord,  by  whom  thou  tcilt 
send. 

I  hardly  know  a  greater  object  of  commi- 
seration, than  a  minister  who  enters  suf- 
ficiently into  the  spirit  of  his  work — to  reach 
and  grapple  with  its  difficulties.  It  is  well 
the  scene  gradually  opens.  The  Lord  draws 
us  on  by  a  sense  of  our  obligation  to  his  re- 
deeming love,  and  the  value  of  perishing 
souls ;  but  leaves  us  to  acquire  the  knowledge 
of  what  is  discouraging  by  slow  degrees. 
Thus  experience  rectifies  what  was  errone- 
ous, and  supplies  what  was  defective  in  specu- 
lation. Hence  the  ministry  has  been  compared 
to  John's  little  book,  a  bitter  sweet;  and  we 
have  been  told  that  the  sweet  comes  first. 
The  bitter  is  tasted  when  we  are  gone  too 
far  to  recede  with  honour  or  safety :  when 
we  know  that  if  we  decline  the  prophet's 
message,  we  shall  have  to  encounter  the  pro- 
phet's storm :  when  conscience  comes  for- 
ward, and  says,  Necessity  is  laid  upon  me  ; 
yea,  wo  is  unto  me  if  I  preach  not  the  gos- 
pel. 

A  minister  has  trials  in  common  with  men ; 
he  has  trials  in  common  with  Christians ;  and 
in  addition  to  both  these,  he  has  trials  pecu- 
liar to  himself.  No  man  is  so  liable  to  mis- 
representation. He  is  the  subject  of  general, 
and  therefore  of  ignorant  criticism.  He  is 
often  censured  when  he  acts  with  the  great- 
est wisdom  and  rectitude,  by  those  who  can- 
not discern  the  circumstances  that  guide,  or 
appreciate  the  motives  that  sway  him.  He 
frequently  makes  persons  his  enemies  be- 
cause he  tells  them  the  truth.  Many  are  un- 
steady in  their  attendance,  and  fickle  in  their 
attachments.  Such  hearers  frequently  en- 
deavour to  justify  themselves  by  accusing  the 
preacher:  they  are  not  capricious,  but  can  no 
longer  profit  under  his  ministry.  After,  per- 
haps, hearing  a  new  preacher  every  Sabbath, 
and  five  sermons  a  week,  and  acquiring  a 
fastidiousness  and  a  vagrancy  of  mind  that 
nothing  can  satisfy  or  fix ;  they  impute  to 
him  the  effect  of  a  change  which  has  only 
taken  place  in  themselves.  If  they  cannot 
undermine  his  character  they  will  assail  his 
orthodoxy.  If  he  preaches — as  he  ought  to 
do — the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  richly  and 
openly,  he  may  be  deemed  an  Antinomian : 
and  if  he  does  justice  to  the  whole  scheme  of 
divine  truth — and  the  gospel  may  be  abridged 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


207 


where  it  is  not  mangled — and  brings  for- 
ward doctrines  in  their  experimental  and 
practical  bearings,  he  may  be  vilified  as  a 
legalist.  It  is  not  an  unusual  thing  for  those 
who  were  once  ready  to  pull  out  their  eyes 
for  his  sake,  to  leave  his  labours,  and  to  pass 
him  unnoticed  in  the  street. 

This  is  not  the  only  quarter  from  which  he 
sutlers.  There  are,  perhaps,  individuals  in 
his  church  of  whom  lie  stands  in  doubt.  With 
many  things  in  them,  that  are  amiable  and 
useful,  there  are  some  things  exceptionable 
and  painful.  They  endure  his  fidelity  ;  they 
are  not  offended  with  his  reproofs;  but  go  on. 
He  seems  neither  justified  to  exclude,  or 
continue  them  in  the  fellowship  of  the  church. 
They  give  their  pastor  many  proofs  of  tiieir 
kindness. — 0 !  that  they  would  give  him  one 
more ;  and  abandon  those  few  inconsistencies 
which  prove  his  perplexity  and  his  distress. 
O !  that  they  would  set  his  heart  at  rest,  and 
free  him  from  the  reflections  of  the  censori- 
ous, and  the  complaints  of  the  pious,  which  he 
is  so  often  compelled  to  hear. 

Again  observe  the  preacher.  At  the  time 
appointed  he  must  appear,  whatever  be  his 
frame,  or  his  feelings.  He  must  preach,  yet 
seems  to  have  nothing  worthy  of  communica- 
tion. He  must  rouse  others  to  zeal,  while 
his  own  mind  is  languid;  and  administer 
comfort  to  others,  while  his  own  soul  is  dis- 
quieted within  him:  though,  like  an  officer 
in  the  field,  he  is  compelled  to  hide  his  fears 
from  the  men.  He  often  sits  down  in  the 
pulpit  with  a  blush.  He  closes  the  Sabbath 
in  the  closet,  with  the  exclamation,  Lord,  who 
hath  believed  our  report !  He  fears  that  he 
has  been  preaching  into  perdition  many  of 
those  he  would  gladly  save ;  charged,  like 
Isaiah,  with  this  dreadful  commission  :  Make 
the  heart  of  this  people  fat,  and  make  their 
ears  heavy,  and  shut  their  eyes  ;  lest  they 
see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their  ears,' 
and  understand  with  their  heart,  and  convert, 
and  be  healed. — How  distressing  to  manure, 
and  plough,  and  sow,  and'  never  reap.  How 
grievous  to  see  the  blossoms  covering  the  tree 
in  the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  strewing 
the  ground.— When  he  looks  back  to  a  little 
success  with  which  he  was  indulged  at  the 
commencement  of  his  labours,  he  cries,  Wo 
is  me  .'for  I  am  as  when  they  have  gathered 
the  summer  fruits,  as  the  grape  gleanings 
of  the  vintage :  there  is  no  cluster  to  eat : 
my  soul  desired  the.  first-ripe  fruit. — He  often 
suspects  that  he  is  a  vessel  in  which  the  Lord 
no  longer  takes  pleasure.  He  dreads  stand- 
ing in  the  way  of  another's  usefulness.  In 
the  bitterness  of  his  soul  he  kneels  and  asks 
permission  to  retire. 

Ah,  my  brethren,  this  is  not  a  fancy  piece : 
it  is  taken  from  the  life.  Many  who  hear 
me  this  morning  know,  by  experience,  the 
truth  of  the  representation:  they  know  the 
representation  falls  below  the  truth.  You 


are  not  capable  of  entering  into  some  of  our 
trials:  and  we,  are  not  at  liberty  to  divulge 
others.  No.  Like  the  prophet  we  must  weep 
in  secret  places.  We  must  bleed  alone. 
Brethren,  pray  for  its.  It  is  necessary  if  we 
consider 

Thirdly,  Their  danger.  One  sinner  de- 
stroyeth  much  good.  The  fall  of  a  common 
professor  of  religion  is  a  judgment  on  the 
neighbourhood  in  which  it  happens.  It  causes 
the  worthy  name  by  which  we  are  called  to 
be  blasphemed.  It  hardens  and  justifies  sin- 
ners in  their  ungodliness.  It  proves  a  stum- 
bling block  to  the  weak,  and  a  grief  to  the 
strong.  But  the  mischief  is  much  greater 
when  a  minister  falls.  He  possesses  more 
influence,  and  is  more  liable  to  observation. 
He  cannot  be  hid.  The  sins  of  preachers  are 
the  preachers  of  sin. 

And  are  instances  of  ministerial  defection 
so  very  uncommon,  as  to  excite  no  alarm,  or 
to  render  caution  needless  ?  Would  to  God 
they  were.  But  how  many  have  we  wit- 
nessed or  heard  of,  even  in  our  day.  Some 
of  these  have  been  forced  to  enter  into  secu- 
lar life.  Some  have  crossed  the  sea,  and  com- 
menced the  pastor  where  the  sinner  is  un- 
known. Some,  after  a  spiritual  quarantine, 
have  been  admitted  again  by  their  former 
connexions,  as  wholesome  and  safe.  Some 
have  established  a  new  schismatical  interest, 
and  drawing  after  them  a  desperate  faction, 
who  pretend  to  be  satisfied  with  their  own 
avowals  of  innocency  or  repentance,  have 
become  more  popular  than  before.  In  ge- 
neral they  have  become  advocates  for  a 
higher  strain  of  doctrine,  that  will  not  re- 
proach their  laxity  of  morals;  and  making  up 
in  pride  what  they  want  in  purity,  profess  to 
see  things  clearly,  and  decry  others  as  blind. 
Licentiousness  is  the  liberty  wherewith  they 
imagine  Christ  has  made  them  free. — And  is 
there  not  in  us  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  in 
departing  from  the  living  God?  Have  we 
no  fleshly  lusts  that  war  against  the  soul  ? 
Are  not  we  passing  through  a  world  lying  in 
wickedness  !  Are  not  we  exposed  to  an  ad- 
versary, the  devil,  going  about  as  a  roaring 
lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour?  And 
does  not  this  enemy  know  his  interests  well 
enough  to  make  the  head  his  object;  and  in 
issuing  his  orders,  to  his  instruments  to  say — 
Aim  not  at  great  or  small,  but  at  the  King  of 
Israel;  smite  the  shepherd,  and  the  sheep 
shall  be  scattered  ? — Wherefore  let  him 
that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed,  lest  he 
fall. 

Has  a  minister  been  preserved  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  ?  He  ought  to  be  thankful ;  but 
not  to  remit  his  watch,  or  dismiss  his  guard. 
Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  ahoays.  We 
are  never  beyond  the  reach  of  temptation 
while  we  are  out  of  heaven.  Our  security 
in  one  trial  does  not  warrant  our  immunity 
in  another.    Joab,  who  was  faithful  to  his 


208 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


sovereign  in  the  rebellion  of  Absalom,  yet 
turned  aside  after  Adonijah.  If  a  minister 
be  not  overcome  of  vice ;  may  he  not  fall  by 
error,  by  vanity,  by  indolence,  by  dulness? 
If  he  escapes  from  gross  immorality ;  may  not 
his  excellencies  be  tarnished ;  his  talents  be 
injured ;  his  usefulness  defeated,  by  impru- 
dencies  ?  May  there  not  be  indulgences  at 
the  table,  where  there  is  no  gluttony?  May 
there  not  be  tippling  where  there  is  no  in- 
toxication ?  May  there  not  be  levities  and 
liberties  where  there  are  no  violations  of  vir- 
tue? May  there  not  be,  especially  in  the 
young  minister,  an  assumption  of  conse- 
quence, a  creation  of  trouble,  an  inattention 
to  order  and  regularity,  which,  while  he  sup- 
poses that  it  indicates  genius,  will  not  fail  to 
lower  him  in  the  esteefn  and  hope  of  the  fa- 
milies he  deranges  and  disgusts'?  If  he 
avoids  worldly  dissipation,  may  he  not  in- 
dulge in  religious ;  constantly  going  into  fes- 
tive circles  of  spiritual  triflers  and  gossips ; 
spending  his  evenings  generally  from  home ; 
retiring  late  to  rest,  and  never  rising  early? 
If  he  be  not  chargeable  with  filthy  conversa- 
tion, which  is  not  lawful,  may  he  not  err  in 
foolish  talking  and  jesting  which  are  not  con- 
venient? May  he  not  be  the  rattle,  or  the 
harlequin  of  the  room  ?  If  he  be  not  inflam- 
matory, may  he  not  be  a  mere  newsmonger, 
or  a  noisy  dabbler  in  party  politics  ? 

O !  to  avoid  the  very  appearance  of  evil — 
to  give  none  offence  in  any  thing,  that  the 
ministry  be  not  blamed — but  in  all  things  ap- 
proving ourselves  the  ministers  of  God  in 
much  patience,  in  affliction,  in  necessities,  in 
distresses — by  pureness,  by  knowledge,  by 
longsuffering,  by  kindness,  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  by  love  unfeigned — by  the  word  of 
truth,  by  the  power  of  God,  by  the  armour  of 
righteousness  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left — to  finish  our  course  with  joy  and  ho- 
nour like  those  dignified  beings  who  once 
presided  over  this  church ;  a  Bates,  and  a 
Henry — to  lay  down  our  charge  unstained 
— like  a  Newton  and  a  Winter,  and  leave 
nothing  that  requires  defence  or  extenuation ; 
nothing  but  what  is  lovely,  and  of  good  re- 
port— Brethren,  pray  for  us.  It  is  necessary 
if  we  consider 

Fourthly,  their  dependence.  This  is  abso- 
lute, and  extends  to  every  thing. — It  extends 
to  their  natural  life.  The  preservation  of 
their  health,  their  strength,  their  senses,  de- 
pends upon  God. — It  extends  to  their  intel- 
lectual powers.  The  continuance  and  use 
of  their  judgment,  their  memory,  their  inven- 
tion, their  fancy,  depend  upon  God. — It  ex- 
tends to  their  spiritual  endowments.  The 
continuance  and  the  exercise  of  their  faith, 
their  hope,  their  love,  their  courage,  their 
fidelity,  their  tenderness  in  the  discharge  of 
their  office,  depend  upon  God. — It  extends  to 
all  their  devotional  duties.    The  preparation 


of  the  heart  and  the  answer  of  the  tongue  in 
man,  are  from  the  Lord. — It  extends  to  the 
success  of  all  their  labours.  The  heart  should 
be  the  great  aim  of  our  preaching ;  but  this 
is  under  a  Divine  disposal.    It  is  said  of 
Lydia,  whose  heart  the  Lord  opened,  that 
she  attended  to  the  things  which  were  spoken 
of  Paul.  Our  gospel,  says  the  apostle  to  the 
Thessalonians,  came  to  you  not  in  word  only, 
but  in  power  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  in 
much  assurance.    We  readily  allow  that 
there  was  something  extraordinary  in  this 
case ;  and  we  know  that  miracles  have  ceased. 
But  God  continues  to  give  testimony  to  the 
word  of  his  grace ;  and  the  effects  that  at- 
tend the  dispensation  of  divine  truth  require, 
and  demonstrate  a  divine  agency.    It  is 
granted,  that  there  is  a  subjective  suitable- 
ness in  the  ministry  of  the  word  to  do  good ; 
as  there  is  in  a  sword  to  wound,  and  in  a  pen 
to  write.    But  what  is  the  sword  without  a 
hand  to  wield,  or  the  pen  without  a  hand  to 
guide  it?    And  who  is  Paul  or  who  is  Apol- 
los,  but  ministers  by  whom  ye  believed  even 
as  the  Lord  gave  to  every  man  ?    So  then 
neither  is  he  that  planteth  any  thing,  neither 
he  that  watereth ;  but  God  that  giveth  the 
increase.    A  minister  without  his  master  is 
like  Gehazi.    He  may  go  with  the  staff,  and 
lay  it  upon  the  dead ;  but  there  will  be  no 
life  till  Elisha  himself  comes.    To  refer  to  a 
well  known  anecdote.    When  Melancthon 
was  first  converted,  he  thought  he  should 
soon  convert  all  his  hearers.    He  supposed 
that  others  must  see  what  he  saw  so  clearly, 
and  feel  what  he  felt  so  powerfully.    But  his 
success  did  not  correspond  with  his  expecta- 
tion ;  and  at  length  he  was  compelled  to  con- 
fess, That  old  Adam  was  too  strong  for  young 
Melancthon.    And  this  I  presume  is  one  of 
those  truths  which  we  grow  in  the  belief  of 
as  we  advance  in  years.    And  therefore, 
though  I  hope  we  do  not  study  less,  we  pray 
more :  though  we  are  not  less  active,  we  are 
more  dependent.  The  conviction  in  time  be- 
comes so  strong  from  observation  and  experi- 
ence, that  we  should  be  completely  dis- 
couraged in  our  work,  did  we  not  read,  that 
as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from 
heaven,  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  water- 
eth the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and 
bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and 
bread  to  the  eater ;  so  shall  my  word  be  that 
goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth  :  it  shall  not 
return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish 
that  xuhich  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in 
the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it. 

If  therefore  you  wish  us  to  live;  to  be 
strong  to  labour ;  to  be  spiritual  and  useful : 
to  preach  as  with  the  Holy  Ghost  sent  down 
from  heaven  ;  to  turn  many  to  righteousness ; 
to  help  those  much  who  have  believed  through 
grace ;  and  if  you  would  have  our  addresses 
I  effectual  to  wound  and  to  heal,  to  sanctify  and 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


209 


establish;  and  to  make  ready  a  people  pre- 
pared for  the  Lord — Brethren,  pray  for  us. 
It  is  necessary,  it'  we  consider 

Fifthly,  their  responsibility.  So  then,  says 
the  apostle,  every  one  of  us  shall  give  ac- 
count of  himself  to  God.  You  who  are  the 
members  of  this  church  and  congregation, 
are  not  to  imagine  that  you  have  parted  for 
ever  with  the  Sabbaths  through  which  you 
have  passed ;  the  sermons  you  have  heard ; 
the  devotional  exercises  on  which  you  have 
attended:  you  will  hear  of  them;  you  will 
hear  from  them  again.  They  are  dismissed 
for  the  time ;  but  are  like  men  bailed,  and 
bound  to  appear  and  prosecute  at  the  as- 
sizes. 

But  we  are  concerned  in  the  solemnities 
of  that  day,  as  well  as  you ;  and  in  a  sense, 
more  than  you.  Those  Sabbaths  through 
which  you  have  passed,  we  have  occupied. 
Those  sermons  which  you  have  heard,  we 
have  preached.  Those  devotional  exercises 
on  which  you  have  attended,  we  have  con- 
ducted ;  and  the  prospect  resulting  from  our 
obligation,  is  awful.  Blessed  be  God  we  are 
not  answerable  for  our  success.  Though  Is- 
rael be  not  gathered,  we  may  be  glorious  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord.  We  are  unto  God,  a 
sweet  savour  of  Christ,  in  them  that  are 
saved  and  in  them  that  perish.  To  the  one, 
we  are  a  savour  of  life  unto  life ;  to  the 
other,  we  are  the  savour  of  death  unto  death. 
But  there  is  enough  for  which  we  are  re- 
sponsible, to  make  our  faces  gather  paleness, 
and  our  knees  to  smite  one  against  another. 
We  watch  for  your  souls  as  they  that  must 
give  account.  Account  of  what"! — Of  these 
souls ;  for  if  we  have  not  given  them  warn- 
ing, and  they  die  in  their  sins,  their  blood 
will  be  required  at  our  hands — Of  this  watch- 
ing :  when  we  have  watched ;  how  we  have 
watched.  How  we  have  watched  to  gain 
them.  How  we  have  watched  to  form  them. 
How  we  have  watched  to  keep  them. — Of 
our  fidelity ;  our  zeal ;  our  influence. — Of 
our  conduct;  our  aims;  our  motives.  Who 
does  not  tremble  as  we  proceed  1 — 

All  to  the  great  tribunal  haste, 

The  account  to  render  there ; 
And  should'st  thou.  Lord,  but  mark  our  faults, 

Lord,  how  shall  we  appear? 

Brethren,  pray  for  us. 

Thus  far  we  have  addressed  ourselves  to 
your  compassion.  But  we  shall  now  appeal 
to  a  higher  principle — your  justice.  And 
having  examined  the  propriety  of  the  demand 
on  the  ground  of  necessity,  we  shall  now 
consider  it  on  the  ground  of  equity.  It  is 
the 

II.  part  of  our  subject.  Here  it  will  be 
proper  to  show — That  ministers  have  claims 
upon  you  :  and — To  inquire  in  what  manner 
your  praying  for  them  will  discharge  your 
obligation. 

Every  fellow-creature   ha3  claims  upon 
2  D  18* 


you. — And  you  are  required  to  pray  for  all 
men.  Your  fellow-christians  of  every  com- 
munity have  claims  upon  you. — And  you  are 
enjoined  to  make  supplication  for  all  saints. 
And  have  your  ministers  no  claims  upon  you  1 
Does  not  the  command  of  God  run  ;  Know 
them  that  labour  among  you,  and  are  over 
you  in  the  Lord,  and  admonish  you ;  and 
esteem  them  very  highly  in  love  for  their 
work's  sake  ? — Let  me  remark  three  things. 

First,  their  election.  Your  ministers  are 
chosen  by  you.  I  pity  congregations  that 
have  officers  forced  upon  them  regardless  of 
their  wishes,  their  taste,  their  profit.  There 
may  be  in  these  cases  adaptation  and  accept- 
ance ;  but  they  are  accidental ;  and  the  very 
imposition  will  tend  to  alienate  the  mind,  and 
keep  the  people  from  considering  the  minister 
as  their  own.  Your  preachers  and  pastors 
are  the  men  of  your  choice.  This  is  the 
privilege  of  your  churches ;  and  you  are  not 
backward  to  glory  in  it.  But  does  not  this 
very  choice  lay  you  under  peculiar  obliga- 
tions 1  When  you  voluntarily  assume  any 
relation,  do  you  not  bind  yourselves  to  the 
duties  pertaining  to  it ;  and  are  you  not  justly 
reproached  for  the  infraction  of  them  1 

Secondly.  Their  destiny.  These  minis- 
ters are  appointed  for  you.  Their  very  office 
is  founded  in  a  regard  to  your  welfare.  They 
are  helpers  of  your  joy.  They  are  to  lead 
you  in  the  way  everlasting.  They  are  de- 
signed to  feed  you  with  knowledge  and  un- 
derstanding. They  are  given  for  the  per- 
fecting of  the  saints,  and  for  the  edifying 
of  the  body  of  Christ ;  till  we  all  come  in 
the  un  ity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto 
the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ. 

To  you  they  wholly  and  exclusively  belong. 
For  you  they  give  up  their  time  and  their 
talents.  For  you  they  read,  and  study,  and 
pray,  and  preach.  They  are  not  their  own 
even  in  their  comforts,  and  crosses.  Whe- 
ther they  be  afflicted,  or  comforted,  it  is  for 
your  consolation  and  salvation.  Why  was 
Jeremiah  denied  all  the  pleasures  and  advan- 
tages of  social  life  1  Because  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  exercised  his  ministry 
required  the  sacrifice.  Hence  says  God, 
Thou  shalt  not  take  to  thee  a  wife  in  this 
place.  And  how  many  are  there  now,  whose 
situation,  and  work,  and  finances,  equally  de- 
mand the  exercise  of  the  same  self-denial  ? 
Ezekiel  was  blessed  with  a  companion  pecu- 
liarly dear  to  him.  She  laboured  under  no 
disease ;  and  might  have  walked  with  him 
for  many  years  as  an  heir  of  the  grace  of 
life ;  had  not  the  welfare  of  the  people  re- 
quired the  lovely  victim  to  be  offered  upon 
the  sacrifice  and  service  of  their  faith  :  Son 
of  man,  says  Heaven,  behold,  I  take  from  thee 
the  desire  of  thine  eyes,  with  a  stroke :  and 
behold  at  evening  my  wife  died.    And  he 


210 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


was  forbidden  even  to  assume  the  appearance 
of  a  mourner,  in  order  to  be  a  sign  to  the 
people !  Upon  this  principle,  all  their  enjoy- 
ments are  rendered  precarious  by  you.  And 
to  you,  as  the  cause,  are  to  be  traced  the  most 
painful  exercises  of  their  lives.  They  have 
been  tempted,  to  know  how  to  succour  them 
that  are  tempted.  They  have  walked  in 
darkness  and  have  had  no  light,  to  know  how 
to  speak  a  word  in  season  to  them  that  are 
weary.  They  have  struggled  with  pecu- 
niary difficulties,  to  be  able  to  sympathize 
with  the  poor  of  the  flock,  and  to  aid  them  to 
live  by  faith  on  the  providence  of  God. 

Ministers  have  talents  as  well  as  others; 
and  these  abilities,  employed  in  other  direc- 
tions, would  place  them  above  dependence ; 
enable  them  as  well  as  you  to  provide  for 
their  families ;  and  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of 
beneficence.  From  all  this  they  are  excluded. 
They  do  not  complain  of  this.  They  need 
not.  When  the  chief  Shepherd  shall  appear, 
they  shall  receive  a  crown  of  glory  that 
fadeth  not  away :  and  having  food  and  raiment, 
they  wish  therewith  to  be  content. — But  it  is 
for  you,  they  relinquish  or  refuse  every  tem- 
poral emolument,  every  worldly  prospect. 
And  have  they  no  claims  upon  you  1  That 
minister  who  considers  the  trifling  salary 
given  him,  or  the  few  gratuities  he  receives 
as  a  kind  of  benefaction  or  alms,  is  not  hum- 
ble, but  mean.  He  ought  to  feel  that  he 
stands  on  higher  ground  than  a  pauper,  or  a 
beneficiary.  He  is  surely  nothing  less  than 
their  servant  for  Jesus'  sake.  He  earns  what 
he  receives.  The  workman  is  worthy  of  his 
meat:  and  his  support  is  as  much  an  ordi- 
nance, as  baptism,  or  the  Lord's  supper :  even 
so  has  the  Lord  ordained,  that  they  that 
preach  the  gospel,  should  live  of  the  gospel. 
Let  him  that  is  taught  in  the  word  commu- 
nicate unto  him  that  teacheth  in  all  good 
things. 

Thirdly.'  Their  importance.  These  mi- 
nisters are  beneficial  to  you. — You  think  a 
lawyer  has  claims  upon  you  for  saving  your 
substance.  You  own  the  physician  has  claims 
upon  you  for  restoring  you  your  health.  Nor 
do  we  dispute  them.  But  what  is  the  body 
to  the  soull  Or  time  to  eternity] — Con- 
science, do  thine  office.  Speak.  "  There" 
says  one,  "  There  is  the  man  who  met  me 
in  my  mad  career,  and  was  the  means  of 
turning  my  feet  into  the  way  of  peace." 
"There," says  another,  "There  is  the  minis- 
ter, who,  when  I  was  perishing  for  thirst, 
angel  as  he  was,  opened  mine  eyes,  and 
showed  me  a  well."  "There,"  says  a  third,  "is 
the  teacher,  who,  after  others  had  withheld 
from  me  the  remedy,  and  I  waxed  worse  and 
worse,  told  me  of  the  balm  in  Gilead,  and 
the  physician  there,  by  whose  stripes  I  am 
healed." — Thou  owest  unto  me,  says  Paul  to 
Philemon,  even  thine  own  self.  And,  but 
for  those  who  are  saying  this  morning, 


Brethren,  pray  for  us,  some  of  you  would 
have  been  in  hell  long  ago ;  or  if  spared, 
would  have  been  only  tilling  up  the  measure 
of  your  iniquities.  To  them  under  God  you 
owe  the  health  that  intemperance  would  have 
ruined ;  and  the  respectability  that  vice  would 
have  destroyed.  Which  of  you  can  tell  into 
what  mistakes  and  embarrassments  you  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  they  thought  of  you 
when  you  were  asleep,  or  engrossed  in  your 
callings ;  and  made  their  discourses  to  bear 
on  your  danger  ] 

Did  you  never  observe  the  words  of  Isaiah 
—  Though  the  Lord  give  you  the  bread  of 
adversity,  and  the  water  of  affliction,  yet 
shall  not  thy  teachers  be  removed  into  a  cor- 
ner any  more,  but  thine  eyes  shall  see  thy 
teachers :  and  thine  ears  shall  hear  a  word 
behind  thee,  saying,  This  is  the  way,  wa'k 
ye  in  it,  when  ye  turn  to  the  right  hand,  and 
when  ye  turn  to  the  left.  And  have  you  not 
found  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  a  privilege 
sufficient  to  counterbalance  all  that  is  defect- 
ive or  painful,  in  your  lot  \  Have  you  not 
returned  from  the  house  of  God  freed  from 
your  burdens  ;  and  reconciled,  not  only  to  the 
duties,  but  to  the  trials  of  life? 

And  on  them  you  depend  for  future  advan- 
tages. To  them  you  look  for  private  admo- 
nition and  encouragement.  To  them  you 
look  for  public  counsel  and  comfort.  To  them 
you  look  to  spread  your  personal  and  domestic 
afflictions  before  God  in  the  sanctuary. — It  is 
not  long  before  your  minister  will  come  to 
you  with  the  message — Set  thine  house  in 
order,  for  thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live.  He 
will  stand  by  the  side  of  the  bed  of  languish- 
ing and  anxiety,  and  say,  in  the  name  of  his 
God  and  your  God,  Leave  thy  fatherless 
children,  I  will  preserve  them  alive  and  let 
thy  widow  trust  in  me.  With  your  weeping 
connexions  he  will  follow  your  remains  to 
the  grave,  and  deposit  them  in  the  house  ap- 
pointed for  all  living.  He  will  return  to  the 
house  of  mourning,  and  as  it  is  the  end  of  all 
men,  will  teach  the  living  to  lay  it  to  heart 
In  a  service  sacred  to  your  memory,  he  will 
hold  up  your  character  for  the  edification  of 
others,  and  the  glory  of  God.  He  will  teach 
your  offspring  to  follow  your  example,  and  by 
a  thousand  pious  wishes  and  endeavours  be- 
come the  guide  of  their  youth. 

We  have  proved  that  your  ministers  have 
claims  upon  you.    Let  us  inquire 

Secondly.  In  what  way  your  praying  for 
them  will  discharge  your  obligation. 

This  mode  will  be  the  most  satisfactory  to 
their  own  minds.  What  they  principally 
desire  is  to  live  high  in  your  prayerful  re- 
membrance. They  would  rather  learn  that 
you  entered  your  closets  before  you  came, 
than  commended  their  sermons  after  you  re- 
turned. If  they  are  spiritual  men,  this  will 
please  them  much  better  than  your  silver 
and  gold,  your  applause  and  caresses. — 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


211 


Nothing  so  relieves,  nothing  so  encourages, 
nothing  so  animates  them  in  their  perform- 
ances.— Ministers,  conscious  that  they  are 
labouring  among  a  prayerful  people,  must 
have  some  feeling  and  life;  must  preach 
with  some  pleasure  and  hope. 

This  mode  will  best  promote  your  attach- 
ment to  them.  If  love  begets  prayer,  I  am 
sure  prayer  begets  love.  Whatever  engages 
much  of  our  time  and  attention,  will  soon 
become  interesting.  If  we  cultivate  a  tree 
or  a  flower,  we  soon  feel  a  propriety  in  it. 
If  we  take  an  orphan,  and  feed,  clothe,  and 
educate  him,  he  is  sure  to  be  endeared.  All 
the  affections  are  increased  by  exercise: 
while  negligence  breeds  indifference  and  in- 
sensibility.— The  easiest  way  to  love  an 
enemy  is  to  begin  to  pray  for  him.  Meeting 
him  at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  under  the  eye 
of  Him  who  is  kind  to  the  unthankful  and 
the  unworthy,  we  melt,  we  pity,  we  pardon, 
we  embrace.  If  you  pray  for  your  minis- 
ters, you  will  think  much  of  them,  and  at  the 
best  time.  They  will  soon  possess  and  retain 
an  importance,  and,  which  is  still  better,  a 
sacredness  in  your  minds,  that  will  keep  your 
affection  from  degenerating  into  servile,  or 
rising  into  idolatrous.  You  will  never  see 
them  without  emotion ;  nor  hear  them  with- 
out reverence. 

This  mode  will  most  strongly  enforce  the 
performance  of  every  other  duty.  Prayer, 
when  viewed  aright,  always  supposes  corres- 
ponding endeavours.  It  is  mere  hypocrisy 
without  a  consistent  line  of  conduct.  The 
man  that  goes  to  church  on  the  morning  of 
the  Sabbath,  and  when  the  command  for  sanc- 
tifying God's  holy  day  is  read,  exclaims, 
"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us,  and  incline  our 
hearts  to  keep  this  law;"  when  he  knows 
that  he  left  his  shop  door  half  open,  and  some 
of  his  domestics  selling — insults  God  to  his 
very  face.  And  is  he  less  mocked,  by  that 
father  who  prays  for  the  conversion  of  his 
children,  and  never  trains  them  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  ?  Is  he 
less  trifled  with,  by  that  professor  of  religion 
who  prays,  not  to  be  led  into  temptation,  and 
then  treads  the  avenues  of  dissipation  1  Is 
he  less  offended,  by  that  minister  who  com- 
mits himself  to  God  for  assistance,  and  never 
gives  himself  to  reading  and  meditation ! 

Upon  the  same  principle  it  may  be  fairly 
inferred,  that  there  are  many  people  who 
never  pray  for  their  minister.  For  can  they 
pray  for  him,  and  behave  improperly  towards 
him  1  Can  they  pray  for  his  support,  and, 
according  to  their  ability,  refuse  to  aid  him  ? 
Can  they  pray  for  his  reputation,  and  speak 
of  him  lightly  before  their  children  and  ser- 
vants ?  Can  they  pray  for  his  comfort,  and 
grieve  him  by  their  walk,  their  absence,  or 
their  inattention?  Can  they  pray  for  his 
preaching,  and  come  to  sleep,  to  criticise,  or 
to  cavil  ? — Out  of  their  own  mouths  they  are 


condemned.  If  they  really  and  earnestly 
prayed  for  their  minister,  every  other  duty 
they  owed  him,  would  follow  certainly,  and 
of  course. 

This  mode  will  be  most  productive  of 
their  advantage.  In  this  way  you  not  only 
may,  but  must  be  useful  to  your  ministers. 
Does  not  God  hear  prayer  1  Has  not  he  ap- 
pointed it  1  Here  is  the  promise :  Ask,  and  it 
shall  be  given  you :  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  : 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  Here 
is  the  experience  of  his  people  in  every  age 
to  exemplify  and  confirm  the  promise.  He 
never  said  to  the  seed  of  Jacob,  seek  ye  me 
in  vain.  The  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a 
righteous  man  availeth  much.  Neither  is 
the  efficacy  of  it  hindered  by  infirmity;  Elias 
was  a  man  subject  to  like  passions  as  we 
are,  and  he  prayed  earnestly  that  it  might 
not  rain ;  and  it  rained  not  on  the  earth  by 
the  space  of  three  years  and  six  months. 
And  he  prayed  again,  and  the  heaven  gave 
rain,  and  the  earth  brought  forth  her 
fruit. 

Finally.  This  mode  is  the  most  accessible. 
This  way  in  which  you  can  serve  your  mi- 
nisters, does  not  depend  upon  talents,  office, 
condition.  A  man,  poor  in  this  world,  may 
be  rich  in  faith:  and  he  that  is  overlooked 
even  by  his  neighbours  on  earth,  may  have 
great  interest  at  the  court  of  heaven.  Out- 
ward distinctions  are  here  nothing.  He 
who  possesses  most  of  the  spirit  of  prayer, 
has  most  power  with  God,  whether  he  dwells 
in  a  palace,  or  sighs  in  a  workhouse. 

Some  of  you,  perhaps,  have  no  other  way 
of  showing  to  your  minister  the  regard  you 
wish  to  pay.    You  have  no  mansion,  and 
cannot  invite  him  to  a  well-spread  table. 
You  have  no  substance,  and  cannot  furnish 
his  shelf  with  the  useful  volume,  or  enable 
him  as  he  enters  the  hovel  of  indigence  and 
pain,  to  accompany  his /devotion  with  relief. 
Compassionate  hearts !    Be  not  discouraged. 
Where  there  is  first  a  willing  mind,  it  is 
accepted  according  to  that  a  man  hath,  and 
not  according  to  that  he  hath  not.    But  you 
may  do  him  good  ;  great  good ;  unspeakable 
good.    You  have  a  resource,  a  mighty  re- 
source in  prayer;  and  how  should  you  re- 
joice in  it,  and  employ  it.    You  have  a  friend 
ever  near  you  who  is  almighty ;  fie  will  re- 
gard the  prayer  of  the  destitute,  and  will 
not  despj.se  their  prayer.    He  can  do  for  this 
young  minister  exceeding  abundantly,  above 
all  you  ask  or  think.    He  can  give  him  the 
zeal  of  a  Whitefield  ;  the  knowledge  of  an 
Owen  ;  the  seriousness  of  a  Baxter  ;  the 
spirituality  of  a  Leighton;  the  simplicity 
and  unction  of  a  Henry  ;  the  diligence  and 
amiableness  of  a  Doddridge.    Greatly  ac- 
ceptable, and  every  way  promising  as  he  now 
is,  no  bounds  can  be  fixed  to  his  improvement 
or  usefulness,  you  also  striving  together  in 
prayer  to  God  for  him. 


212 


THE  MINISTER'S  REQUEST. 


There  is  always  a  delicacy  in  describing 
duties  of  which  we  are  not  only  the  recom- 
menders,  but  the  objects.  I  felt  it  in  the 
prospect  of  this  exercise.  Indeed  it  is  al- 
most impossible  to  engage  in  a  service  like 
this,  without  seeming  to  exalt  ourselves,  or 
to  magnify  our  office. 

But  if  any  statement  of  the  subject  can 
secure  us  from  the  imputation,  it  is  the  view 
of  it  we  have  been  taking.  You  will  bear 
us  witness  that  we  have  not  been  calling  for 
an  increase  of  salary,  exacting  double  honour, 
or  assuming  pompous  names  and  titles.  We 
have  not  appeared  before  you  as  dignitaries, 
but  as  petitioners.  Brethren,  pray  for  us. 
This  is  all  we  desire.  Think  of  our  wants. 
Remember  our  work,  our  trials,  our  danger,  our 
dependence,  and  our  responsibility.  Candidly 
weigh  the  claims  which  we  have  upon  you. 
Remember  we  are  the  men  of  your  choice ; 
we  are  devoted  to  your  service ;  and  you  de- 
rive important  and  numberless  benefits  from 
our  labours.  Discharge  your  obligation  by 
prayer.  Remember  it  is  a  method  the  most 
satisfactory  to  our  minds;  it  will  best  pro- 
mote your  attachment  to  us;  it  will  most 
strongly  influence  the  performance  of  every 
other  duty ;  it  will  be  the  most  productive  of 
advantage ;  it  is  within  the  reach  of  all. 

In  this  way  prove  and  cherish  your  regard. 
In  your  social  exercises;  around  your  family 
altars;  and  when  alone  bear  us  upon  your 
minds.  This  is  all  the  return  we  implore 
for  our  services  and  sacrifices.  According 
to  our  power  we  are  mindful  of  you.  The 
study,  as  well  as  the  pulpit  is  witness,  and 
God  is  witness  that  we  remember  you  col- 
lectively, and  spread  your  cases  individually 
before  the  throne  of  grace  and  mercy.  And 
we  have  you  in  our  hearts,  both  to  live  and 
to  die  with  you.  O !  ye  who  constitute  the 
people  of  our  charge,  our  mouth  is  open  unto 
you,  our  heart  is  enlarged ;  now,  for  a  re- 
compense in  the  same,  be  ye  also  enlarged. 
BRETHREN,  PRAY  FOR  US. 

1  have  been  called  peculiarly  to  address 
the  members  of  this  church.  Here  are  some 
who  are  members  of  no  church.  I  have 
been  addressing  those  whose  duty  it  is  to 
pray  for  their  ministers. — Here  are  some — 
perhaps  many !  who  never  pray  for  them- 
selves. I  may  seem  to  go  out  of  my  way  to 
bespeak  the  attention  of  such;  but  who 


would  not  go  out  of  his  way  to  attempt  to 
save  a  soul  from  death,  and  to  hide  a  multi- 
tude of  sinsl 

When  my  dear  and  honoured  friend  and 
tutor,  the  Rev.  Cornelius  Winter,  was  or- 
dained, two  persons,  even  profligate  before, 
were  converted,  who  lived  holy,  and  died 
happy  in  the  Lord.  It  seemed  a  divine  en- 
couragement; and  his  gentle  spirit  viewed 
it  as  a  token  for  good.  What  a  satisfaction 
would  it  be  to  the  kindred  mind  of  this  young 
divine,  on  whose  head  we  have  been  im- 
ploring so  many  blessings !  what  a  time  to 
be  remembered  would  this  morning  prove,  if 
before  the  service  ends,  joy  in  heaven  begins, 
over  one  sinner  that  repenteth ! 

 So  then  it  is  a  truth,  that  some  of 

you,  though  you  are  found  in  his  presence 
this  morning,  live  without  God  in  the  world ! 
.You  go  forth  and  return;  and  God  is  not  in 
all  your  thoughts !  You  lie  down  and  rise 
up;  but  restrain  prayer  before  God!  This 
duty  you  neglect!  This  privilege  you  des- 
pise !  The  Redeemer  suffered,  the  just  for 
the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  unto  God; 
but  you  are  resolved  to  die  eternally  rather 
than  approach  him  by  that  new  and  living 
way  which  he  has  consecrated  for  you !  He 
cries — Turn  you  at  my  reproof:  behold  I 
will  pour  out  my  spirit  unto  you;  I  will 
make  known  my  words  unto  you.  But  you 
set  at  nought  all  his  counsel !  You  despise 
all  his  reproof! — You  may  obtain  temporal 
good  things  without  prayer,  but  they  will 
prove  your  curse :  and  while  you  congratu- 
late yourselves  on  the  fine  pasture  into 
which  you  are  turned,  you  are  fattening  for 
the  day  of  slaughter.  The  prosperity  of 
fools  shall  destroy  them.  And  as  to  spiritual 
blessings — those  blessings  which  pertain  to 
the  soul  and  eternity;  those  blessings,  one 
of  which — if  you  were  truly  wise,  you  would 
desire  above  the  whole  world ;  these — such 
is  the  inviolable  order  of  Heaven — these  can 
never  be  obtained  without  prayer. — For  all 
these  things  I  will  be  inquired  of  by  the 
house  of  Israel  to  do  it  for  them. 

Do  not  therefore  imagine  that  your  end  will 
differ  from  your  course.  If  you  live  without 
prayer,  you  will  die  without  hope ;  and  your 
history,  through  endless  ages,  like  Ezekiel's 
roll,  will  be  read  lamentation,  and  mourn- 
ing, and  wo. 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH: 

A  SERMON, 

OCCASIONED  BY 

THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  ELIZA  BERRY, 

WIFE  OF  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  BERRY; 

AND  PREACHED  IN  THE  COMMON-CLOSE  MEETING,  WARMINSTER,  MARCH  I,  1812. 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


Yea,  though  I -walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I  -will  fear  no  evil :  for 
thou  art  -with  me  ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they 
comfort  me. — Psalm  xxiii.  4. 

Comparison  is  a  method  of  instruction  the 
most  easy,  pleasing,  and  impressive.  Hence 
it  has  been  adopted  in  all  ages,  and  in  all 
countries.  The  sacred  viriters  peculiarly 
abound  with  it.  They  always  express  spirit- 
ual subjects  by  natural  ideas ;  and  hold  forth 
things  unseen  and  eternal,  by  means  of  those 
which  are  seen  and  temporal. 

To  aid  our  acquaintance  and  communion 
with  God,  he  has  condescended  to  reveal 
himself  under  every  relation  and  office  that 
can  awaken  our  attention,  and  encourage  our 
hope. — Thus  he  calls  himself  the  shepherd 
of  his  people ;  and  the  psalm  before  us,  is  a 
beautiful  commentary  on  the  character. — 
Happy  the  man  who  can  say,  The  Lord  is 
my  shepherd :  I  shall  not  want.  He  maketh 
me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures :  he  leadeth 
me  beside  the  still  waters — Here  David  views 
himself  as  in  a  state  of  prosperity,  peace,  and 
pleasure,  enjoying  every  advantage  the  most 
favoured  situation  could  afford. — But  to  re- 
joice in  such  indulgences  had  nothing  re- 
markable in  it.  He  was  a  man  of  too  much 
reflection,  to  conclude  that  a  scene  so  grati- 
fying would  continue  always,  or  continue 
long.  He  knew  the  instability  of  every  thing 
human.  He  knew  that  he  was  liable  to  wan- 
der, and  would  often  need  restoring  grace — 
He  restoreth  my  soul :  he  leadeth  me  in  the 
paths  of  righteousness  for  his  name's  sake. 
He  knew  that  he  was  mortal,  and  looked  for- 
ward to  a  dying  hour — at  once  foreboding  the 


worst,  and  exulting  in  it  Yea,  though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  I  will  fear  no  evil:  for  thou  art 
with  me;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort 
me. 

It  will  be  necessary  to  consider  three 
things : — 

I.  A  condition  supposed —  Yea,  though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death. 

II.  A  confidence  of  mind  in  the  contem- 
plation of  it — I  will  fear  no  evil. 

III.  The  foundation  of  the  fortitude— -for 
thou  art  with  me;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they 
comfort  me. 

I  should  always  have  deemed  these  words 
worthy  of  your  attention,  but  they  have  this 
morning  been  chosen  for  me ;  and  will  in  fu- 
ture be  additionally  endeared  to  many  in  this 
assembly,  as  containing  the  experience  and 
the  desire  of  our  dear  and  invaluable  friend, 
Mrs.  Berry.  But  before  I  bring  her  charac-. 
ter  more  prominently  forward ;  and  in  order 
to  bring  it  forward  to  advantage,  I  shall  at- 
tempt to  illustrate,  as  briefly  as  I  am  able, 
the  doctrine  of  our  text,  according  to  the  ar- 
rangement proposed. 

First,  then,  David  speaks  of  a  passage, 
deep  as  a  valley,  dark  as  a  shadow,  and  dread- 
ful as  death.  It  means — a  state  of  affliction 
— of  danger — of  terror.  It  means  the  ap- 
proach, and  the  state  of  dissolution — it  means 
the  passage  that,  unites  this  world  and  the 
world  to  come :  yea,  though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  This  is 
the  condition  he  supposes :  and  the  supposi- 
tion is — 

213 


214 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


First,  natural.  The  reason  is,  because  the 
event  itself  is  unavoidable.  We  can  think  of 
many  journies  which  we  may  never  accom- 
plish: but  we  must  all  travel  this  dreary 
road :  it  is  the  way  of  all  the.earth.  By  the 
reduction  of  the  term  of  human  life,  a  centu- 
ry now  sweeps  the  globe,  and  dispossesses  of 
its  inhabitants  every  cottage,  every  mansion, 
every  palace,  every  temple.  By  the  univer- 
sality of  the  appointment,  the  world  is  deliver- 
ed from  those  who  only  seem  made  to  use  fans 
and  looking-glasses,  from  the  foolish  and  the 
vain,  from  the  wicked  and  the  vile,  from  the 
troublesome  and  the  mischievous,  from  the 
plagues  and  curses  of  the  community — but 
then  it  also  takes  away  the  wise  as  well  as 
the  ignorant,  the  good  as  well  as  the  evil,  the 
useful  as  well  as  the  injurious;  private  and 
public  benefactors;  those  who  have  turned 
many  to  righteousness,  those  who  have  saved 
states,  those  who  have  adorned  families — and 
often,  according  to  the  estimations  of  reason, 
those  are  removed  first,  who  can  least  be 
spared.    The  supposition  is, 

Secondly,  useful.  Death  is  not  only  an  in- 
evitable, but  a  momentous  event;  and  it  is 
well  to  realize  it.  The  thought  of  it  is  indeed 
irksome  to  the  man  of  the  world,  who  has  his 
portion  in  this  life,  and  possesses  no  hope  of 
a  better;  he  therefore  always  endeavours  to 
keep  it,  or  to  banish  it  from  his  mind.  And, 
if  your  putting  the  evil  day  far  off,  was  put- 
ting it  away,  the  practice  might  be  justified. 
But  the  destroyer  of  the  Gentiles  is  not  even 
to  be  diverted ;  and  during  every  moment  of 
your  forgetfulness,  it  is  approaching  you. 
And  what  if  coming  suddenly  it  finds  you 
sleeping  1  A  Christian  should  never  be  sur- 
prised in  death :  neither  should  he  leave 
things  unarranged  and  unexecuted,  which 
will  throw  him  into  tumult,  and  induce  him, 
when  the  summons  arrives,  to  pray  for  pro- 
tection; O  spare  me,  that  I  may  recover 
strength,  before  I  go  hence,  and  be  no  more. 
Familiar  "  thoughts,"  says  Young,  "  will 
slope  the  way  to  death :"  so  that  when  you 
come  to  the  end  of  your  travels,  you  will  find, 
not  a  precipice,  but  a  gradual  descent. — 
There  are  some  cases  in  which  the  anticipa- 
tion of  death  will  be  found  peculiarly  proper. 
For  instance.  It  is  peculiarly  proper  when  a 
fondness  for  the  world  creeps  upon  us.  David 
often  refers  to  the  subject  of  mortality  in  the 
Psalms,  and  applies  it  commonly  as  a  cure 
for  the  pride  of  life,  for  man  is  prone  to  walk 
in  a  vain  show.  But,  says  he,  how  humbling 
is  the  reflection?  Do  they  trust  in  their 
wealth,  and  boast  themselves  of  the  multitude 
of  their  riches  ?  None  of  them  can  by  any 
means  redeem  his  brother ;  nor  give  to  God 
a  ransom  for  him  that  he  should  still  live  for 
ever  and  not  see  corruption.  Is  he  in  ho- 
nour ?  He  abideth  not ;  he  is  like  the  beasts 
that  perish.  Is  he  a  prince?  His  breath 
goeth  forth;  he  returneth  to  his  dust — in 


that  very  day  his  tho  ughts  perish.  It  is  pe- 
culiarly proper,  when  sickness  invades  our 
frame.  For  what  is  every  bodily  indisposi- 
tion and  infirmity,  but,  according  to  its  de- 
gree, a  gentler  or  a  louder  knock  at  the 
heart,  saying,  Behold  the  judge  standeth  be- 
fore the  door.  In  this  state  Job  was,  and 
reckoning  on  the  tendency  of  his  disease  said, 
/  know  thou  wilt  bring  me  to  death,  and  to 
the  house  appointed  for  all  living.  It  is  pe- 
culiarly proper,  when  the  almond-tree  flou- 
rishes, and  the  grasshopper  is  a  burden,  and 
desire  fails,  and  man  is  going  to  his  long 
home,  pressed  down  by  the  weight  of  years, 
and  ordered  to  contemplate  the  grave,  whither 
he  is  hastening. — And  O!  how  peculiarly 
proper  is  it  when  we  see  our  neighbours, 
friends,  and  relatives  withdrawing,  and  we 
follow  them  with  weeping  eyes.  When  we 
are  committing  to  the  dust  the  remains  of 
our  dear  connexions;  should  not  a  solemn 
awe  come  over  our  minds  1  Does  not  their 
mortality  remind  us  of  our  own'!  Can  we 
help  retiring,  and  saying,  "  Ah !  soon — in  a 
scene  like  this,  I  shall  be  the  principal  figure. 
All  these  sad  ceremonies  will  be  performed 
for  me.  And  while  my  body  returns  to  the 
dust  as  it  was,  my  spirit  will  return  to  God 

who  gave  it."  

Thirdly,  the  supposition  is  modified.  Let 
us  observe  what  David  says  of  the  pros- 
pect. 

— He  calls  it  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death.  Can  the  shadow  of  a  sword  wound  ! 
Can  the  shadow  of  a  lion  kill  ? — Jesus  endured 
the  reality ;  for  he  bore  our  sins  in  his  body 
on  the  tree.  It  is  not  therefore  without  rea- 
son that  the  apostle  so  frequently  varies  his 
expression,  when  speaking  of  Christ,  and  of 
Christians.  He  died  for  us,  that  whether  we 
wake  or  sleep,  we  should  live  together  with 
him.  If  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose 
again,  even  so  them  also  that  sleep  in  Jesus, 
shall  God  bring  with  him.  Hence  our  Sa- 
viour said  to  his  hearers,  If  a  man  keep  my 
saying,  he  shall  never  see  death. — What] 
Do  not  his  disciples  die  as  well  as  others  1 
No.  There  is  one  event  to  the  righteous  and 
to  the  wicked ;  but  it  comes  so  changed,  so 
softened,  so  blessed  to  the  believer,  that  it 
does  not  deserve  the  name — call  it  a  removal, 
a  departure,  a  sleep — call  it  any  thing  but 
what  would  so  misrepresent  it— death.  He 
hath  abolished  death,  and  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light  by  the  gospel. 

David  speaks  of  walking  through  this  val- 
ley. Some  are  forced  through.  The  wick- 
ed, says  Solomon,  are  driven  away  in  their 
wickedness.  He  shall  be  driven,  says  Bildad, 
from  light  into  darkness,  and  chased  out  of 
the  world.  Some  are  carried.  These  are 
the  deluded,  who  presume  that  all  is  well, 
while  all  is  ruin :  who  have  no  bands  in  their 
death,  and  whose  strength  is  firm:  who  die 
like  lambs,  and  become  the  prey  of  the  devil 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


215 


and  his  angels.  But  the  believer  walks 
through.  He  is  not  compelled ;  and  he  is  not 
merely  passive.  He  has  something  to  do 
there :  he  has  graces  to  exercise,  and  duties 
to  perform  there :  and  having  honoured  God 
by  the  life  he  has  led,  he  is  also  concerned  to 
glorify  him  by  the  death  he  shall  die. 

David  speaks  of  walking  through  the  val- 
ley of  the  shadow  of  death.  He  does  not 
wander  there  ;  does  not  remain  there ;  is  not 
lost  there.  We  soon  lose  sight  of  the  pas- 
sengers. We  cannot  see  their  egress  on  the 
other  side — but  we  know  that  when  absent 
from  the  body  they  are  present  with  the  Lord. 
The  cessation  of  their  breath  is  the  signal  of 
their  escape :  and  as  soon  as  we  discern  it, 
we  exclaim — "  They  are  happily  over.  They 
have  reached  the  borders  of  Immanuel'sland. 
They  are  singing  as  they  look  backward  and 
forward.  We  went  through  fire  and  through 
water,  but  thou  hast  brought  us  out  into  a 
wealthy  place." 

Secondly.  Here  is  a  confidence  of  mind 
in  the  contemplation  of  this  condition :  yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  /  will  fear  no  evil. 

This  confidence  is  not  easily  attained.  We 
have  asked  the  question ;  Can  the  shadow  of 
a  sword  wound  1  Can  the  shadow  of  a  lion 
kill  I — And  we  readily  answer ;  no.  But  the 
shadow  implies  the  substance.  The  sword, 
the  lion  whose  shadow  we  stand  in,  cannot 
be  far  off.  This  makes  it  trying.  There  is 
a  reality  somewhere  :  and  some  are  exposed 
to  it.  And  can  we  help  asking  with  a  shud- 
der— Who  are  they  1  The  very  language  of 
David  supposes  that'  there  is  much  naturally 
in  death  to  excite  fear.  And  the  wonder  is, 
not  that  any  should  be  afraid,  but  that  any 
should  be  without  fear.  Even  many  of  those 
who  effect  to  be  free  from  it,  are  only  impo- 
sing upon  others,  and  deceiving  themselves. 
It  is  called  the  king  of  terrors.  It  is  an  un- 
tried state.  No  one  has  returned  to  tell  us 
what  it  is.  We  must  go  through  it  alone. 
If  others  at  the  same  time  are  passing  it — 
and  how  many  are  passing  every  moment ! — 
we  cannot  see  each  other. — Death  breaks  off 
all  the  busy  and  fond  purposes  of  the  heart. 
It  deprives  us  of  all  our  temporal  possessions 
and  enjoyments.  It  breaks  up  the  tender 
connexions  of  life.  It  separates  between 
those  intimate  companions,  the  body  and  the 
soul. — The  forerunners  of  death  are  often 
dreadful,  the  sinking  eye,  the  trembling 
limbs,  the  convulsions  of  pain,  the  mortal 
dew — 

The  pains,  the  groans,  the  dying  strife 
Fright  our  approaching  souls  away ; 

Still  we  shrink  hack  again  to  life, 
Fond  of  our  prison  and  our  clay. 

When  dead,  we  become  so  offensive  that  our 
dearest  friends  bury  us  out  of  their  sight: 
and  we  say  to  corruption,  thou  art  my  father; 
and  to  the  worm  thou  art  my  mother  and  my 


sister.  When  we  reflect  on  all  this ;  what 
wonder,  if  we  groan  being  burdened,  not  for 
that  we  would  be  unclothed,  but  clothed  up- 
on, that  mortality  might  be  swallowed  up  of 
life.  In  addition  to  all  this  we  must  observe, 
that  death  leaves  one  relation  untouched,  the 
relation  of  a  creature  to  his  Creator,  of  a  sub- 
ject  to  his  sovereign,  of  a  criminal  to  his 
judge  :  it  translates  us  from  a  temporal  to  an 
eternal  mode  of  being,  from  a  state  of  action 
to  a  state  of  retribution — for  after  death  the 
judgment !  And  who  is  not  a  sinner  ]  Who 
has  nothing  to  fear  ? 

We  would  remark  also,  that  this  confidence 
is  possessed  by  the  subjects  of  divine  grace  in 
very  unequal  degrees.  There  is  often  a 
great  difference  in  the  constitutional  firmness 
of  men.  One  person  shall  tremble  at  the  shak- 
ing of  a  leaf,  while  another  does  not  shrink 
back  at  the  prospect  of  any  danger.  Some 
have  clear  views  of  the  Christian's  safety  and 
privileges;  the  apprehensions  of  others,  even 
with  regard  to  the  leading  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel, are  defective  and  obscure.  Some  have 
hardly  faith  enough  to  entitle  them  to  the 
name  of  believers  ;  others  are  strong  in  faith ; 
rich  in  faith.  Hence  some  are  all  their  life 
time  subject  to  bondage  through  fear  of 
death,  while  others  go  on  their  way  rejoicing 
in  the  Lord  always;  and  saying,  The  Lord 
is  my  light  and  my  salvation,  whom  shall  I 
fear  ?  The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life, 
of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid  .' — And  thus  when 
the  last  hour  arrives;  some  meet  death  with 
rapturous  pleasure;  some  with  tranquillity; 
while  in  some,  doubts  and  hopes  alternately 
prevail. 

Yet  we  would  further  observe,  that  this 
confidence  generally  increases  as  the  peo- 
ple of  God  approach  death.  Hence  Isaiah 
compares  their  peace  to  a  river:  for  as  a 
river  rolls  deeper  and  broader  as  it  hastens  to 
the  sea,  so  their  peace  commonly  becomes 
more  solid  and  more  extensive  as  they  draw 
near  eternity.  In  this  view,  the  change 
which  Doctor  Goodwin  experienced  was  re- 
markable. "Is  this  dying]"  exclaimed  he,  a 
little  before  he  expired :  "  Is  this  what  for  so 
many  years  I  have  been  dreading  ?  O,  how 
precious  does  the  righteousness  of  the  Saviour 
now  appear ! — He  cannot  love  me  better  than 
he  does;  and,  I  think,  I  cannot  love  him  bet- 
ter than  I  do."  This  is  not  a  solitary  instance. 
How  many  have  we  seen  ourselves  who 
wept  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion,  but  re- 
joiced in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ; 
whose  harps,  long  before  hung  upon  the  wil- 
lows, were  taken  down,  and  delightfully  used 
in  singing  the  Lord's  song,  in  the  most 
strange  part  of  all  the  strange  land. — We 
cannot  always  account  for  things  as  effects, 
which  yet  we  are  compelled  by  observation 
and  testimony  to  admit  as  facts.  But  the  case 
before  us  sufficiently  explains  itself.  The 
love  of  life,  having  from  the  will  of  God  no 


216 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


longer  now  any  purposes  to  answer,  is  suf- 
fered to  die  away.  By  drawing  near  the  bet- 
ter country,  we  feel  something  of  its  influ- 
ence, as  the  perfumes  of  Arabia,  the  happy, 
are  blown  into  the  neighbouring  provinces. 
Above  all,  there  is  now  more  of  the  sim- 
plicity of  faith.  During  life,  some  degree  of 
legality  attaches  to  all  our  performances. 
Doing  continually  intermingles  with  believ- 
ing :  and  often  insensibly  to  ourselves  we  are 
anxious  to  make  ourselves  better,  to  entitle 
us  to  the  Divine  favour,  or  to  find  something 
in  ourselves  wherein  to  hope,  if  not,  whereof 
to  glory  before  God.  But  all  this  is  now  over. 
What  can  he  noic  do  1  What  qualifications 
can  he  now  acquire  ? — What  attainments  can 
he  propose  !  "  Let  him  look  back  upon 
a  well-spent  life."  This  is  impossible.  Every 
review  he  takes  of  himself,  is  humbling.  The 
very  sins  of  his  holy  things  would  drive  him 
to  despair.  One  resource  remains,  one,  only 
— one,  which  is  always  equal  to  our  relief — 
one,  whose  consolation  is  only  hindered  from 
flowing  into  us  by  the  want  of  simplicity  of 
mind — it  is  looking  by  faith  to  the  Lamb  of 
God  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  ; 
it  is  to  commit  implicitly  a  lost  soul  to  him — 

A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm, 

On  thy  kind  arm  1  fall ; 
Be  thou  my  strength  and  righteousness, 

My  Jesus,  and  my  all. 

Finally.  This  confidence  is  enlightened 
and  ivise.  David's  fearlessness  was  not 
apathy.  He  was  a  man  of  fine  feelings. 
His  imagination  was  lively.  He  was  a 
lover  of  poetry  and  music.  No  man  ever 
more  bewailed  his  unworthiness  and  vile- 
ness ;  or  was  at  times  nearer  despair. — 
Neither  did  ignorance  raise  him  above  the 
fear  of  death.  His  courage  was  not  the 
boldness  of  a  man  who  shuts  his  eyes,  and 
can  see  no  danger.  The  peace  of  many  peo- 
ple will  not  bear  reflection.  It  would  die 
before  thought,  and  therefore  its  aim  is  to 
elude  it.  But  whatever  some  may  imagine, 
the  religion  of  a  Christian  is  not  a  mass  of 
blind  feelings.  Ignorance  is  not  the  mother 
of  his  devotion.  His  privileges  are  not  pic- 
tures of  fancy.  His  joy  is  not  the  ferment 
of  enthusiasm.  His  confidence  results  from 
just  views  of  things:  therefore  it  is  said,  they 
that  know  thy  name  will  put  their  trust  in 
thee.  He  is  able  to  give  to  every  man  that 
asketh  him,  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in 
him.  Yes,  he  has  reason  to  say — though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  I  will  fear  no  evil — for  there  is  no 
evil  in  it. — Yea,  it  has  not  only  lost  the 
power  of  injuring  him,  but  obtained  the 
power  of  doing  him  good.  It  is  not  only  a 
conquered  foe,  but  a  most  munificent  bene- 
factor. Hence  Doctor  George  often  said  he 
had  two  special  friends  in  the  world,  Christ 
and  Death :  "  Christ,"  said  he,  "  is  my  first 
friend,  but  Deatli  is  my  second."    And  the 


apostle  tells  us,  that  to  die  is  gain.  Now 
the  heir  of  immortality  comes  of  age,  and 
gains  his  inheritance.  Now  the  tempest- 
beaten  mariner  gains  the  desired  haven. 
Now  the  often  wounded  soldier  gains  his 
victory  and  triumph.  Now  the  Christian, 
after  all  his  struggles  with  darkness,  sin,  and 
sorrow,  gains  admission  to  a  state  of  perfect 
light,  and  purity,  and  joy.  His  gain  is  ever- 
lasting and  infinite ;  and  therefore  inexpres- 
sible and  inconceivable :  as  it  is  written,  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  have  enter- 
ed into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which 
God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him. 
But  we  go  one  step  further ;  and  say,  that 
death  is  riot  only  to  the  believer  productive 
of  advantage  in  the  issue,  but  also  admits  of 
satisfaction  and  pleasure  in  the  passage.  And 
this  has  brought  us  to  the 

Third  division  of  our  subject,  and  which 
leads  us  to  observe  the  foundation  of  this 
fortitude:  For  thou  art  with  me;  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me.  Let  us  con- 
sider the  reasons  themselves,  and  the  cer- 
tainty of  David's  mind  respecting  them. 

The  reasons  are  two. 

First.  The  Divine  presence :  For  thou  art 
with  me.  He  is  every  where  by  the  immen- 
sity of  his  nature  ;  but  he  is  peculiarly  with 
his  people :  he  is  nigh  unto  all  them  that  call 
upon  him,  to  all  that  call  upon  him  in  truth  : 
he  will  fulfil  the  desire  of  them  that  fear 
him,  he  also  will  hear  their  cry  and  will  save 
them. — He  is  with  his  people  in  every  state, 
he  never  leaves  them,  nor  forsakes  them; 
but  he  is  peculiarly  with  them  in  trouble — 
and  he  is  most  peculiarly  with  them  in  this 
trouble.  In  none  do  they  need  it  so  much ; 
for  if  he  is  not  with  us  there,  we  must  be 
alone ;  every  other  connexion  then  leaves  us : 
if  he  is  not  with  us  there,  we  must  sink ;  for 
every  earthly  dependence  on  which  we  have 
leaned,  then  fails  us.  And,  if  in  other  cases 
the  child  of  God  cries  with  Moses,  If  thy 
presence  go  not  with  us,  take  us  not  up 
from  hence — With  what  awful  anxiety  will 
he  ask  after  this  conductor,  when  he  comes 
to  the  entrance  of  this  dark  valley,  and  looks 
in. — In  this  position,  the  sweet  singer  in  our 
British  Israel  represents  the  believer,  and 
puts  this  language  into  his  trembling  lips — 

O,  if  my  Lord  would  come  and  meet, 
My  soul  shall  stretch  her  wings  in  haste  ; 

Ply  fearless  through  death's  iron  gate, 
Nor  feel  the  terror  as  she  pass'd. 

Well,  he  indulges  this  unavoidable  wish. 
He  not  only  comes  to  the  other  side  to  re- 
ceive us  to  himself,  that  where  he  is  there 
we  may  be  also ;  but  he  comes  to  r his  side 
— and  accompanies  us — all  through  he  is 
with  us. 

The  second  is  the  Divine  attention  :  Thy 
rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me.  It  would 
be  trifling  to  give  each  of  these  terms  a  sepa- 
rate import.    By  an  allowance,  common  in 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


217 


all  language,  but  especially  in  poetry,  two 
words  are  used  for  the  same  thing.  This 
thing  means  the  pastoral  crook:  and  the 
pastoral  crook  means  the  pastoral  care.  This 
adds  therefore  to  the  former  assurance.  God 
will  not  only  be  with  us,  but  as  a  shepherd — 
as  a  good  shepherd,  exercising  the  care  we 
need  in  this  unfriendly  condition — and  exer- 
cising it  in  such  a  way,  as  not  only  to  guide 
and  guard  us,  but  to  provide  for  us  where 
there  seemed  to  be  no  possibility  of  pasture 
to  feed  us — yea,  to  comfort  us — Thy  rod  and 
thy  staff,  they  comfort  me.    It  reminds  us  of 
the  language  of  God  concerning  his  church, 
in  the  second  chapter  of  Hosea,  and  the  four- 
teenth and  fifteenth  verses.  •  I  will  allure 
her  and  bring'  her  into  the  wilderness — and 
there  she  will  surely  be  dreary  and  alone : 
there  she  must  surely  be  destitute ;  she  can- 
not look  after  any  tiling  like  a  garden  in  a 
desert;  there  she  will  only  nourish  despair; 
or  sigh  in  anguish:  nay  /  will  speak  comfort- 
ably unto  her  :  and  I  will  give  her  her  vine- 
yards— from  thence ;  and  the  valley  of  Achor 
— for  a  door  of  hope  ;  and  she  shall  sing — 
there,  as  in  the  days  of  her  youth,  and  as  in 
the  day  when  she  came  up  out  of  the  land 
of  Egypt.    Paul  speaks  of  strong  consola- 
tion :  and  it  must  be  strong  indeed,  when  af- 
fliction, however  depressing,  cannot  subdue 
it,  or  death  itself  destroy  or  diminish  it. 

But  could  David  reckon  upon  this  ]  He 
could.  He  had  no  uncertainty  of  mind  re- 
specting either  the  presence  or  the  care  of 
his  heavenly  Shepherd.  But  whence  did  he 
derive  this  assurance,  that  enabled  him  to 
say,  even  in  reference  to  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  Thou  art  with  me;  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me? 

It  was  derived  first  from  the  word  of  God, 
which  cannot  be  broken,  in  which  he  has  re- 
vealed his  designs  concerning  us,  and  bound 
himself  by  the  most  solemn  engagements,  all 
in  unison  with  this  promise  ;  Fear  thou  not ; 
for  I  am  with  thee:  be  not  dismayed ;  for  I 
am  thy  God,  I  will  strengthen  thee ;  yea,  I 
will  help  thee  ;  yea,  I  will  uphold  thee  with 
the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness. 

And,  secondly,  from  his  own  experience. 
How  often  does  he  remember  the  years  of 
the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High.  How  often 
does  he  remark  what  God  hath  done  for  his 
soul.  How  encouragingly  and  confidently 
does  he  reason  from  the  past  to  the  future; 
from  what  God  had  been  to  what  he  would 
be;  concluding  that  he  remained  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;  would  perfect 
that  which  concerned  him,  and  forsake  not 
the  work  of  his  own  hands.  What  time  I 
am  afraid,  I  will  trust  in  thee.  Because 
thou  hast  been  my  help,  therefore  under  the 
shadow  of  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice.  From 
the  end  of  the  earth  will  I  cry  unto  thee, 
when  my  heart  is  overwhelmed :  lead  me  to 
the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I.  For  thou 
2E  19 


hast  been  a  shelter  for  me,  and  a  strong 
tower  from  the  enemy.  I  will  abide  in  thy 
tabernacle  for  ever  :  I  will  trust  in  the  covert 
of  thy  toings. — Such  is  the  ground  of  the 
believer's  hope ;  and  it  maketh  not  ashamed. 

— But  I  forbear  enlargement,  in  order  to 
meet  the  eager  expectation  of  this  crowded 
assembly,  in  noticing  the  event  that  has 
brought  me  hither  this  morning — an  event 
which  will  afford  us  a  better  exemplification 
of  our  subject,  than  any  your  preacher  has 
been  able  to  afford ;  and  which  cannot  fail  to 
strengthen  our  conviction  that  we  are  not 
following  cunningly  devised  fables. 

I  am  not  fond  of  funeral  eulogies;  and  in 
the  case  before  us,  an  attempt  at  panegyric 
is  unnecessary,  if  not  improper,  as  the  de- 
ceased is  already  so  well  known,  and  so 
highly  esteemed  among  you ;  and  her  cha- 
racter, like  a  beautiful  form,  would  be  injur- 
ed, rather  than  benefited,  by  finery  and  paint. 
But  from  justice  to  my  own  observation,  and 
to  the  competent  and  harmonious  testimony 
of  numbers  who  had  better  opportunities  of 
remark,  I  feel  myself  compelled  to  say,  that 
I  consider  Mrs.  Berry,  not  only  as  one  of  the 
excellent  of  the  earth,  but  one  of  the  most 
excellent — one  of  the  most,  amiable,  consist- 
ent, exemplary,  edifying  Christians,  in  every 
relation  and  office  she  was  called  to  fill,  that 
any  of  our  churches  could  ever  boast. 

I  never  think  it  of  much  importance  to  in- 
quire how,  persons  became  religious,  if  it  ap- 
pears that  they  are  actually  in  the  possession, 
and  under  the  influence  of  it    The  work 
must  be  of  God,  and  the  grand  tiling  to  ascer- 
tain is  the  reality  of  it  by  its  effects.  In  many 
very  eminent  Christians,  the  operation  is  very 
gradual,  and  attended  with  none  of  those  re- 
markable circumstances  which  would  form 
a  narrative.    The  event  that  was  chiefly  in- 
strumental, in  the  conversion  of  our  departed 
friend,  was  the  conversation  of  her  very  amia- 
ble and  worthy  brother-in-law.    It  is  observ- 
able, that  this  friend  to  religion,  at  the  same 
time,  and  in  the  same  way,  was  rendered 
useful  to  her  sister,  who,  after  walking  as  an 
heir  of  the  grace  of  life,  died  happy  in  the 
Lord  Jesus,  i  I  mention  this  to  excite  and  en- 
courage religious  conversation ;  and  to  enforce 
the  words  of  Solomon — In  the  morning  sow 
thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold  not 
thine  hand :  for  thou  knowest  not  whether 
shall  prosper,  either  this  or  that,  or  whether 
they  both  shall  be  alike  good. 

The  religion  of  Mrs.  Berry  was  not  only 
real,  but  peculiar  and  distinguishing ;  and 
there  are  several  circumstances  in  her  con- 
duct, and  several  attributes  in  her  character 
which  I  wish  to  notice,  as  largely  as  the  li- 
mits of  our  time  will  permit. 

Piety  is  not  always  combined  with  gentili- 
ty, and  talent.  But  Mrs.  Berry  was  descend- 
ed from  a  family  of  respectability,  and  had 
been  favoured  with  the  advantage  of  a  good 


218 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


education.    She  possessed  all  the  elegant  ac- 
complishments, and  was  company  tor  any 
class  of  society.    She  had  no  ordinary  share 
of  mental  discrimination  and  taste.  Her 
remarks  on  books,  and  preachers,  and  charac- 
ters, were  always  judicious,  though  never 
obtruded  on  others,  or  blended  with  ill  nature 
and  censoriousness.    Her  judgment  concern- 
ing religion  itself,  may  be  in  a  measure  in- 
ferred from  a  single  observation.  Having 
some  time  ago,  finished  a  course  of  reading, 
part  of  which  included  Mrs.  Rowe's  Devo- 
tional Exercises,  William's  Diary,  Garie's 
and  Pearce's  Memoirs,  the  Lives  of  Miss 
Anthony  and  Mrs.  Bennet,  and  Brainerd,  she 
said  to  her  husband,  "  I  think  if  a  young  per- 
son was  to  ask  me  where  religion  might  be 
seen  apart  from  the  Bible,  I  would  put  into 
his  hands  the  lives  of  her  subjects.  The  lives 
of  saints,  indiscriminately,  would  not  do,  even 
supposing  they  could  all  be  written.  Nor 
would  all  those  answer  the  purpose,  whose 
characters  might  be  irreproachable.  Religion 
herself  is  amiable,  and  inviting.  Attraction 
is  her  grand  character.    I  would  not  put  into 
such  hands  Mrs.  Rowe's  Exercises.    Her  re- 
ligion is  too  much  passion :  she  soars,  and  she 
flies,  and  is  lost  in  her  feelings.  Brainerd  was 
a  holy  man,  and  we  cannot  but  revere  his 
memory :  still,  in  all  his  religion  there  ap- 
peared that  melancholy  tinge  which  was  con- 
stitutional. Pearce  was  an  amiable  Christian ; 
and  so  was  Garie.    But  I  think  I  should  give 
first  of  all  William's  Diary.    There  I  see  a 
combination  of  grace  and  intellect.    There  is 
the  whole  scene  displayed.    There  you  have 
not  the  effervescence  of  religion  only  but  the 
Christian  warfare.    You  witness  all  his  in- 
firmities, and  you  see  in  what  way  they  were 
brought  into  subjection.    You  witness  the 
tendency  of  his  religion,  and  see  him  habitu- 
ally rising  towards  God ;  but  you  see  him  also 
sobered  by  sense,  and  struggling  with  sor- 
row."   When  her  husband  asked,  "  But  how 
does  this  accord  with  my  Eliza's  opinion,  that 
the  grand  character  of  religion  is  attraction?" 
With  an  eye  full  of  expression  she  promptly 
replied :  "  Is  not  the  attraction  of  truth,  its 
unreservedness ;  its  honesty  V    Her  opinion 
of  authors  was  evinced  in  the  selection  which 
adorned  her  little  separate  study.  Through 
a  gTeat  part  of  the  winter  of  1810,  she  was  an 
evening  prisoner  in  her  own  house,  and  as, 
at  that  time  her  children  were  too  young, 
even  for  maternal  address,  her  time  was  prin- 
cipally spent  in  reading — especially  in  read- 
ing her  Bible.    Hence  were  derived  her  in- 
structions, her  reproofs,  her  hopes,  and  her 
joys.    This  book  gratified  her  intellectual  as 
well  as  her  religious  taste.    How  often  at 
this  season  would  she  come  down  from  her 
closet,  and  embracing  her  husband,  say,  "  Jo- 
seph, the  Bible  is  my  all.    Its  matter  and  its 
manner  6uit  me.    Its  subject  is  good,  and  the 


dern  ministers  attend  too  much  to  style  and 
phraseology ;  the  old  writers,  often  attended 
to  matter  at  the  expense  of  language — my 
Bible  regards  both.  I  do  not  shut  this  book 
and  say,  O  how  tedious !  or,  O  how  superficial ! 
It  is  all  I  want,  and  as  I  want  it." 

The  religion  of  this  saint  was  not  occasion- 
al ;  it  did  not  depend  upon  particular  seasons, 
and  exercises,  and  occurrences.    She  was  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long  :  and  ac- 
knowledged him  in  all  her  ways.    No  one 
loved  the  habitation  of  God's  house  more  than 
she  did,  but  her  devotion  was  not  confined  to 
it.    It  was  not  roving  and  hearing-religion. 
It  appeared  in  public,  but  it  lived  in  private — 
it  was  closet  and  family-religion.    It  was  not 
a  thing  separable  from  her,  and  which  was 
sometimes  assumed  and  sometimes  laid  aside; 
but  it  was  a  principle  wrought  into  all  her 
feelings,  habits,  and  actions.    Let  me  adduce 
a  partial,  but  interesting  illustration.  After 
the  month  of  November,  1811,  she  scarcely 
ever  went  out.    Her  Sabbath-day  evenings 
were  employed  in  reading  the  Scriptures,  and 
holding  familiar  dialogues  with  her  three 
babes.    After  hearing  them  repeat  a  short 
prayer,  and  one  of  Watts's  little  hymns  for 
children,  she  seated  them  each  in  a  separate 
chair,  while  with  maternal  simplicity  and  en- 
dearment, she  heard  and  answered  their 
questions,  and  proposed  her  own.  Dismissing 
the  two  youngest  to  rest,  the  eldest  (being 
now  six  years  old)  was  retained  up  a  little 
longer.    With  him,  her  constant  Sabbath-day 
evening  custom  was  to  kneel  and  pray.  At 
these  periods  she  forgot  herself  in  endeavour- 
ing to  interest  her  boy.    She  would  begin 
with  prayer  for  his  father,  who  at  that  precise 
period  was  preaching ;  then  she  would  pray 
for  her  children,  one  by  one.    After  men- 
tioning their  names,  she  either  implored  for- 
giveness for  foibles,  or  expressed  her  grati- 
tude that  "the  great  God  had  made  them 
such  good  children."    Taking  this  boy  one 
day  into  the  parlour  where  she  usually  per- 
formed these  exercises,  his  father  asked  him 
if  his  dear  mother  did  not  sometimes  kneel 
with  him  and  pray ;  with  eyes  instantly  filled 
with  tears,  the  little  disciple  artlessly  replied, 
"  Yes,  father,  mother  used  to  kneel  at  that 
chair,  and  hold  my  hand,  and  pray  for  father 
that  he  may  do  good,  and  for  me,  and  Henry, 
and  for  little  Mary,  and  for  all  of  us." — O,  ye 
mothers,  sanctify  your  tenderness  and  your 
influence.    How  much  depends  upon  your 
gentle  and  early  endeavours]    How  often 
may  you  sow  the  seed  which  after  a  lapse  of 
time  shall  revive  and  flourish,  thirty,  sixty, 
and  a  hundred  fold !  How  often  has  a  disobe- 
dient son  been  reclaimed,  by  the  remembrance 
of  the  eloquent  tears  of  her  who  bore  him,  or 
the  pressure  of  her  trembling  hand  when  de- 
livering her  dying  charge !    What  did  Mr. 
Cecil  and  Mr.  Newton  owe  to  the  lessons 


treatment,  if  possible,  makes  it  better.    Mo- 1  their  mothers  taught  them !  What  did  Time- 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


219 


thy  owe  to  his  grandmother,  Lois,  and  his 
mother,  Eunice?  What  did  Samuel  owe  to 
Hannah  ?  We  know  little  of  Jesse,  but  how 
often  and  tenderly  does  David  in  his  devo- 
tions refer  to  his  mother,  and  plead  the  rela- 
tion in  which  he  had  the  honour  and  happi- 
ness of  standing  to  her — "  Save  the  son  of 
thine  handmaid."  "  Truly  I  am  thy  servant, 
and  the  son  of  thine  handmaid." — "  I  think," 
said  this  deceased  mother,  about  a  fortnight 
before  her  death,  "  I  think,  in  looking  back  on 
all  these  seasons,  my  sweetest  exercises  were 
with  my  dear  boy  on  the  Sabbath  evenings : 
— The  house  was  still :  my  babes  were  in  bed : 
my  husband  was  labouring  for  God  in  the 
sanctuary  :  every  thing  aided  and  inspired  de- 
votion. I  think  my  dear  boy  will  never  forget 
some  of  these  seasons,  any  more  than  myself. 
O,  my  happy  seasons  with  my  infant  son." 
Similar  to  this  was  her  attention  to  the  re- 
ligious welfare,  as  well  as  domestic  comfort 
of  her  servants.  She  would  often  converse 
with  them  on  the  concerns  of  their  souls,  and 
administer  reproof  with  mildness,  or  encou- 
ragement with  tenderness,  as  their  state  re- 
quired. The  servant  living  with  her  at  the 
time  of  her  death,  remarked  with  tears  "  That 
she  little  thought  when  she  entered  the  fami- 
ly, that  her  master  would  have  proved  her 
spiritual  father,  and  her  dear  mistress  her 
spiritual  nurse."  But  so  it  was.  On  the 
Sabbath-day  evening,  it  was  common  before 
prayer,  for  the  master  to  repeat  the  outlines 
of  one  of  the  sermons  that  day  delivered,  the 
mistress  that  of  another,  and  the  servant  that 
of  the  third.  Thus  there  was  friendship  to 
soften  authority,  and  to  sweeten  subjection  : 
while  it  insured  subordination,  it  made  them 
forgetful  of  dominion  or  dependence  :  it  was 
a  family  of  love. 

Her  humility  was  one  of  her  distinguish- 
ing qualities.  She  was  clothed  with  it  She 
had  no  religious  ostentation  about  her.  She 
was  like  the  s«n  which  is  unavoidably  and 
only  seen  in  doing  good :  or  the  violet  that 
is  betrayed  in  its  concealed  retreat  by  its 
fragrance.  She  did  not,  like  many,  talk  of 
her  spiritual  attainments,  or  say  much  of  her 
experience.  Neither  was  she  always  in 
company  uttering  expressions  of  her  un- 
worthiness  and  vileness — this  she  felt,  and 
the  sense  of  it  influenced  her  ;  but  as  Mrs. 
More  observes,  humility  consists  not  in  tell- 
ing her  faults,  but  in  being  willing  to  be  told 
them ;  and  judging  by  this  standard,  it  is  to 
be  feared  the  lowly  complaints  of  many  pro- 
fessors against  themselves,  will  be  found  to 
be,  not  only  less  than  nothing,  but  worse  than 
nothing.  The  deeper  the  river,  the  more 
noiseless  it  rolls  by  ;  it  is  the  shallow  rivulet 
that  breaks,  and  bubbles,  and  deadens  your 
ears  with  its  sound. — Her  intimate  friends 
knew  much  that  her  common  acquaintances 
never  knew :  her  husband  knew  much  that 
her  intimate  friends  never  knew :  her  God 


knew  much  that  her  husband  never  knew — 
her  life  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 

Let  me  remark  another  feature  equally 
obvious  in  our  deceased  friend  ;  I  mean  her 
kindness.  This  was  a  perpetual  stream 
flowing  from  the  fountain  of  a  warm  heart — 

"  Ne'er  roughen'd  by  those  cataracts  and  breakB, 
Which  humour  interposed  too  often  makes." 

She  was  free  from 

"  Temper  flaws  unseemly." 

She  had  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great 
price.  She  listened  to  no  backbiter.  She 
spake  evil  of  no  man.  Upon  her  tongue  was 
the  law  of  kindness.  In  doing  good  she  was 
in  her  element ;  and  she  not  only  seized,  but 
sought  opportunities  to  be  useful.  She  loved 
the  poor.  She  often  visited  them.  She  pro- 
moled  no  less  than  three  charitable  institu- 
tions in  her  own  neighbourhood,  and  was 
secretary  to  them  all. 

Her  prudence  was  pre-eminent.  It  ap- 
peared in  all  her  conduct.  She  seemed  in- 
tuitively to  perceive  all  the  proprieties  of  ac- 
tion, in  whatever  combination  of  circumstan- 
ces she  was  placed.  But  this  quality  is  to  be 
chiefly  noticed  in  her  as  the  wife  of  a  minis- 
ter. This  I  have  always  considered  as  one 
of  the  most  difficult  spheres  for  a  female  to 
fill  up  properly  ;  but  she  filled  it  up  without 
censure  and  without  envy.  She  had  no  he- 
ralds to  carry  and  bring  news  respecting 
households  and  individuals.  She  had  no 
familiars  into  whose  possession  she  com- 
pletely put  herself,  and  who  were  privy  to 
all  her  opinions;  and  though  she  had  her 
select  friends,  they  were  chosen  after  slow 
and  judicious  observation ;  and  in  all  her 
intercourse  even  with  them,  remembering 
her  peculiar  relation,  she  maintained  a  de- 
gree of  dignified  reserve.  Often  when 
sounded  respecting  the  characters  or  actions 
of  others,  she  would  reply  with  a  sweet 
smile  in  her  face ;  "  You  forget  that  I  am  a 
minister's  wife ;  she  may  tell  her  husband 
what  she  thinks  and  hears,  but  she  must  only 
tell  his  flock  what  is  calculated  to  promote 
their  peace."  She  never  embroiled  her  hus- 
band in  ecclesiastical  contests ;  never  urged 
him  to  look  abroad  after  a  more  popular 
sphere ;  never  stimulated  him  to  exact  more 
prerogative;  never  made  him  discontented 
by  intimations  that  the  respect  shown  him 
was  not  equal  to  his  claims.  More  than  once, 
when  he  received  an  invitation  to  labour  for 
a  while  in  a  much  larger  congregation,  she 
has  said,  "  My  Joseph,  let  me  beseech  you 
to  decline  it.  Many  of  our  young  ministers 
seem  too  eager  to  catch  at  popularity,  and  to 
rove  abroad.  Let  us  be  satisfied  with  the 
condition  in  which  the  Lord  has  fixed  us. 
His  eye  is  always  upon  us,  and  he  regards 
not  the  splendour  of  the  station,  but  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  discharge  the  duties  arising 


220 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


from  it."  Though  exceedingly  attached  to 
his  company,  she  was  not  so  selfish  as  to  wish 
to  detain  him  from  his  studies ;  or  his  official 
work.  She  would  often  gently  call  him  from 
his  books,  and  remind  him,  that  a  minister 
was  not  only  to  read  and  make  sermons,  but 
to  visit  the  fatherless  and  the  widow  in  their 
affliction,  and  to  speak  a  word  in  season  to 
them  that  are  weary. 

Her  attention  to  order  and  regularity  was 
singular.  Life  with  her  was  a  system,  and 
every  thing  in  it  had  its  due  time  and  im- 
portance. Hence  she  knew  nothing  of  that 
hurry  and  fretfulness  occasioned  by  omission 
and  confusion.  In  her  last  illness  she  looked 
forward  and  arranged  every  thing  however 
minute.  On  giving  up  her  books,  as  secre- 
tary, a  few  weeks  before  she  died,  her  coun- 
tenance was  a  true  index  of  her  mind ;  but 
when  the  different  ladies,  (as  temporary 
treasurers  till  an  extraordinary  meeting  could 
be  called)  were  gone,  she  exclaimed,  "  Bless- 
ed be  my  God  for  this.  I  should  not  have 
liked  my  husband  or  my  children  to  have 
been  reproached  with  unprincipled  or  inac- 
curate accounts ;  above  all,  I  should  have 
been  sorry  if  the  cause  of  my  Jesus  has  suf- 
fered. Religion  is  with  me  a  sacred  cause, 
and  concern  for  its  honour  in  every  thing, 
little  or  great,  a  sacred  duty. — Indeed  there 
is  nothing  about  religion  little,  because  it  all 
regards  God."  She  examined  all  her  papers, 
destroying  those  she  did  not  wish  to  have 
preserved,  and  neatly  folding  up  all  the  rest. 
An  inventory  of  all  the  household  furniture, 
and  of  all  the  children's  apparel  was  written 
by  her,  and  given  to  her  husband — so  that  in 
a  moment  he  could  find  every  thing  he  wish- 
ed. She  had  cut  with  her  own  hand,  and 
laid  by  in  the  same  order  in  which  it  was  to 
be  used,  work  for  her  dear  little  girl  to  sew 
for  twelve  months  to  come.  No  circumstance 
connected  with  her  funeral  had  she  over- 
looked. And  one  thing  in  particular,  as  very 
characteristical  of  the  self-possession  which 
enabled  her  to  provide  for  every  case  that 
could  result  from  her  condition,  I  cannot  for- 
bear to  mention.  It  was  intended  that  she 
should  have  been  buried  in  the  vault  under 
the  communion  table.  At  the  last  adminis- 
tration of  the  Lord's  supper,  her  husband, 
struck  with  the  thought,  that  when  perform- 
ing the  next  service  of  this  kind,  his  beloved 
wife  would  be  lying  beneath  his  feet,  was 
too  much  affected  to  proceed.  She  accident- 
ally heard  of  this;  and  without  consulting 
or  informing  him,  she  sent  for  some  of  the 
gentlemen  belonging  to  the  church,  and  ex- 
pressed to  them  her  dying  wish,  that  she 
might  be  buried  under  the  front  gallery  ! 
Her  wish  was  gratified. 

But  how  am  I  going  on.  Much  I  have 
remarked  already,  and  yet  I  have  much  more 
which  I  wish  to  notice  if  your  time  would 
allow.    Will  you,  my  Christian  friends,  ex- 


cuse me,  if  I  protract  the  service  a  little 
beyond  the  usual  limits?  We  are  not  as- 
sembled on  an  ordinary  occasion — I  hope  we 
are  come  hither  to  learn  to  die. 

And  O !  what  a  death  was  here  !  Few, 
even  among  the  subjects  of  divine  grace, 
have  ever  been  so  favoured  in  their  last  ill- 
ness and  their  last  moments.  Those  friends 
who  had  the  best  opportunity  of  observing, 
and  on  whose  judgment,  as  well  as  piety  we 
can  rely,  have  uniformly  acknowledged,  that 
they  never  witnessed  a  scene  so  blessed,  so 
glorious.  Her  afflicted  chamber  was  none 
other  than  the  house  of  God,  and  the  very 
gate  of  heaven.  Here  was  doctor  Watts's 
strong  language  realized — 

And  lose  my  life  among  the  charms 
Of  so  divine  a  dealh. 

What  shall  I  bring  forward  ?  Her  sere- 
nity of  mind  ?  It  was  more  than  serenity  ; 
it  was  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory. 

Some  representations  and  expressions  must 
not  die  with  her.  We  will  follow  the  order 
of  time  in  stating  them. 

From  the  end  of  December,  till  beyond  the 
middle  of  January,  she  scarcely  ever  com- 
posed herself  to  sleep,  without  repeating 
again  and  again  the  little  song  said  to  be 
composed  by  an  Indian;  the  second  verse  of 
which  she  after  rehearsed  with  a  kind  of 
transport — 

"  A  few  more  rising  suns  at  most 
Will  land  me  safe  on  Canaan's  coast  " 

On  the  30th  of  January,  her  husband  re- 
turned from  the  funeral  of  a  relative,  which 
he  had  been  called  to  attend  at  a  distance 
from  home.  A  friend  was  then  sitting  in  the 
room  with  her,  but  as  soon  as  she  had  with- 
drawn, this  beloved  bride  hung  round  the 
neck  of  her  husband,  and  said,  "  My  Joseph, 
my  dearest  Joseph,  the  time  is  very  near  that 
we  must  part.  I  have  no  cause  for  sorrow 
at  the  thought ;  but  I  know  you  will  sorrow : 
but  do  not  sorrow  over  much.  My  God  is 
your  God,  and  will  be  so  to  the  end.  He  will 
also  be  the  God  of  my  dear  children.  En- 
deavour to  make  up  your  mind  to  the  stroke, 
and  be  assured  it  is  his  doing  who  doth  all 
things  well.  My  tears  are  flowing  fast,  and 
yours  are  flowing  fast,  but  they  are  all  drop- 
ping into  our  Redeemer's  bosom.  He  knows 
our  circumstances,  and  we  must  live  upon 
that  sure  promise ;  as  thy  day  thy  strength 
shall  be .'"  On  his  replying,  "  Why,  my 
dearest  creature,  do  you  think  thus  !"  she  re- 
joined, "  I  know  that  I  am  going  home,  and 
that  heaven  is  my  home;  yes,  my  dearest 
home,  from  the  inexpressible  enjoyment  I 
have  had.  I  have  lain  on  that  bed,  and  had 
more  joy  than  a  mere  mortal  could  hold ;  such 
joy  would  not  do  for  creatures — it  would  be 
more  than  they  could  sustain.  The  twenty- 
third  psalm  was  a  heavenly  message  to  me, 
and  with  calmness  and  the  certain  prospect 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


221 


of  soon  entering  the  valley,  I  could  say,  / 
will  fear  no  evil — no,  not  even  there — for 
thou  art  with  me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they 
comfort  me.  I  tried  to  sing  this  and  much 
more  in  the  night,  but  I  had  no  voice;  and 
therefore  I  sung  it  only  in  spirit."  Having 
exhausted  herself  with  her  tears  and  her  dis- 
course, she  dropped  asleep;  but  presently  af- 
ter awaking,  and  feeling  her  weakness,  she 
said,  "  My  flesh  and  my  heart  fail,  but  God  is 
the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my  portion  for 
ever." 

February  2d.  While  two  friends  were 
sitting  by  her  bed-side,  she  expatiated  most 
sweetly  on  the  glories  of  heaven,  and  her  as- 
sured hope  of  going  there.  As  one  of  them 
left  the  room,  her  little  girl  entered  it,  and 
when  the  babe  showed  herself  at  the  corner 
of  her  curtain,  she  observed,  "  There,  I 
thought  I  never  should  have  been  able  to 
give  up  that  child ;  but  now  I  can  do  even 
this,  and  do  it  without  the  least  anxiety.  It 
is  my  Father's  will  we  should  separate ;  his 
will  is  mine:  and  cannot  I  leave  her  with 
himr' 

February  4th.  Her  husband  in  the  eve- 
ning announced  her  medical  friend  was  come. 
She  was,  at  that  instant,  sitting  up  in  bed  and 
reading  her  Bible ;  as  he  entered  the  room 
she  shut  it,  but  after  his  departure  said,  "  I 
thought  to  avoid  ostentation  by  putting  my 
Bible  away,  but  it  struck  me,  why  should  I 
do  it  ?  Precious  book !  thou  art  all  my  con- 
solation and  support.  If  the  gay  and  the 
worldly  are  not  ashamed  of  their  cards,  would 
it  have  been  right  for  me  to  have  been  asham- 
ed of  thee?  Surely  not.  But  lest  it  should 
appear  like  Pharisaic  righteousness,  I  shut  it 

and  talked  to  Mr.  about  my  feelings  and 

my  prospects." — Pausing  a  little  for  breath, 
she  added — My  present  experience  is  truly 
blessed.  The  clouds  in  the  air  pass  swiftly 
along,  nor  hide  the  sun  from  view."  I  do 
not  mean  the  dark,  black  clouds  which  are 
impenetrable,  but  the  upper  clouds  on  a  sum- 
mer's day :  through  them  the  sun  diffuses  his 
light  and  heat,  so  that  while  they  pass,  one 
is  scarcely  aware  of  them.  I  have  my  clouds, 
weakness,  weariness,  and  pains;  but  my 
greatest  pain  is,  when  thinking  on  the  pain 
of  separation ;  nevertheless,  through  all  these, 
Jesus,  my  blessed  sun,  is  seen.  He  soothes 
and  cheers  me ;  and  but  for  the  sorrow  of  my 
dearest  Joseph,  I  should  say,  I  am  without 
anxiety." 

February  5th.  Was  spent  chiefly  in  ar- 
ranging domestic  concerns,  and  the  still  more 
awful  concerns  of  her  funeral. — She  said, 
"  if  there  must  be  a  funeral  sermon,  let  the 
text  be,  Psalm  xxiii.  4.    The  hymns 

THE  FIRST. 

"  When  languor  and  disease  invade 
This  trembling  house  of  clay, 
'Tis  sweet  to  look  beyond  our  cage, 
And  long  to  fly  away,  &c." 

19* 


THE  SECOND. 

"Here  what  the  voice  from  heaven  proclaims 
For  all  the  pious  dead ; 
Sweet  is  the  savour  of  their  names, 
And  soft  their  sleeping  bed,  &.c." 

THE  THIRD. 

"The  Lord  my  shepherd  is, 
I  shall  be  well  supplied, 
Since  he  is  mine,  and  I  am  his, 
What  can  I  want  beside,  &c." 

She  strictly  enjoined,  "  Let  nothing  be  said 
of  me,  but  what  grace  has  done  in  me,  and 
done  for  me.  I  have  hope  towards  God  be- 
yond a  doubt ;  and  this  hope  is  founded,  not 
on  frames  or  visions,  but  a  comparison  of  my 
state  with  the  word  of  my  God.  There  I 
read,  man  is  a  poor,  lost,  ignorant,  unholy 
creature.  I  both  believe  it  and  feel  it,  but  so 
effectually  has  grace  wrought  in  me,  that 
though  lost,  I  cry  unto  God  for  mercy — 
though  ignorant,  I  go  unto  him  for  wisdom. 
I  find  the  gospel  suited  to  my  state.  I  look 
out  of  myself  entirely.  I  go  as  one  utterly 
lost  to  Jesus  Christ.  I  wish  no  alteration  in 
the  doctrine  of  his  cross.  I  would  be  saved 
in  the  very  way  he  has  revealed,  though  I 
had  the  choice  of  more,  and  millions  more,  if 
possible." 

February  6th.  A  friend  calling,  she  said  to 
her,  "  My  hopes  rest  on  the  Deity  and  atone- 
ment of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  told 
Mr.  Berry  I  would  have  him  preach  no  other 
doctrines  than  those  he  has  done  all  along ; 
they  are  doctrines  suited  to  sinners,  one  of 
whom  is  his  Eliza." — An  old  deacon,  (much 
like  herself,  ripening  for  glory)  when  he  ap- 
proached her  bed-side,  said,  "  well,  my  good 
friend,  how  do  you  do  now  !"  To  whom  she 
replied,  "  Almost  at  home — my  precious  Bible, 
true  every  tittle — I  never  thought  it  could 
have  supported  me  thus,  but  it  does — I  never 
thought  I  could  have  enjoyed  so  much — I 
have  not  an  anxious  wish — It  is  heaven  al- 
ready begun — I  am  happy  as  I  can  be  on  this 
side  heaven — 

"  A  mortal  paleness  on  my  cheek 
And  glory  in  my  soul." 

A  friend  from  a  little  distance  calling  that 
evening,  she  spake  most  delightfully  of  her 
extatic  joy,  and  as  he  was  taking  his  fare- 
well, and.  leaving  her  with  the  mention  of 
the  name  of  Jesus,  she  closed  the  conversa- 
tion, repeating, 

"  A  guilty,  weak,  and  helpless  worm, 
On  thy  kind  arm  I  fall ; 
Be  thou  my  strength  anil  righteousness, 
My  Jesus,  and  my  all." 

February  11.  To  several  friends  she  said, 
"  Jesus  is  very  precious.  I  have  no  anxiety. 
Every  thing  is  settled.  My  drawers,  my 
house,  my  treasurer's  books,  my  children,  my 
all — I  have  nothing  to  do  but  die  and  go 
home." 

February  13.  She  said  to  a  friend,  "  Surely 
all  this  cannot  be  delusion."  To  another,  "I 
am  not  gone  yet.    The  dross  is  not  all  taken 


222 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


away ;  I  shall  not  go  till  it  is."  The  last 
friend  who  saw  her  on  that  day,  witnessed 
her  very  much  enfeebled  indeed,  but  putting 
his  ear  towards  her,  he  distinctly  heard  the 
whisper,  "  All  is  heaven  and  peace  within." 
While  her  husband  and  servant  were  turning 
her  in  the  bed,  she  remarked,  "  Ah,  my  dear, 
it  is  hard  work,"  and  recollecting,  caught  up 
her  words,  "  Hard  did  I  say  3  no,  I'll  recall 
that  word,  it  looks  like  repining ;  it  is  not 
hard,  but  requires  more  than  nature  to  ac- 
quiesce in." 

February  15.  To  a  friend  she  observed, 
"  It  seems  as  if  there  were  no  enemy.  He 
is,  as  good  Bunyan  says,  '  as  still  as  a  stone.'  " 
I  scarcely  think  of  him.  My  Jesus  is  all  my 
salvation,  and  all  my  desire." 

February  16.  "  My  Jesus  is  very  precious 
to  me.  Had  I  had  breath,  oh  how  could  I 
have  sung  of  him  in  the  night."  On  a  kind 
friend's  leaving  her,  she  said,  "Tell  your 
dear  sister  what  I  enjoy ;  it  is  not  like  a  death 
bed — it  is  sleeping  in  my  Jesus's  arms." 

February  17.  When  it  was  thought  she 
was  actually  going  "  It  is  sweet  to  die  in 
Jesus — Bless  God,  my  dear,  I  am  so  happy — 
Though  I  walk  through  the  valley,"  &c. 
About  a  quarter  past  eleven  o'clock  that  eve- 
ning, while  profound  silence  was  kept,  she 
broke  it,  and  with  seemingly  more  than  hu- 
man voice  she  uttered 

"  There  shall  we  see  his  face, 
And  never,  never  sin, 
There  from  the  rivers  of  his  grace 
Drink  endless  pleasures  in." 

Pausing,  as  though  every  word  seemed  a 
feast  to  her  soul,  she  added — 

"  For  ever  his  dear  sacred  name 
Shall  dwell  upon  my  tongue, 
And  Jesus  and  salvation  be 
The  close  of  every  song." 

Her  breath  scarcely  allowing  her  to  reach 
the  last  word,  she  lay  quietly  meditating,  but 
after  waiting  perhaps  more  than  a  minute, 
with  seraphic  accents  she  burst  forth  again — 

Yes,  thou  art  precious  to  my  soul, 

My  transport  and  my  trust, 
Jewels  to  thee  are  gaudy  toys, 

And  gold  is  sordid  dust. 

Her  arms  falling,  her  husband  attempted 
to  put  the  one  next  him  into  bed.  Speaking 
of  her  being  much  reduced,  she  said  "  Worms 
will  not  feast  much  on  me. — Blessed  be  God 
I  am  not  afraid  of  worms. 

"  Though  greedy  worms  devour  my  skin 
And  gnaw  my  wasting  flesh, 
When  God  shall  build  my  bones  again. 
He  clothes  them  all  afresh." 

In  the  night,  she  begged  her  husband  to 
pray  once  more  with  her.  He  did  it;  but 
when  it  was  over  she  said  "  My  dear,  you 
have  forgotten  to  pray  for  one  thing."  He 
asked  "  What  is  that?"  "  Why,  that  we  may 
be  prepared  for  and  supported  in  the  parting 
hour."  When  he  intimated  the  difficulty  of 
doing  it,  she  pleasingly  and  firmly  replied, 


"  Well,  I  can  do  it ;  and  much  as  I  love  my 
Joseph,  I  can  leave  him  to  go  to  my  Jesus." 
And  then  taking  his  hand,  she  prayed,  ac- 
knowledging the  kindness  of  God  in  uniting 
them,  the  happiness  they  had  proved  in  each 
other,  &.c.  After  this  she  dozed  and  enjoyed 
some  calm  hours.  About  ten  minutes  past 
seven  in  the  morning  she  was  evidently 
seized  for  death.  During  her  illness  she  had 
frequently  requested  Christian  friends  to  pray 
for  an  easy  dismissal,  and  God,  her  gracious 
God,  answered  prayer.  While  the  perspira- 
tion was  breaking  forth  in  all  directions,  and 
every  oozing  drop  seemed  larger  and  larger, 
she  inarticulately  uttered,  in  broken  accents — 
"Valley — Shadow — Home — Jesus — Peace." 

She  seemed  free  from  pain.  Without  a 
struggle  she  lay  for  nearly  twenty  minutes, 
and  at  twelve  minutes  before  eight  o'clock 
her  head  gently  dropped  on  the  left  side  of 
her  pillow;  her  last  pulse  was  felt  by  the 
hand  of  her  anguished  husband,  and  her  dis- 
embodied spirit  soared  to  the  presence  of  her 
God. 

After  these  statements,  I  need  not  say  that 
this  was  a  highly  indulged  and  honoured 
death. 

But  it  is  also  a  mournful  one.  All  that  so 
eminently  fitted  her  for  heaven,  equally  fitted 
her  for  earth.  We  have  but  comparatively 
few  of  this  character.  Yet  these  are  the  per- 
sons we  want.  We  want  them,  for  they  are 
the  dew  of  heaven,  the  salt  of  the  earth,  the 
light  of  the  world.  We  want  them  as  inter- 
cessors, as  defenders,  as  benefactors,  as  ex- 
amples. Every  loss  therefore  will  draw  forth 
tears — and  must,  if  we  would  escape  the  re- 
proach of  insensibility  charged  upon  the 
Jews  ;  The  righteous  perisheth,  and  no  man 
layeth  it  to  heart ;  and  merciful  men  are  ta- 
ken away,  none  considering  that  the  right- 
eous is  taken  away  from  the  evil  to  come. 

Yes.  you  find  it  a  mournful  one,  O  ye  poor 
whom  she  succoured.  Yes,  you  find  it  a 
mournful  one,  O  ye  schools  of  charity  whom 
she  inspected.  Yes,  you  find  it  a  mourn- 
ful one,  O  ye  friends  with  whom  she  took 
sweet  counsel. — 

— But  what  shall  I  say  to  you,  my  dear,  my 
afflicted  brother ;  to  whom  God  has  said — Son 
of  man,  behold  I  take  from  thee  the  desire  of 
thine  eyes  with  a  stroke  ! 

What  shall  I  say  to  you,  ye  bereaved  chil- 
dren, whose  loss  at  present  you  are  unable  to 
estimate.  A  wife  may  be  replaced,  but  a 
mother  cannot.  As  one  whom  his  mother 
comforteth,  so  may  our  heavenly  Father  com- 
fort you.  May  he  take  you  up  as  the  God  of 
providence  and  of  grace  ;  guide  you  with  his 
counsel,  and  afterward  receive  you  to  glory. 

The  death  is  no  less  instructive.  It  says, 
in  feeling  accents, 

The  dear  delights  we  here  enjoy, 

And  fondly  call  our  own, 
Are  but  short  favours  borrowed  now, 

To  be  repaid  anon. 


CONSOLATION  IN  DEATH. 


223 


It  warns  us,  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we 
are  in  death.  It  urges  us  to  seek  the  Lord 
while  he  may  be  found,  and  to  call  upon  him 
while  he  is  near. 

So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we 
may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom. 

I  conclude  a  service  which  I  fear  would 
have  been  tedious,  had  not  the  saint  furnished 
more  than  the  preacher,  with  three  remarks. 

The  first  regards  the  efficiency  of  divine 
grace:  for,  by  the  grace  of  God,  she  was 
what  she  was  ;  and  we  ought  to  glorify  God 
in  her.  See  under  the  agency  of  this  princi- 
ple what  human  nature  even  in  this  world 
may  become! — And  since  this  grace  is  the 
same,  and  is  not  only  sufficient  for  us,  but  at- 
tainable by  us,  let  us  be  strong  in  it ;  let  us 
ask  that  we  may  have,  and  seek  that  we  may 
find. 

The  second  regards  the  impression  of  cha- 
racter. What  is  it  that  has  put  to  silence  the 
ignorance  of  foolish  men,  so  that  against  this 
child  of  Israel  not  a  dog  moves  his  tongue  ] 
What  is  it  that  prompts  the  language  of  la- 
mentation or  encomium  from  every  one  you 
converse  with  in  the  house,  or  meet  with  in 
the  street  7  What  is  it  that  has  induced  al- 
most every  member  in  this  church,  and  al- 
most every  hearer  in  this  meeting,  to  appear 
in  the  attire  of  mourners  1  What  has  this 
morning,  turned  this  place  of  worship  into  a 
Bochim,  or  place  of  tears  1  What  has  led  the 
ministers  and  congregations  of  this  town  vo- 
luntarily to  shut  up  their  own  sanctuaries,  and 
come  here  to  weep  with  those  that  weep] 
The  deceased  was  only  a  private  character — 
It  is  true  ^  but  she  was  a  decided  character. 
She  was  a  consistent  character.  She  was  an 
amiable  character.  She  was  an  inoffensive 
character.  She  was  a  benevolent  character. 
She  neither  lived  nor  died  to  herself;  and  he 
that  in  these  things  serveth  Christ,  is  accept- 
able to  God,  and  approved  of  men. 

The  third  regards  a  reflection,  which, 
though  it  be  often  made,  cannot  be  made  too 
often ;  and  which  the  subject  we  have  ex- 
plained, and  the  event  we  have  considered, 


alike  urge  upon  us — it  is  the  excellency  of 
genuine  religion.  It  does  not  indeed  exempt 
us  from  the  calamities  of  life  or  the  stroke  of 
death,  but  this  it  does:  it  prepares  us  for 
them ;  it  supports  us  under  them ;  it  turns  the 
curse  into  a  blessing ;  it  removes  the  fear  of 
evil ;  it  enables  us  to  dwell  at  ease  in  a  world 
of  changes  and  alarms ;  it  affords  us  comfort, 
even  in  death.  And  who  is  the  man  truly 
happy  1  Not  he  who  has  health,  but  he  who 
is  prepared  to  lose  it.  Not  he  who  has  a  por- 
tion on  earth ;  but  he  who  has  laid  up  trea- 
sure in  heaven.  He  it  is  who  can  look  for- 
ward without  dismay ;  he  it  is  who  can  pass 
an  hour  among  the  tombs  and  say — "  Hither 
I  hope  I  am  willing  to  come,  when  my  father 
shall  send  the  summons."  The  end  crowns 
the  action ;  and  the  proverb  tells  us  all  is 
well  that  ends  well.  I  am  far  from  allowing 
that  religion  has  no  present  claims  and  ad- 
vantages, for  it  has  the  promise  of  the  life 
that  now  is,  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to 
come — but  allowing  that  it  is,  what  many 
people  falsely  imagine  it  to  be,  a  system  of 
sacrifice  and  self-denial  only,  all  toil  and  all 
gloom ;  yet  it  has  this  unparalleled  recom- 
mendation— it  ends  well — it  ends  infinitely 
well ;  and  /  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this 
present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed.  Mark 
the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright;  for 
the  end  of  that  man  is  peace.  O  when  you 
come  to  finish  your  course,  to  be  able  to  say 
with  Jacob  ;  J  have  waited  for  thy  salvation, 
0  Lord !  When  the  body  is  falling  to  pieces 
to  be  able  to  say  with  Job  ;  I  know  that  my 
Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at 
the  latter  day  upon  the  earth.  And  though 
after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet 
in  my  fesh  shall  I  see  God.  With  Simeon 
to  be  raised  above  the  love  of  life,  and  the 
fear  of  death,  and  to  be  able  to  say,  Lord  now 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  ac- 
cording to  thy  word,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation. — What  can  you  wish  for  like 
this  ! — Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his !  Amen. 


THE  LOSS  OF  CONNEXIONS  DEPLORED  AND  IMPROVED : 

A  SERMON 

PREACHED  IN  ARGYLE  CHAPEL,  BATH,  ON  SUNDAY  MORNING,  SEPTEMBER  26,  1813, 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF 

MR.  THOMAS  PARSONS, 

Who  Died  the  18th  of  September,  in  the  10th  Year  of  his  Age. 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 

TO  THE  BEREAVED  FAMILY  OF  HIS  HIGHLY  ESTEEMED  FRIEND, 
This  Sermon,  preached  to  improve  the  death  of  their  honoured  father,  and 
published  at  their  request,  is  dedicated,  with  esteem,  affection,  and  sympa- 
thy, by  The  Author. 


Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from 
me,  and  mine  acquaintance  into  darkness. — 
Psalm  Ixxxviii.  18. 

My  brethren, — We  were  obviously  de- 
signed to  live  not  in  a  solitary,  but  a  connect- 
ed state.  Even  in  Paradise,  and  according 
to  the  judgment  of  God  himself,  "It  was  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone."  Our  nature  and 
condition,  our  inclinations  and  necessities, 
our  excellencies  and  weaknesses,  alike  indi- 
cate our  destination,  and  contribute  to  render 
us  social  beings. 

Some  of  the  finest  feelings  of  the  human 
heart  are  called  forth  by  the  various  unions 
of  life,  and  much  of  our  happiness  depends 
upon  the  endearments  of  society. 

But  what  blessing  below  the  skies,  is  per- 
fect and  unalloyed  ]  Every  pleasure  has  its 
corresponding  pain.  The  wider  our  sphere 
of  action,  the  more  varied  our  interests,  and 
the  keener  our  sensibility ;  the  better  mark 
are  we  for  the  arrows  of  disappointment.  Our 
losses  arise,  and  can  only  arise,  from  our  pos- 
sessions. Our  affections  produce  our  dis- 
tresses and  our  tears. 

"Our  roses  grow  on  thorns, 
And  our  honey  wears  a  sting. 

So  that,  from  the  sober  estimate  of  reason,  as 
well  as  the  hasty  feelings  of  passion,  we  be- 


I  gin,  at  length,  to  acknowledge  the  mortify- 
ing truth ;  "  All  is  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit." 

But  none  of  our  comforts  are  more  heavily 
taxed  than  our  social.  Our  connexions  often 
make  us  weep;  and  they  do  this,  three 
ways. 

First ;  We  weep  for  them.  Jeremiah  said 
of  some  of  his  hearers,  "  My  soul  shall  weep 
in  secret  places  for  your  pride."  There  are 
frequently  things  in  our  dearest  friends,  that 
we  long  to  rectify  or  remove.  We  hint  our 
minds;  we  admonish;  we  beseech;  but  in 
vain :  and  nothing  is  left,  but  to  grieve — that 
a  freckle  should  injure  a  fair  moral  visage  ; 
that  occasional  imprudence  should  defeat 
talent  and  excellency ;  that  a  peculiarity  of 
temper  should  hinder  the  display  or  the  im- 
pression of  principle ;  and  that  where  there 
is  so  much  to  extol,  there  should  be  any  thing 
to  extenuate. 

Secondly ;  We  weep  with  them.  In  pro- 
portion as  we  love  another  we  necessarily 
sympathize  with  him  ;  we  make  his  grief  as 
well  as  gladness  our  own ;  we  launch  in  the 
same  vessel,  and  partake  of  the  storm  as  well 
as  the  breeze  together. 

Lastly ;  We  weep  over  them :  for  none  of 
them  are  durable ;  and  as  they  are  seccessive- 
ly  withdrawn  from  us,  the  world  grows 
234 


THE  LOSS  OF  CONNEXIONS,  &c. 


225 


dreary,  and  the  "desolate  heart"  cries, 
"  Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far 
from  me,  and  mine  acquaintance  into 
darkness." 

Let  me  remark— The  connexions  which 
give  a  charm  to  life — consider,  the  loss  of 
them — trace,  The  agency  of  God  in  their  re- 
moval— teach  you,  How  to  improve  such 
dispensations  of  Providence — and  introduce 
a  tribute  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  our  late 
and  esteemed  fellow-worshipper,  Mr.  Thomas 
Parsons. 

t  Let  me  remark,  The  connexions  which 
give  a  charm  to  life.  David  mentions  three; 
Lover,  Friend,  and  Acquaintance. 

First ;  "  Lover."  As  this  is  distinguished 
from  Friend  and  Acquaintance,  it  stands  for 
the  tender  relative.  By  nothing  is  such  a 
connexion  so  properly  characterized  as  af- 
fection;  for  love  in  kindred  is  considered 
natural  and  unavoidable;  it  is  in  a  great 
measure  instinctive ;  and  it  is  also  fanned 
and  fed  by  sameness  of  residence,  constancy 
of  intercourse,  and  mutual  interests,  atten- 
tions, and  obligations.  "Lover,"  therefore, 
recalls  to  mind,  The  Husband :  the  Wife :  the 
Father:  the  Mother:  the  Child:  the  Brother: 
the  Sister,  and  other  dear  ties  of  flesh  and 
blood.  . 

Secondly  ;  He  mentions  "  Friend."  This 
is  a  sacred  name,  which  many  usurp,  and 
few  deserve.  It  cannot  be  applied  to  the 
confederate  in  sin;  or,  to  the  mercenary, 
selfish  wretch,  that  loves  you,  because  he 
wants  to  make  use  of  you,  as  a  builder  values 
a  ladder,  or  a  passenger  a  boat.  Friendship 
is  founded  in  a  community  of  heart.  It  sup- 
poses some  strong  congeniality,  yet  admits 
of  great  diversity.  Ofall  the  twelve  apostles, 
Peter  and  John  seem  to  have  been  the  most 
attached  to  each  other-;  and  yet  who  can  help 
supposing  a  considerable  difference  in  some 
of  their  attributes'!  The  one  was  more  for- 
ward, the  other  more  reserved ;  the  one  more 
bold,  the  other  more  timid;  the  one  more 
severe,  the  other  more  soft  and  gentle ;  the 
one  a  hand,  the  other  an  eye ;  yet  they  were 
"  of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul." 

We  may  be  assured  that  these  amities, 
which  enter  so  much  into  our  present  wel- 
fare and  enjoyment,  and  which,  continuing 
to  flow  with  an  even,  or  increasing  current, 
through  so  many  years  and  changes,  fertilize 
and  adorn  the  vale  of  life,  are  peculiarly 
designed  and  formed  by  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther, who  is  said  so  often  in  the  Scripture,  to 
give  a  man  favour  in  the  eyes  of  another. 
But,  with  regard  to  ourselves,  some  of  the 
choicest  friendships  are  accidentally  pro- 
duced. We  thought  not  of  the  connexion 
the  day,  the  hour  before :  perhaps  we  travel- 
ed the  same  road ;  or  we  met  in  some  mixed 
company ;  or  we  received,  or  we  administer- 
ed some  token  of  kindness — and  from  such  a 
small  seed  blown  by  the  wind,  sprang  up  this 
2F 


heavenly  tree,  under  the  shadow  of  whose 
brandies  we  have  been  so  often  refreshed. 

Thirdly.  David  speaks  of  the  loss  of  "  Ac- 
quaintance." Acquaintances  are  distinguish- 
ed from  friends.  The  former  may  be  numer- 
ous ;  the  latter  must  be  limited.  The  one  is 
for  the  parlour,  the  other  is  for  the  closet. 
We  give  the  hand  to  the  one,  we  reserve 
the  bosom  for  the  other.  We  go  to  the  one 
with  a  smiling  countenance,  we  repair  to  the 
other  in  a  cloudy  and  dark  day,  and  when 
we  have  a  burden  too  heavy  for  us  to  bear. 
Yet  though  acquaintances  are  inferior  to 
friends,  they  are  not  without  their  importance, 
and  add  much  to  our  accommodation  and 
pleasure.  Such  are  the  agreeable  connex- 
ions of  life,  the  loss  of  which  we 

II.  Proceed  to  consider.  "  Lover  and 
friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me,  and  mine 
acquaintance  into  darkness."  There  are  two 
ways  by  which  we  may  be  deprived  of  our 
connexions. 

The  first  is  by  desertion.  The  highest 
degree  of  this  crime,  is  the  want  of  natural 
affection.  And  yet  husbands  have  hated 
their  own  fle'sh  instead  of  nourishing  and 
cherishing  it.  Fathers  have  not  provided  for 
those  of  their  own  house,  but  have  left  them 
to  ignorance  and  want.  "  Can  a  woman  for- 
get her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not 
have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  7 
She  may."  Savage's  mother  is  not  the  only 
one,  that  has  abhorred  and  persecuted  the 
offspring  of  her  own  bowels. 

Perfidy  is  a  vile  thing,  but  not  a  very  rare 
one.  How  many  kiss  in  order  to  betray ;  and 
gain  your  confidence,  to  sting  when  you  are 
lulled  to  sleep.  A  brother  is  born  for  adver- 
sity ;  but  the  very  season  in  which  we  need 
his  assistance  and  kindness,  is  commonly  the 
hour  of  abandonment :  and  the  heart  aghast 
with  surprise  and  grief,  groans  "  Ahithophel 
is  among  the  conspirators  with  Absalom:" 
"  It  was  not  an  enemy  that  reproached  me : 
then  I  could  have  borne  it ;  neither  was  it  he 
that  hated  me,  that  did  magnify  himself 
against  me ;  then  I  would  have  hid  myself 
from  him :  but  it  was  thou,  a  man,  mine  equal, 
my  guide,  and  mine  acquaintance :  we  took 
sweet  counsel  together,  and  went  to  the  house 
of  God  in  company." 

Sometimes  weakness  rather  than  wicked- 
ness robs  us.  Job's  friends  condemned  him 
because  they  misunderstood  his  character: 
when  they  were  undeceived,  they  returned 
to  him  with  presents.  "At  my  first  answer," 
says  Paul,  "  no  man  stood  by  me;"  they  were 
panic  struck  and  fled ,  and  he  only  prays  that 
it  might  not  be  laid  to  their  charge. 

Men  are  often  called  into  distant  situations, 
where  they  necessarily  feel  new  impressions, 
and  are  engrossed  with  new  engagements : 
and  thus  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  and 
where  no  blame  attaches,  we  must  reckon 
upon  some  social  losses.    To  which  we  may 


226 


THE  LOSS  OF  CONNEXIONS 


add,  That  sometimes,  where  censure  is  de- 
served, the  fault  appertains  to  those  who  com- 
plain and  upbraid :  they  themselves  having 
been  unamiable,  inattentive,  unkind.  "He 
that  will  have  friends  must  show  himself 
friendly." 

The  second  way  of  losing  our  connexions 
is  by  bereavement.  This  is  principally,  if 
not  exclusively  here  intended :  "  Lover  and 
friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me ;  and  mine 
acquaintance  into  darkness;'1''  that  is,  they 
are  lodged  in  the  gloomy  grave,  "  The  land 
of  darkness,  and  the  shadow  of  death ;  a  land 
of  darkness,  as  darkness  itself ;  and  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  without  any  order,  and 
where  the  light  is  as  darkness." 

What  the  apostle  says  of  the  Jewish 
priests  is  applicable  to  all  our  connexions: 
"  They  are  not  suffered  to  continue  by  rea- 
son of  death."  The  greatness  of  the  afflic- 
tion occasioned  by  their  removal,  it  is  not 
easy  to  describe. — Several  things  add  poign- 
ancy to  the  loss. 

First ;  They  are  of  great  importance  to  us 
here.  In  some  cases,  the  bereaved  are  de- 
prived of  worldly  support.  The  widow  is 
called  down  from  elegance  and  ease,  to  strug- 
gle with  hardship  and  distress ;  the  children 
lose  the  caresses  of  the  neighbourhood,  and 
are  exposed  to  insult ;  perhaps  they  become 
vagabonds,  and  learn  to  beg  their  bread. 
How  much  depends  often  upon  a  single  indi- 
vidual !  Great  and  little  are  comparative. 
What  a  slender  aid  will  render  one  a  bene- 
factor, and  another  a  beneficiary  anxious  for 
his  life !  One  day  at  a  funeral,  turning  away 
from  the  mouth  of  the  grave,  I  saw  an  aged 
female  weeping.  Her  left  hand  held  a 
grandchild;  with  her  right  she  raised  the 
corner  of  her  woollen  apron  to  wipe  the  tears 
that  ran  down  her  furrowed  cheek.  "  What, 
said  I,  have  you  lost  a  friend]"  "O  Sir, 
that  good  woman,  allowed  me  a  shilling  a 
week."  "  My  God,"  said  I,  as  soon  as  I  was 
withdrawn  a  little,  "  And  can  the  application 
of  so  small  a  sum,  so  deeply  interest  the  feel- 
ings, and  so  essentially  promote  the  comfort 
of  a  fellow-creature  1  Who  would  waste  a 
farthing;  who  would  not  economize;  who 
would  not  deny  himself,  to  be  able  to  do 
good?" 

By  the  removal  of  our  connexions  we  are 
deprived  of  their  company.  They  no  longer 
beguile  the  social  hours  and  the  social  walk. 
The  eye  that  beamed  kindness  is  sealed  up 
in  darkness,  and  the  tongue  that  charmed  us 
is  dumb  for  ever. 

We  are  deprived  of  their  example.  We 
are  deprived  of  their  reproofs.  We  are  de- 
prived of  their  counsels.  We  ai'e  deprived 
of  their  prayers.    What  a  loss  is  here ! 

Secondly.  We  cannot  recall  them.  We 
were  sometimes  separated  before,  but  the 
absence  from  each  otlmr  was  partial  and  tran- 
sient.   When,  they  left  us  in  the  evening,  it 


was  that  they  might  take  rest  in  sleep :  the 
morning  restored  the  circle.  But  "man 
lieth  down  and  riseth  not  till  the  heavens  be 
no  more,  they  shall  not  awake  nor  be  raised 
out  of  their  sleep."  When  they  journeyed, 
it  was  to  revisit  their  abode  again,  and  the 
expectation  of  meeting,  relieved  the  tear  at 
parting.  But  they  are  now  "  gone  the  way 
whence  they  shall  not  return." 

Thirdly.  We  can  have  no  intercourse  or 
correspondence  with  them.  If  you  have 
friends  in  America,  or  the  East  Indies,  it  is 
possible  for  you  to  commune  with  them  still, 
by  messengers,  or  writing.  But  who  can 
tell  what  regions  of  space  separate  between 
us,  and  our  departed  connexions !  Who  can 
tell  in  what  part  of  his  vast  universe  they  are 
placed ;  for  in  our  "  Father's  house  are  many 
mansions !" — We  can  receive  no  intelligence 
from  them,  and  they  can  receive  none  from 
us.  "  His  sons  come  to  honour,  and  he  know- 
eth  it  not,  and  they  are  brought  low,  but  he 
perceiveth  it  not  of  them."  "Abraham  is 
ignorant  of  us,  and  Israel  acknowledges  us 
not."  "  Also  their  love  and  their  hatred,  and 
their  envy  is  now  perished;  neither  have 
they  any  more  a  portion  for  ever  in  any  thing 
that  is  done  under  the  sun." 

Hence,  Fourthly.  They  cannqt  promote 
our  welfare  where  they  now  are.  If  our 
friends  by  dying,  increase  their  knowledge, 
and  learn  that  the  state  they  left  us  in,  is  a 
state  of  religious  delusion;  they  cannot  rec- 
tify our  mistake,  or  send  to  warn  us  of  our 
danger.  They  have  left  us,  with  Moses  and 
the  Prophets.  Elijah,  in  his  last  walk  with 
Elisha,  was  convinced  that  his  usefulness  to 
his  successor  was  restricted  to  this  life ;  and 
therefore  he  said,  "  Ask  now  what  I  shall  do 
for  thee  before  I  be  taken  away  from  thee." 
This  is  a  solemn  reflection  for  the  living,  and 
it  should  operate  as  a  constant  stimulus. 
With  what  diligence  should  we  do  the  work 
of  him  that  sent  us  while  it  is  day ;  for  the 
night  cometh  wherein  no  man  can  work." 

III.  Let  us  trace  the  agency  of  God  in 
their  removal :  "  Lover  and  friend  hast  Thou 
put  far  from  me,  and  mine  acquaintance  into 
darkness." 

In  the  experience  of  the  believer,  the 
work  and  the  enjoyment  of  heaven  are  begun 
on  earth.  We  read,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure 
in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God."  This  is  the 
representation  of  their  employment,  and  their 
blessedness.  They  shall  see  God  !  They 
shall  see  him  completely.  They  shall  see 
him  only.  Though  ten  thousand  objects  will 
be  there,  nothing  will  be  seen  but  God. 
There  are  angels,  but  they  are  his  servants. 
There  are  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect, 
but  they  are  his  jewels.  There  will  be  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth,  but  they  are  his 
throne  and  his  footstool.  Thus  every  thing 
will  only  serve  to  reflect  or  proclaim  God ; 
and  according  to  the  sublime  sentiment  of 


DEPLORED  AND  IMPROVED. 


227 


the  apostle,  "  God  will  be  all  in  all."  But 
the  believer  sees  him  now.  While  others 
live  without  God  in  the  world,  and  God  is  not 
in  all  their  thoughts,  he  sees  him  in  his  word ; 
sees  him  in  his  house ;  sees  him  in  his  works, 
and  in  his  ways ;  sees  him  in  all  occurrences 
and  events.  He  sees  him  in  the  garden,  and 
in  the  field ;  sees  him  in  the  rose  and  in  the 
corn ;  sees  him  in  the  sun  and  in  the  glow- 
worm. "  The  day  is  thine,"  says  he,  "  the 
night  also  is  thine.  Thou  hast  made  sum- 
mer and  winter.  Thou  makest  the  outgoings 
of  the  morning  and  evening  to  rejoice.  Thou 
visitest  the  earth,  and  waterest  it.  Thou 
makest  it  soft  with  showers.  Thou  blessest 
the  springing  thereof.  Thou  crownest  the 
year  with  thy  goodness ;  and  thy  paths  drop 
down  fatness." 

If  light  attends  the  course  I  run, 

'Tis  he  provides  those  rays, 
And  'tis  his  hand  that  hides  my  sun, 

If  darkness  veils  my  days. 

"  O,"  says  one,  when  any  evil  befalls  him, 
"  it  was  that  unlucky  accident ;  it  was  that 
unfaithful  friend ;  it  was  that  malicious  foe  ; 
it  was  that  careless  servant :"  but  when  the 
news  of  an  awful  judgment  reached  Eli,  he 
said,  "  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what  seem- 
eth  him  good."  When  Job  heard  that  the 
Sabeans  and  the  Chaldeans,  and  the  elements 
had  robbed  him  of  his  substance,  his  servants, 
and  his  children,  he  said,  "  The  Lord  gave 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away."  The  death 
of  Christ,  was  "  the  hour  and  power  of  dark- 
ness." It  was  Judas  that  betrayed  him ;  it 
was  Peter  that  denied  him;  it  was  Pilate 
that  condemned  him ;  they  were  the  Jews 
and  the  Romans  that  crucified  him — but  he 
saw  neither  of  them :  he  only  eyed  God — 
"  The  cup  which  my  father  hath  given  me 
shall  I  not  drink  it  1"  And  so  David  in  his 
relative  losses ;  he  does  not  say,  "  It  was  that 
unskilful  physician  :  it  was  that  fatal  delay  ; 
it  was  that  improper  medicine ;"  he  only 
thinks  and  speaks  of  God :  "  Lover  and  friend 
hast  Thou  put  far  from  me,  and  mine  ac- 
quaintance into  darkness." 

The  Scripture  abundantly  confirms  this 
pious  and  consoling  sentiment.  It  assures  us 
that  every  thing,  however  minute  or  casual, 
is  providential.  "  It  tells  us  that  a  sparrow 
falls  not  to  the  ground  without  our  heavenly 
Father  :  and  that  the  very  hairs  of  our  head 
are  all  numbered."  It  asks,  "  Is  there  an 
evil  in  the  city,  and  the  Lord  hatli  not  done 
it!"  It  represents  Jehovah  as  saying,  "I 
create  peace,  and  I  make  trouble.  I  wound, 
and  1  heal ;  I  kill,  and  I  make  alive." 

If  therefore  you  have  been  deprived  of  your 
interesting  connexions,  remember  that  He 
has  done  it.    He  has  done  it — 

— Who  is  almighty  and  irresistible :  "  He 
taketh  away,  and  who  can  hinder  him,  or 
say  unto  him,  What  doest  thou ;"  He  has  done 
it— 


— Who  had  a  right  to  do  it.  If  they  were 
your  friends,  they  were  his  creatures  and 
servants:  and  was  he  obliged  to  ask  your 
permission,  to  do  what  he  would  with  his 
own  1    He  has  done  it — 

— Who  was  too  wise  to  err,  and  too  kind 
to  injure  in  doing  it.  For,  my  brethren, 
while  we  allow  that  God  in  such  dealings  is 
sovereign,  we  deny  that  he  is  ever  arbitrary. 
He  often  indeed  "  giveth  no  account  of  any 
of  his  matters;"  and  the  reasons  which  go- 
vern him  are  commonly  far  above  out  of  our 
sight,  so  that  he  frequently  appears  to  act 
from  his  pleasure  only  :  but  he  has  reasons ; 
he  always  has  motives  of  preference,  which 
would  more  than  justify  him  were  they  fully 
known.  Our  Saviour,  therefore,  does  not 
refer  to  his  will,  but  to  his  wisdom ;  "  Yea,  O 
Father,  for — so  thou  wouldest  1"  no — but, "  so 
it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight,"  and  what  seems 
good  to  him,  must  be  really  good.  We  may 
be  imposed  upon,  but  he  is  not  mocked. 
"  We  know  that  the  judgment  of  God  is  al- 
ways according  to  truth." 

We  may  also  be  very  imperfect  judges  of 
our  own  welfare ;  and  not  be  able  to  see  how 
certain  events  can  ever  befriend  us  :  but,  says 
the  apostle,  "  We  know  that  all  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God." 
And  again :  "  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he 
chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom 
he  receiveth."  This  is  the  proper  view  we 
are  to  take  of  our  afflictions.  They  are  the 
result  of  divine  goodness.  They  are  the  dis- 
cipline of  a  father.  They  are  the  primings 
of  a  husbandman,  to  insure  better  fruit.  They 
are  the  ploughing  of  the  fallow  ground,  to 
prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  the  seed.  They 
are  the  refinings  of  the  furnace,  that  when 
we  are  tried  we  may  come  forth  as  gold. — 
This  brings  us 

FV.  To  teach  you,  How  to  improve  such 
dispensations  of  Providence.  And  here  let 
me  observe,  that  we  should  improve  them  in 
a  way  of  sympathy  ;  in  a  way  of  gratitude ; 
in  a  way  of  precaution ;  and  in  a  way  of  re- 
signation. 

First ;  We  should  improve  them  in  a  way 
of  sympathy.  Let  us  always  feel  tenderly 
for  those  who  have  been  bereaved.  They 
need  it.  Every  circumstance  in  their  situa- 
tion cries,  "  Pity  me,  pity  me,  O  ye  my 
friends,  for  the  hand  of  God  hath  touched  me." 
Are  we  not  commanded  "  to  be  pitiful ;"  to 
"  bear  one  another's  burdens ;"  to  "  strengthen 
the  weak  hands  and  confirm  the  feeble  knees?" 
Let  us  suppose  our  friends  removed.  Let  us 
imagine  ourselves — waking  in  the  dead  of 
night — rising  in  the  morning — going  from 
room  to  room — meeting  with  the  books  they 
folded  down — sitting  at  table,  where  David's 
seat  is  empty — kneeling  without  them  at 
the  family  altar — stripped — divided — torn  to 
pieces ;  let  us  place  our  souls  in  their  souls' 
stead — that  we  may  not  be  severe  to  mark 


228 


THE  LOSS  OF  CONNEXIONS 


what  they  do  amiss  under  such  a  pressure  of 
anguish — that  we  may  pray  for  them — that 
we  may  assist  them — that  we  may  soothe 
them — and  gain  the  character  Job  had  de- 
served, "  as  one  that  comforteth  the  mourn- 
ers." 

Secondly ;  We  should  improve  such  dis- 
pensations, in  a  way  of  gratitude.  Is  not 
the  affliction  which  we  have  pourtrayed 
your  own?  Have  you  not  been  visited  with 
breach  upon  breach  !  And  who  has  kept 
your  house  from  becoming  a  house  of  mourn- 
ing ?  Who  has  preserved  from  year  to  year, 
your  connexions  ?  Who  has  relatives  down 
to  the  very  gates  of  the  grave,  guarded  them 
in  the  dangerous  path  of  life,  from  every  ac- 
cident and  disease  ? — Some  of  you  have  fol- 
lowed your  beloved  friends  and  stood  weeping 
and  trembling  behind  them.  With  what  joy 
did  you  hear  the  sentence  "  Return  ye  chil- 
dren of  men  ;"  with  what  pleasure  did  you 
walk  back  with  them :  with  what  zeal  for  the 
time,  did  you  resolve  to  serve  him  who  had 
"  performed  all  things  for  you !"  Has  the  | 
sense  of  your  obligations  continued  ?  Where 
are  the  effects  and  the  proofs  of  it  ?  Have 
you  rendered  according  to  the  benefit  done 
you  ?  If  a  person  had  preserved  a  dear  con- 
nexion, in  whom  your  happiness  was  bound 
up,  from  the  sword  of  an  assassin ;  you  would 
feel  indebted  to  him  through  life  :  and  if  you 
neglected  him,  every  one  would  be  ready  to 
shun  you.  Yea,  and  this  has  been  the  case, 
if  a  fond  and  faithful  animal  had  rescued  a 
husband,  or  a  child  from  a  watery  grave,  even 
the  poor  dumb  deliverer  would  have  retained 
your  regard.  Yes— the  instrument  is  to  be 
acknowledged,  while  the  agent  is  to  be  dis- 
owned ;  the  creature — a  man — a  dog ! — ought 
to  be  remembered  ;  it  is  only  God  that  is  to  be 
forgotten.  He  who  is  "  The  preserver  of 
men."  He  "  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and 
have  our  being."  O  weep,  weep,  over  your 
vile,  your  wretched  unthankfulness ;  and 
hourly  ask ;  ask  every  moment ;  "  What  shall 
I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  to- 
wards me  ?" 

Thirdly ;  We  should  improve  such  dispen- 
sations, in  a  way  of  precaution.    We  should 
hold  our  connexions  with  a  loose  hand,  and  be 
prepared  for  the  removal  of  them  when  the 
summons  comes.    Whence  arises  the  an- 
guish of  affliction'!    From  disappointment. 
From  what  does  disappointment  arise  ?  From 
high  expectations.    Who  is  to  blame  for  the  i 
indulgence  of  high  expectations? — Where 
are  we  now  !  Alas  !  We  do  not  believe  that 
our  friends  are  mortal.    We  are  so  attached  1 
to  them  that  we  cannot  bear  to  realize  the  i 
thoughts  of  separation.    We  forget  the  brief,  i 
the  precarious  term  on  which  we  take  them. 
We  consider  that  to  be  given,  which  is  only  1 
lent.    Hence  at  last,  when  the  event  befalls  l 
us,  it  kills  us  by  surprise.  But  who  is  charge-  1 
able  with  this  surprise?    Not  he,  who  has 


said,  "  Arise  and  depart  hence,  for  this  is  not 
your  rest."  Not  he,  who  in  so  many  ways 
has  said  "  Cease  from  man  whose  breath  is  in 
his  nostrils  ;  for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted 
of."  Not  he,  who  says  "  Time  is  short,  it 
remains  therefore  that  both  they  that  have 
wives  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  and  they 
that  weep  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they 
that  rejoice  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and 
they  that  buy  as  though  they  possessed  not ; 
and  they  that  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  it ; 
for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away." 

Lastly ;  We  should  improve  bereaving 
events :  in  a  way  of  resignation.  It  is  too 
common  for  persons,  when  they  would  con- 
sole the  bereaved,  to  endeavour  to  diminish  a 
sense  of  the  greatness  of  their  loss.  But  the 
afflicted  will  be  sure  to  reject  such  consola- 
tion as  this.  Their  very  esteem  and  affection 
will  lead  them  to  revolt  at  it.  Neither  is 
such  a  mode  necessary,  or  proper :  it  is  not  a 
scriptural  mode.  There  is  no  grace  in  bear- 
ing what  we  do  not  feel :  nor  can  we  resign 
I  what  we  do  not  value.  I  would  rather  say  to 
the  afflicted,  Your  case  is  trying. — 

But  you  have  heard  that  the  hand  of  God 
is  in  it ;  and  by  this  consideration,  David  was 
silenced ;  "  I  was  dumb ;  I  opened  not  my 
mouth  ;  because  thou  didst  it."  Your  case  is 
trying— 

But  it  is  not  peculiar.  Thousands  are  now 
mourning;  and  mourning  in  a  condition  far 
worse  than  your's.  Your  connexions  are  re- 
moved— 

But  perhaps  they  are  taken  away  from  the 
evil  to  come.  Perhaps  that  child,  whose 
death  cost  you  so  many  tears,  would,  if  he 
had  lived,  have  broken  your  heart.  Perhaps 
that  Christian  friend  who  departed  with  so  fair 
a  memory,  would,  had  he  continued  longer, 
have  been  drawn  aside  by  temptation,  and 
have  disgraced  his  profession.  Perhaps  that 
beloved  relative,  might  have  been  rendered  a 
sufferer  for  life,  and  you  have  been  the  worn- 
out  spectator  of  the  pain  and  anguish,  which 
you  could  not  even  relieve.  It  is  certain  that 
if  they  were  the  followers  of  Jesus,  by  re- 
maining here,  they  would  have  been  still  at 
sea ;  but  they  have  now  entered  the  desired 
haven  :  they  would  have  been  still  at  war  ; 
but  now  their  warfare  is  accomplished.  They 
are  removed — 

But  the  change  is  infinitely  to  their  advan- 
tage. It  is  a  deliverance :  an  advancement  : 
a  consummation.  If  absent  from  the  body, 
they  are  present  with  the  Lord.  They  have 
reached  all  that  they  valued  and  toiled  after 
here.  And  therefore  pause  before  you  say — 
and  actions  can  speak ; — "  I  am  sorry,  they 
are  released  from  prison ;  I  am  sorry,  they 
will  no  more  say,  I  am  sick ;  I  am  sorry,  they 
behold  his  face  in  righteousness,  and  are  sa- 
tisfied." If  you  loved  them,  you  would  rejoice 
because  they  said,  We  go  unto  the  Father. 
They  are  removed — 


DEPLORED  AND  IMPROVED. 


229 


But  you  are  going  after,  and  will  join  them 
again.  The  separation  is  but  temporary.  If 
life  be  short,  your  want  of  them  cannot  be 
long.    They  are  removed — 

But  their  departure  has  rendered  this  earth, 
which  we  must  leave,  less  attractive;  and 
placed  more  allurement  beyond  the  skies,  and 
our  conversation  ought  to  be  in  heaven.  Fi- 
nally :  if  lover,  friend,  and  acquaintance  are 
gone — 

God  is  not.  He  is  near  you.  He  is  with 
you.  He  has  said  "  I  will  never  leave  thee 
nor  forsake  thee."  He  is  a  very  present  help 
in  trouble.  He  can  sanctify  every  loss.  He 
can  more  than  repair  it.  He  has  supports  and 
compensations  that  can  enable  you  even  to 
glory  in  tribulation.  You  may  therefore  say 
with  the  Saviour,  "  I  am  left  alone  and  yet  I 
am  not  alone,  because  the  Father  is  with 
me." 

My  bereaved  hearers,  you  who  have  lost 
an  agreeable  and  instructive  acquaintance  ; 
you  who  have  lost  a  delightful  and  edifying 
friend;  and  especially  you,  who  have  lost  a 
tender,  honoured,  and  invaluable  parent ;  in 
addressing  the  afflicted,  you  will  consider  me 
as  having  peculiarly  addressed  you.  "  Where- 
fore comfort  one  another  with  these  words." 
Indeed  the  whole  course  of  our  meditation 
has  been  so  applicable  to  the  providence  we 
are  reviewing,  that  little  remains  to  be  said, 
especially  as  the  design  of  funeral  notices 
should  be  to  impress  the  living,  rather  than 
to  eulogize  the  dead. 

To  characterize  at  all,  or  to  characterize 
justly,  is  not,  in  many  cases,  an  easy  thing. 
Some  individuals  run  into  the  mass  of  same- 
ness, and  no  peculiar  feature  can  be  seized  by 
which  to  distinguish  them.  Others  have  a 
singularity  of  attributes  and  actions,  upon 
which  it  may  not  be  always  proper  to  pro- 
nounce, and  concerning  which,  people  will 
decide  according  to  their  respective  views 
and  feelings. 

The  original  character  that  comes  before 
us  this  morning,  has  given  rise  to  a  great  di- 
versity, and  a  great  uniformity  of  opinion  : 
but  the  uniformity  of  conviction  embraces 
what  is  truly  excellent  and  praiseworthy, 
while  the  diversity  regards  only  what  is  less 
important.  I  feel  the  difficulty  of  the  delinea- 
tion on  which  I  am  entering,  but  by  the 
grace  of  God  I  shall  speak  without  flattery, 
and  without  fear. 

Mr.  Thomas  Parsons  was  the  only  son  of 
the  late  venerable  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church 
in  this  city.  He  received  a  good,  though  not 
a  learned  education;  and  early  discovered 
very  superior  powers  of  mind,  which  he  con- 
stantly cultivated  by  reading  and  exercise. 
His  acquaintance  with  science  at  large  was 
very  considerable.  His  talents  were  indeed 
sufficient  to  have  rendered  him  illustrious  in 
any  one  department  of  knowledge ;  but  in- 
stead of  concentrating  his  attention  andappli- 
20 


cation  to  a  single  subject,  he  diffused  them 
over  an  extensive  surface  ;  and  thus  gained 
general  information,  rather  than  remarkable 
pre-eminence  in  any  one  particular  branch. 
His  proficiency,  however,  in  sculpture,  draw- 
ing, mineralogy,  chemistry,  astronomy,  and 
moral  philosophy,  was  by  no  means  common. 

His  apprehension  was  distinguished  by  a 
peculiar  quickness  and  clearness.  He  seemed 
to  know  intuitively  every  subject  that  came 
before  him ;  and  he  was  able  to  express  him- 
self concerning  it,  with  the  most  happy  pre- 
cision and  ease. 

No  one  was  ever  so  little  inclined  to  take 
any  thing  on  trust,  or  so  little  in  danger  of 
becoming  the  slave  of  prerogative  and  au- 
thority. 

As  a  reader,  he  accustomed  himself  to 
write  a  critique  on  the  work  he  was  perusing; 
and  it  commonly  leaned  to  the  side  of  cen- 
sure ;  for  he  had  a  singular  sagacity  in  de- 
tecting errors  and  mistakes  which  others 
overlooked. 

An  opinion  has  generally  prevailed,  that 
as  a  hearer,  our  friend  did  not  exercise  his 
great  censorial  abilities  very  tenderly,  in 
consequence  of  which,  many  dreaded  to 
preach  before  him.  But  this  charge  must  be 
taken  with  very  considerable  qualification. 
He  lothed  indeed  every  thing  that  bordered 
on  the  spiritual  coxcomb;  and  scrupled  not 
to  make  free  with  inflated  academicians,  and 
all  those  who,  by  their  confident  and  self- 
ceited  manner,  seemed  more  than  satisfied 
with  their  own  performances,  and  defied 
rather  than  deprecated  criticism.  But  he 
always  esteemed  grace  more  than  talent. 
He  often  remarked,  that  Stirling  and  elevated 
piety,  in  the  simplest  character,  is  far  supe- 
rior to  the  finest  intellect,  and  the  most  ex- 
tensive acquirements  unassociated  with  the 
fear  of  God.  The  man  who  was  "serious  in 
a  serious  cause  ;"  whose  aim  appeared  to  be 
only  usefulness ;  who  was  not  aping  any  one ; 
nor  attempting  things  beyond  his  reach ;  and 
who  did  not  dogmatize  and  condemn  others ; 
however  humble  his  claims,  was  not  likely  to 
miss  his  approbation.  I  have  often  heard 
him  observe,  of  what  importance  it  was  to 
bring  the  affections  into  exercise  in  public 
performances;  expressing  also  his  conviction, 
that  an  obvious  solicitude  in  a  preacher  to  do 
good,  had  contributed  more  to  his  usefulness, 
than  any  one  quality  besides.  In  a  word,  he 
only  acted  in  prose  what  Cowper  has  ex- 
pressed in  poetry : 

In  man  or  woman,  but  far  most  in  man, 
And  most  of  all  in  man  that  ministers 
And  serves  the  altar,  in  my  soul  I  loth 
All  affectation.    'Tis  my  perfect  scorn ; 
Object  of  my  implacable  disgust. 
What!— will  a  man  play  tricks,  will  he  indulge 
A  silly  fond  conceit  of  his  fair  form, 
And  just  proportion,  fashionable  mien, 
And  pretty  face,  in  presence  of  his  God  1 
Or,  will  he  seek  to  dazzle  me  with  tropes, 
As  with  the  diamond  on  his  lily  hand, 
And  play  his  brilliant  parts  before  mine  eyes, 


230 


THE  LOSS  OF  CONNEXIONS 


When  I  am  hungry  for  the  bread  of  life  ? 

****** 
— Therefore  avaunt  all  attitude,  and  stare, 
And  start  theatric,  practis'd  at  the  glass! 
I  seek  divine  simplicity  in  him, 
Who  handles  things  divine  ;  and  all  besides, 
Though  learn'd  with  labour,  and  though  much 
admir'd 

By  curious  eyes  ai\A  judgments  ill-informed. 
To  me  is  odious — * 

As  an  author,  Mr.  P.  published  but  little ; 
and  as  this  was  principally  of  a  local  and 
temporary  nature,  it  never  spread  very  wide- 
ly. In  the  dispute  a  few  years  ago  in  this 
city  concerning'  the  antichristianism  of  all 
war,  he  was  deeply  engaged ;  and  they  who 
were  not  complete  converts  to  his  sentiment, 
must,  I  think  acknowledge,  that  he  advocated 
his  own  principle,  in  a  manner  far  superior 
to  any  thing  they  had  ever  seen  before :  nor 
did  the  controversy  move  or  ruffle  his  temper, 
or  break  in  upon  his  friendly  intercourse  with 
his  reverend  and  respectable  opponent.  The 
same  goodness  of  temper,  along  with  the 
keenest  argument,  and  very  forcible  diction, 
is  apparent  in  his  "  High  church  Claims  ex- 
posed." 

He  had  adopted  the  opinion  of  the  elo- 
quent, but  paradoxical  genius,  Rousseau,  con- 
cerning the  improper  use  of  fiction  in  all 
education  and  teaching ;  and  a  few  years  ago 
he  wrote  a  masterly  essay  on  the  subject ; 
but  it  was  refused  by  the  periodical  writers 
to  whom  it  was  offered :  for  no  talent,  how- 
ever superior,  can  prove  the  point  against  the 
conviction  and  practice  of  the  whole  world, 
and  the  constant  usage  of  our  Saviour  him- 
self, who  always  spake  in  parables. 

Many  of  you  well  know,  that  Mr.  Parsons 
for  many  years  officiated  as  a  minister.  His 
preaching  had  its  claims,  and  marked  a  very 
strong  and  superior  mind ;  but  it  did  not  suf- 
ficiently abound  with  doctrinal  sentiment. 
It  was  too  philosophical  to  be  very  popular. 
It  required  a  degree  of  discernment  and 

*  How  often  would  he  quote  from  his  admired  poet : 
Would  I  describe  a  preacher,  such  as  Paul, 
Were  he  on  earth,  would  hear,  approve  and  own, 
Paul  should  himself  direct  me.    I  would  trace 
His  master-strokes,  and  draw  from  his  design. 
I  would  express  him  simple,  grave,  sincere; 
In  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner:  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 
And  natural  in  gesture ;  much  impressed 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge, 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too !  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men. 

— Is  it  like  ? — Like  whom  ? 
*        *         *         *         *  * 
He  would  also  say— 

For  ghostly  counsel,  if  it  be  not  backed 
With  show  of  love,  at  least  with  hopeful  proof 
Of  some  sincerity  on  the  giver's  part; 
Or  be  dishonoured  in  the  exterior  form 
And  mode  of  its  conveyance  by  such  tricks 
As  move  derision,  or  by  foppish  airs 
And  histrionic  mummery,  that  could  let  down 
The  pulpit  to  the  level  of  the  stage ; 
Drops  from  the  lips  a  disregarded  thing. 
The  weak  perhaps  are  moved,  but  are  not  taught, 
While  prejudice  in  men  of  stronger  minds 
Takes  deeper  root,  confirmed  by  what  they  see. 


taste  in  the  hearers  which  very  few  hearers 
possess.  It  was  also  in  a  style  too  unlike 
the  common  pulpit  phraseology  to  be  ad- 
mired, or  perhaps  well  understood,  in  the 
congregations  which  he  generally  addressed. 
This  style  has  indeed  been  recommended  in 
preference  to  the  usual  one ;  but  if  we  ap- 
peal to  fact,  we  find  very  little  in  favour 
of  it.  Several  preachers  of"  superior  endow- 
ments, who  have  made  the  Spectator  and 
Rambler  their  model  for  pulpit  composition, 
instead  of  the  language  of  our  old  divines, 
freed  from  their  occasional  lowness  and 
quaintness ;  and  have  too  much  disused  the 
simple,  and  well  known,  yet  rich  and  striking 
terms  and  phrases  of  the  present  translation ; 
have  not  met  with  much  acceptance,  and 
have  done  little  good. — Only  one  of  our 
friend's  sermons  has  passed  the  press :  and 
this  was  printed,  not  published.  But  it  is  a 
most  judicious  and  eloquent  production,  and 
worthy  (and  this  is  saying  much)  of  the  fine 
female  character  it  so  justly  describes  and 
extols, the  late  Mrs.  Philips  of  Melksham. 

The  deceased  excelled  in  prayer.  He 
was  remarkably  fluent,  and  serious,  and  af- 
fecting. Whoever  heard  him,  must  have 
entertained  a  high  opinion  of  his  habitual  de- 
votion. In  this  exercise ;  I  never  met  with 
but  one,  that  I  could  rank  with  him :  I  mean  my 
esteemed  friend  and  honoured  tutor,  the  late 
Cornelius  Winter,  of  whom  Mr.  Parsons  was 
often  heard  to  say;  "That  man  is  more  like 
the  image  I  have  formed  of  Jesus  Christ,  than 
any  man  I  ever  saw,  or  expect  to  see." 

For  a  length  of  time  the  son  aided  his 
father ;  but  differing  from  the  good  old  man 
in  some  of  his  high  notions ;  and  the  differ- 
ence being  magnified  by  suspicion  and 
officiousness  on  the  side  of  ignorance,  and  a 
refusing  to  come  to  explanation  on  the  side 
of  talent;  he  was  interdicted  labouring  in 
the  church  to  which  he  belonged;  yet  he 
continued,  till  within  a  few  very  years,  to 
preach  as  opportunity  offered,  or  as  circum- 
stances seemed  to  render  it  a  duty,  in  various 
places,  especially  in  this  church,  of  which,  upon 
the  death  of  his  father,  he  became  a  member. 
Our  friends  here  will  long  remember  their 
obligation  to  his  kindness,  in  so  frequently 
and  promptly  supplying  them,  when  they 
wanted  assistance. 

With  regard  to  the  sentiments  of  our  de- 
parted friend,  on  many  of  the  current  topics 
of  theology,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  profess 
to  know  very  little,  after  an  affectionate  in- 
tercourse of  four  and  twenty  years.  I  should 
infer,  and  I  think  fairly  infer,  from  his  inva- 
riably attending  a  certain  kind  of  preaching, 
when  it  was  perfectly  optional  with  him  to 
hear  another  (and  he  had  an  independence 
of  mind  that  scorned  to  act  but  from  his  own 
conviction),  from  the  cast  of  sermons  he  al- 
ways selected  when  he  read  in  his  family ; 
and  from  many  general  expressions ;  that  in 


DEPLORED  AND  IMPROVED. 


231 


his  leading  doctrinal  views  he  nearly  approxi- 
mated what  is  called  orthodoxy.  But  he  had 
imbibed  an  ineffable  contempt  for  all  creeds 
drawn  up  by  fallible  men.  He  would  not  en- 
dure systematic  divinity.  He  considered 
revelation  indeed  as  a  divine  system;  but 
contended,  that,  in  our  present  state,  we  are 
incompetent  to  diffuse  our  minds  over  the 
whole ;  and  therefore,  that  it  is  our  wisdom  to 
be  satisfied  with  a  limited  knowledge  of  it, 
studying  and  improving  those  parts  that  bear 
upon  our  duty  and  welfare,  and  for  the  rest, 
to  "  Wait  the  great  teacher  death,  and  God 
adore."  He  wished  to  bring  men  to  the 
Bible  for  facts,  rather  than  opinions.  He 
would  have  them  introduced  into  this  "  Broad 
land  of  wealth  unknown,"  if  possible,  by  a 
silent  guide ;  or  by  one  who,  instead  of  pre- 
possessing them  in  favour  of  particular  spots 
as  he  went  along,  should  praise  the  whole: 
and  when  there,  he  would  have  them  left  to 
explore  for  themselves ;  and  be  perfectly  free 
to  move  in  what  direction  they  pleased,  re- 
gardless how  widely  they  diverged  from  each 
other,  while  they  all  kept  on  holy  ground. 
He  allowed,  that  though  there  could  be  no 
real  contradictions  in  the  Scriptures,  there 
were  many  apparent  ones;  and  as  various 
things  seem  contradictory  to  a  child,  which 
easily  and  beautifully  accord  in  the  mind  of 
a  man,  so  some  doctrines  revealed  in  the  gos- 
pel, and  which  perfectly  harmonize  in  the 
view  of  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  will  elude 
all  our  attempts  at  reconciliation,  till  we 
come  of  age.  Hence,  instead  of  torturing  the 
obvious  language  of  Revelation,  he  deemed  it 
better  to  give  every  text  its  own  plain  and 
unforced  meaning.  Theological  systematiz- 
es, he  would  observe,  contrive  at  least  to 
escape  all  inconsistencies  in  language  ;  but 
the  sacred  authors  have  numerous  expres- 
sions which  all  parties  dislike.  Had  the 
epistles  been  written  by  Gill  or  Whitby, 
many  passages  would  have  been  omitted,  or 
very  differently  worded.  There  are  texts 
which  are  the  torment  of  Calvinists,  and  there 
are  texts  which  are  the  grief  of  Arminians. 

I  have  here  endeavoured  to  show,  as  clearly 
as  I  could,  the  disposition  of  our  friend's 
mind,  with  regard  to  religious  inquiry.  And 
here  I  confess,  I  go  a  considerable  distance 
with  him,  and  in  stating  his  views,  I  have  in 
a  great  measure  expressed  my  own.  But 
you  will  excuse  my  saying,  that  I  always 
feared  his  candour  bordered  too  much  on  lati- 
tudinarianism;  and  that  he  did  not  attach,  or 
at  least  evince  that  he  attached,  sufficient 
importance  to  certain  doctrinal  truths.  |I 
mention  this  the  more  freely,  because  you 
will  bear  me  witness,  how  often  I  express 
and  expose  an  opposite  extreme.  For  how 
many  are  there,  especially  in  our  day,  who 
attach  too  much  importance  to  sentiment:  I 
do  not  mean  if  taken  in  its  connexion  and  in- 
fluence— Then  we  cannot  be  loo  strenuous  in 


the  support  of  it ;  for,  as  a  late  writer  ob- 
serves, "  If  error  be  harmless,"  truth  is  in  the 
same  proportion  worthless:  but  I  speak  of  sen- 
timent abstractedly  considered ;  when  faith  is 
valued,  not  as  the  principle  of  holiness  and 
good  works,  but  a  substitute  for  them ;  when 
the  creed  dispenses  with  the  Lord's  prayer, 
and  the  ten  commandments ;  when  people 
think  it  sufficient,  if  their  notions  are  sound, 
though  their  lives  are  worldly,  or  their  hearts 
full  of  envy,  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness. 
May  we  always  hear  a  voice  behind  us,  say- 
ing, "  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it,  when 
we  turn  to  the  right  hand,  and  when  we  turn 
to  the  left." 

But  what  I  least  admired  in  the  subject  of 
this  address,  was  too  great  a  love  of  singulari- 
ty in  his  general  opinions,  which  led  him  so 
frequently  to  dissent  from  what  was  said  in 
company,  and  turned  conversation  into  an 
intellectual  contest :  a  willingness  to  perplex 
people  as  to  his  notions,  or  to  excite  suspi- 
cions of  his  heterodoxy :  a  degree  of  mental 
severity,  that  inclined  him  more  profusely  to 
censure  than  to  applaud,  and  to  notice  ble- 
mishes, rather  than  beauties :  and,  above  all, 
a  freedom  of  discourse  upon  religious  subjects, 
before  young  persons,  and  people  not  decid- 
edly religious,  from  which,  those  who  well 
knew  him,  would  not  have  inferred  his  belief, 
but  from  which,  others  were  in  danger  of  er- 
roneously doing  so,  and  of  acting  under  the 
countenance  of  his  supposed  authority.  But 
for  this,  he  must  have  been  idolized.  I  men- 
tion it  with  tenderness ;  but  I  do  not,  I  cannot 
justify  it.  I  throw  a  veil  of  love  over  it, 
conscious  that,  for  other  imperfections,  I  need 
a  much  larger  one  myself.  My  exalted 
friend  would  not  desire  indiscriminate  praise 
— he  is  too  great  to  stand  in  need  of  it.  His 
solid,  his  extensive,  his  established,  his  ac- 
knowledged worth  can  bear  a  censure.  Some 
are  too  poor  to  lose  a  farthing ;  but  the  loss  of 
a  purse  does  not  alarm  the  friends  of  the  rich. 
It  is  the  insignificant  man  that  dreads  reproof : 
he  is  "  in  danger  of  being  snuffed  out."  But 
we  have  not  a  candle  before  us. 

Defects  through  nature's  best  productions  run. 
Our  friend  had  spots,  and  spots  are  in  the  sun. 

Let  me  hasten  to  exhibit,  what  will  combine 
the  suffrage,  and  will  draw  forth  the  praise, 
of  every  individual :  It  is,  the  character 

OF   THE  DEPARTED    AS    A  WHOLE.      Here  I 

see  no  ordinary  assemblage  of  excellency. 

Here  I  see  a  man  peculiarly  attached  to 
the  volume  of  inspiration,  and  the  determined 
enemy  of  every  opinion  that  would  reduce  its 
importance,  or  share  its  authority.  Even  the 
common  distinction  between  natural  and  re- 
vealed religion,  as  to  their  origin,  he  dis- 
claimed; and  contended,  that  all  religious 
knowledge  was  from  divine  communication, 
even  to  the  belief  of  a  Supreme  Being. 
Hence  Ellin's  "  Knowledge  of  Divine  Things, 
not  from  Reason,  but  Revelation,"  was  his 


232  THE  LOSS  OF 

favourite  book.  Hence  no  institution  so  com- 
pletely gained  his  applause  as  "  The  British 
and  Foreign  Bible  Society."  The  spread  of 
the  Scriptures,  without  note  or  comment,  was 
the  wish  and  the  delight  of  his  soul. 

I  see  a  man  possessing  a  capacity  to  edify 
himself  and  his  family  at  home,  regular,  and 
invariable,  unless  hindered  by  indisposition, 
in  his  attendance  on  the  means  of  grace  ;  and 
honouring  the  worship  of  God  in  the  week  as 
well  as  on  the  Sabbath. 

I  see  a  man  distinguished  by  the  most  in- 
offensive manners ;  the  most  upright  conduct ; 
avoiding  through  life  the  appearance  of  evil, 
and  leaving  a  reputation  without  a  stain. 

I  see  a  man  the  ardent  lover  of  liberty ;  the 
hater  of  war,  and  of  priestcraft ;  of  bigotry 
and  intolerance ;  of  every  thing  that  would 
divide  Christians,  or  narrow  the  terms  of 
their  communion. 

What  shall  I  say  of  his  kindness  and  use- 
fulness, as  an  adviser  in  every  difficulty  and 
embarrassment  ? 

What  shall  I  say  of  the  generous  benefac- 
tor, that  never  refused  distress,  when  he  had 
it  in  the  power  of  his  hand  to  relieve ;  and 
whose  bounty  resembled  the  goodness  of  our 
heavenly  Father,  who  maketh  his  sun  to  rise, 
and  his  rain  descend  "  Upon  the  evil  and  the 
good]" 

What  shall  I  say  of  the  friendly  corres- 
pondent, of  the  vast  and  varied  circle  he  in- 
dulged; of  the  hours  he  employed  in  letters 
of  edification  and  comfort,  addressed  to  the 
fatherless  and  widow,  the  poor  and  the  help- 
less, and  in  which  talent  and  piety  were 
equally  combined? 

Observe  him  at  the  head  of  his  family.  See 
him  walking  within  his  house  with  a  perfect 
heart,  and  setting  no  wicked  thing  before  his 
eyes.  Hear  him  morning  and  evening  at 
his  domestic  altar.  Remember  the  unim- 
peachable value  of  the  neighbour;  the  mas- 
ter ;  the  husband  ;  the  father — 

And  you  will  not  wonder  that,  as  a  citizen 
he  is  so  missed ;  that  as  a  friend  he  is  so 
lamented  ;  that  as  a  relative  he  is  so  beloved : 
and  as  a  character  he  is  so  extolled. 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  general  limit 
of  human  life.  For  some  years  back  he  was 
rather  infirm  :  and  during  the  winter,  suffer- 
ed considerable  confinement,  with  much 
difficulty  of  breathing. 

Of  late  he  seemed  better  than  usual,  and 
had  only  a  week  before  his  death,  peculiarly 
enjoyed  a  visit  at  the  house  of  a  beloved 
friend,  in  a  neighbouring  town.  On  the 
Friday  evening,  he  conversed  in  his  usual 
manner,  with  one  of  his  most  intimate  ac- 
quaintances, so  late  as  nine  o'clock.  But 
very  early  on  the  Saturday  morning,  he  was 
seized  with  a  complaint  in  his  bowels,  which 
in  a  few  hours  carried  him  off|  and  with  a 
rapidity  that  astonished  even  his  old  medical 
attendant.    Thus  his  friends  were  deprived 


CONNEXIONS 

of  an  opportunity  to  6ee  him :  and  very  few 
knew  of  his  illness,  till  they  were  astonished 

and  distressed  at  the  news  of  his  death.  

But  let  us  listen  to  the  voice  from  "the 
most  excellent  glory :"  "  Is  any  afflicted  let 
him  pray  !"  

O  God,  thou  hast  been  our  refuge  and 
dwelling-place  in  all  generations.  Before 
the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever 
thou  hadst  formed  the  earth,  and  even  from 
everlasting  to  the  world  everlasting,  thou  art 
God.  But  as  for  man  his  days  are  as  grass ; 
as  a  flower  of  the  field,  so  he  flourisheth,  for 
the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone;  and 
the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more. 

May  each  individual  in  this  mournful  and 
numerous  assembly,  retire  and  pray,  make 
me  to  know  my  end,  and  the  measure  of  my 
days,  what  it  is,  that  I  may  know  how  frail  I 
am.  May  we  so  reflect  on  the  vanity, 
brevity,  and  uncertainty  of  things,  seen  and 
temporal,  as  supremely  to  pursue  those  things 
which  are  unseen  and  eternal.  May  we  seek 
the  pardon  of  our  sin,  and  the  sanctification 
of  our  nature,  a  title  to  heaven,  and  a  meet- 
ness  for  the  inheritance  of  the  Saints  in 
light,  with  all  the  ardour  and  diligence  their 
infinite  importance,  and  the  short  and  pre- 
carious season  for  obtaining  them  demand. 

Before  we  leave  this  world,  may  we  not 
only  be  prepared  for  a  better,  but  assured  of 
it ;  that  we  may  be  able  to  say,  The  bitter- 
ness of  death  is  past ;  view  our  dissolution  as 
the  signal  of  our  deliverance  and  triumph; 
and  have  an  entrance  ministered  unto  us, 
abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 

Establish  in  us  a  firm  and  lively  persua- 
sion of  thy  being,  providence,  and  grace.  We 
bless  thee  for  all  our  personal  and  relative 
comforts.  May  we  always  hold  them  at  thy 
disposal,  and  be  ready  to  resign  them  at  thy 
call.  And  when  they  are  removed  from  us, 
enable  us  to  blend  the  views  of  the  Christian, 
with  the  feelings  of  the  creature:  and  in 
weeping  submission  say  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  and  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

In  thy  lovingkindness  and  tender  mercy 
regard  the  afflicted  family,  whose  invaluable 
head  thou  hast  taken  from  them.  We  bless 
thee  that  he  was  not  prematurely  removed 
in  the  midst  of  his  days,  and  before  his  off- 
spring were  reared,  educated,  and  provided 
for — but  matured  by  years  and  experience, 
like  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe  in  his  season. 
We  bless  thee  that  those  who  are  mourning 
over  a  thousand  affecting  recollections,  sor- 
row not  as  others  who  have  no  hope ;  for  if 
we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again, 
even  so  them  also  that  sleep  in  Jesus,  will 
God  bring  with  him.  May  every  tendency 
to  murmur,  and  even  to  complain,  be  lost  in 
the  conviction,  That  all  the  ways  of  the  Lord 


DEPLORED  AND  IMPROVED. 


233 


are  mercy  and  truth,  unto  such  as  keep  his 
covenant  and  h\s  testimonies:  and  that  what 
we  know  not  now,  we  shall  know  hereafter. 
May  the  house  of  mourning  be  found  the 
house  of  instruction.  By  the  sadness  of  the 
countenance,  may  the  heart  be  made  better ; 
more  soft  to  receive  holy  impressions;  and 
more  serious  to  hear  what  God  the  Lord  will 
speak.  May  the  sons  and  daughters  of  be- 
reavement, who  have  added  the  remains  of  a 
long  spared  father,  to  the  ashes  of  an  early 
lost  mother,  be  encouraged  to  confide  in  thee 
the  living  God,  and  say,  When  my  father 
and  my  mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord 
will  take  me  up.  May  they  never  forget  the 
worth  to  which  they  have  been  allied,  nor 
degenerate  from  those  excellencies,  which 
beyond  every  other  patrimonial  inheritance, 
they  ought  to  value.  May  they  have  grace 
to  follow  those  who  are  gone  before  them,  as 
far  as  they  were  followers  of  God :  that  they 
may  look  forward,  and  realize  a  renewal  of 
intercourse,  in  a  word  of  perfect  and  endless 
friendship. 

Eternal  Jehovah  !  we  can  die  easier  than 
we  once  could !  Many  of  the  ties  that  once 
bound  us  to  earth,  are  broken  asunder !  Our 
treasure  is  in  heaven: 

There  our  best  friends,  our  kindred  dwell, 
There  God  our  Saviour  reigns. 


How  many  whose  presence  once  gave  a 
charm  and  a  relish  to  life ;  whose  counsels 
guided  us,  whose  example  blessed  us ;  whose 
hand  wiped  away  our  tears — (and  we  have 
had  many  to  wipe:) — have  left  us  in  this 
wilderness ;  while  they  have  reached  the  pro- 
mised land,  and  are  made  pillars  in  the  tem- 
ple above,  and  shall  no  more  go  out.  We 
would  not  draw  them  out,  and  bring  them 
back,  if  it  were  in  our  power.  We  rejoice 
in  their  safety,  and  happiness,  and  glory.  But 
we  are  allowed  to  long  for  the  hour,  when 
we  shall  be  received  by  them,  into  everlast- 
ing habitations.  Thou  wilt  not  suffer  us  to 
want,  what  appears  so  necessary  to  our  bless- 
edness, the  pleasure  of  knowing  those  again, 
whom  we  have  so  dearly  esteemed.  We 
shall,  mingle  with  them  again,  and  the  days 
we  have  passed  in  their  absence,  will  appear 
as  a  dream.  We  shall  form  new  and  more 
intimate  connexions  with  them.  We  shall 
excite  no  mutual  anxieties.  We  shall  only 
add  to  each  others  pleasure,  and  promote  each 
others  improvement. 

"  Now  unto  him  that  is  able  to  keep  us 
from  falling,  and  to  present  us  faultless  be- 
fore the  presence  of  his  glory  with  exceed- 
ing joy ;  To  the  only  wise  God  our  Saviour, 
be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and  power, 
both  now  and  for  ever.  Amen.' 


2G 


20* 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  AN  EVANGELICAL  MINISTRY : 

A  SERMON, 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF 

THE  REV.  ARTHUR  TIDMAN, 

As  Pastor  of  the  Congregation  of  Protestant  Dissenters,  meeting  in  Endless- Street 
Chapel,  Salisbury,  on  Thursday,  April  the  6th,  1815. 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


TO  THE  REV.  ARTHUR  TIDMAN,  THE  CHURCH  AND  CONGREGATION 
UNDER  HIS  CARE,  AND  ALL  HIS  BRETHREN  IN  THE  MINISTRY, 

Who  joined  so  unanimously  and  earnestly  in  requesting  the  publication, 

this  Discourse  is  respectfully  dedicated  by  The  Author. 


For  toe  are  unto  God  a  stveet  savour  of  Christ, 
in  them  that  are  saved,  and  in  them  that 
perish :  to  the  one,  -we  are  the  savour  of 
death  unto  death;  and  to  the  other,  the  sa- 
vour of  life  unto  life. — 2  Cor.  ii.  15,  16. 
The  appointment  of  an  order  of  men  to 
preach,  is  an  institution  peculiar  to  Chris- 
tianity.   There  was  nothing  like  it  in  all  the 
heathen  world.    Their  leaders  had  no  wish 
to  inform  the  common  people.    Princes  and 
priests  were  satisfied  to  take  advantage  of 
their  ignorance  and  superstition.  Indeed, 
they  had  nothing  of  importance  to  communi- 
cate.   They  had  not  even  a  perfect  code 
of  morals.    In  what  passed  among  them  for 
virtue,  there  was  no  clearness,  no  certainty, 
no  authority :  they  had  no  fixed  rule  to  which 
they  could  appeal,  no  powerful  sanctions  by 
which  they  could  enforce. 

But,  "When  in  the  wisdom  of  God,  the 
world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God ;  it  pleased 
God,  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save 
them  that  believe."  The  Redeemer  himself 
came,  and  "  preached  peace  to  you  that  were 
far  off,  and  to  them  that  were  near."  And 
"  when  he  ascended  up  on  high,  leading  cap- 
tivity captive,  he  gave  gifts  unto  men :  and 
he  gave  some,  apostles ;  and  some,  prophets ; 
and  some,  evangelists ;  and  some,  pastors  and 
teachers ;  for  the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for 


the  work  of  the  ministry,  for  the  edifying  of 
the  body  of  Christ :  till  we  all  come  in  the 
unity  of  the  faith  and  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the 
measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ." 

The  office,  therefore,  is  of  perpetual  obli- 
gation; and  we  have  been  indulged  this 
morning  with  an  encouraging  instance  of  the 
continuance  of  it,  in  the  public  separation  of 
our  young  and  valued  brother,  to  labour 
among  this  people,  in  the  word  and  doctrine. 

— Yes,  my  friends  of  this  church  and  con- 
gregation, "  To  you  is  the  word  of  this  sal- 
vation sent."  "  Many  prophets  and  righteous 
men,  have  desired  to  see  those  things  which 
you  see,  and  have  not  seen  them ;  and  to 
hear  those  things  which  you  hear,  and  have 
not  heard  them.  But  blessed  are  your  eyes, 
for  they  see,  and  your  ears,  for  they  hear." 
"  Blessed  are  the  people  that  know  the  joyful 
sound."  Or — shall  I  so  soon  change  my  voice 
— and  exclaim — Cursed  are  the  people  that 
know  the  joyful  sound.  Cursed  are  your 
eyes,  for  they  see,  and  your  ears,  for  they 
hear  !  Let  me  at  once  lay  open  the  feelings 
of  my  mind,  and  tell  you — That  the  privilege, 
by  neglect  or  perversion,  may  become  a 
penalty :  and  that  your  greatest  danger 
grows  by  the  side  of  your  greatest  mercy.  I 
wish,  therefore  in  this  service,  not  to  abolish 
234 


OF  AN  EVANGELICAL  MINISTRY. 


235 


your  pleasure,  but  to  qualify  it;  not  to  forbid 
you  to  rejoice,  but  to  call  upon  you  to  rejoice 
with  trembling ;  and  to  record  in  your  con- 
sciences the  admonition  of  the  apostle :  "  Let 
us  therefore  fear,  lest  a  promise  being  left  us 
of  entering  into  his  rest,  any  of  you  should 
seem  to  come  short  of  it." 

When  Simeon  had  pressed  heaven  to  his 
bosom,  and  delivered  back  the  anointed  babe 
into  his  mother's  arms,  he  said — "  This  child 
is  set  for  the  fall,  and  the  rising  again,  of 
many  in  Israel."  And  such,  in  reality,  is 
the  pleasing  and  awful  destiny  of  this  young 
minister.  The  proceedings  of  this  day,  and 
the  relation  now  subsisting  between  you, 
wear  an  eternal  importance,  and  will  be  re- 
viewed with  joy,  or  anguish  for  ever.  "For, 
we  are  unto  god  a  sweet  savour  of 
Christ,  in  them  that  are  saved,  and  in 
them  that  perish:  to  the  one  we  are 
the  savour  of  death  unto  death;  and  to 
the  other  the  savour  of  life  unto  life." 

Let  us  simplify  the  passage.  It  contains 
only  two  things;  or  rather,  it  contains  only 
one  thing,  placed  in  two  points  of  light.  Mi- 
nisters of  the  gospel  are  a  savour  of  Christ  : 
this  is  the  first.  Ministers  of  the  gospel  are 
variously  regarded  :  this  is  the  second. 

I.  They  are  a  savour  of  Christ. 

How  the  expression  is  to  be  understood, 
appears  from  the  preceding  words,  where  the 
apostle  says,  "  He  maketh  manifest  the  sa- 
vour of  his  knowledge  by  us  in  every  place." 
It  shows  us,  that,  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is 
not  a  dry,  speculative,  uninteresting  thing; 
but  has  a  value,  a  richness,  an  attraction  in 
it,  that  renders  it  infinitely  delightful.  Hence 
the  apostle  says,  "  Yea  doubtless,  and  I  count 
all  things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord."  And 
adds,  after  all  his  acquaintance  with  him, 
"  That  I  may  know  him,  and  the  power  of 
his  resurrection,  and  the  fellowship  of  his 
Bufferings ;  being  made  conformable  unto  his 
death." 

The  word  savour  signifies  both  odour  and 
relish.  It  equally  takes  in  what  indulges  the 
taste  and  the  smell :  and  we  are  called  upon 
to  "Taste  that  the  Lord  is  gracious:"  and 
are  told,  that  "His  name  is  as  ointment 
poured  forth." 

This  then,  my  dear  brother,  is  the  office  to 
which  you  are  called ;  it  is  to  be  a  savour  of 
Christ,  by  diffusing  the  knowledge  of  Christ. 
This  you  are  to  make  your  constant  business. 
This  you  are  to  feel  your  supreme  delight. 
Allow  me  to  mention  the  way  in  which  you 
may  best  subserve  this  honourable  destination. 
It  is  by  an  attention  to  your  Practice — to 
your  Conversation — and  to  your  Preaching. 

First.  Be  a  savour  of  Christ  in  your  Prac- 
tice. Paul  says  to  Timothy, — "Thou  hast 
fully  known,"  not  only  "my  doctrine,"  but 
"  manner  of  life."  It  was  such  as  became  the 
gospel ;  and  adorned  the  doctrine  of  God  our 


Saviour,  in  all  things.  He  could  appeal  both 
to  his  hearers,  and  to  his  master :  "  Ye  are 
witnesses,  and  God  also,  how  holily,  and 
justly,  and  unblamably  we  behaved  ourselves 
among  you."  Allowing  for  those  infirmities, 
which  are  inseparable  from  this  weak  state 
of  flesh  and  blood,  there  are  modern  ministers, 
who  could  abide  the  same  appeal.  An  accu- 
rate observer  of  character,  now  living,  once 
said  of  the  late  excellent  Cornelius  Winter, 
"  I  am  never  in  the  company  of  that  man, 
without  feeling  a  paradisaiacal  innocency." 
This  was  truly  and  finely  said :  yet  it  does 
not  go  far  enough.  Some  of  us  in  the  pre- 
sence of  God,  had  the  unspeakable  privilege 
of  being  placed  beneath  his  care,  and  of  enjoy- 
ing, for  years,  constant  and  unrestrained  in- 
tercourse with  him.  We  know  the  full  mean- 
ing of  the  eulogium  I  have  quoted ;  and  we 
know  more.  If  we  may  judge  from  our  own 
feelings,  it  was  impossible  to  be  with  him, 
and  not  feel — "A  savour  of  Christ:"  and  not 
secretly  exclaim — Here  is  a  Christian ! — How 
lovely  is  a  Christian ! — O  that  I  was  a  Chris- 
tian !  He  was  an  image  of  the  gospel  he 
preached :  and  those  who  refused  to  hear  his 
sermons,  were  constrained  to  read  them ;  for 
they  were  all  legibly  written  in  his  life.  In 
the  neighbourhood  in  which  he  lived,  and 
died,  the  savour  still  continues;  and  will  live 
as  long  as  the  memories  of  those  who  knew 
him. 

Example  is  instructive  and  impressive, 
even  in  private  life ;  but  how  important  is  it 
in  public  stations,  where  it  is  more  open  to 
observation,  and  is  required  to  give  weight 
and  sanction  to  useful  endeavours.  Official 
piety,  unsustained  and  unenlivened  by  per- 
sonal, leaves  a  man  but  as  sounding  brass, 
and  a  tinkling  cymbal.  I  have  heard  of  a 
minister  of  whom  it  was  said — When  in  the 
pulpit,  he  preached  so  well,  that  it  was  a  pity 
he  ever  left  it;  and  when  out  of  it,  he  lived 
so  ill,  that  it  was  a  pity  he  ever  entered  it. 
Even  angelical  preaching,  connected  with 
irreligious  living,  is  infinitely  more  likely  to 
prejudice  and  injure  the  cause  of  Christ  than 
to  serve  it.  "Thou  knowest  his  will,  and 
approvest  the  things  that  are  more  excellent, 
being  instructed  out  of  the  law ;  and  art  con- 
fident that  thou  thyself  art  a  guide  of  the 
blind,  a  light  of  them  which  are  in  darkness, 
an  instructor  of  the  foolish,  a  teacher  of  babes, 
which  hast  the  form  of  knowledge  and  of  the 
truth  in  the  law.  Thou  therefore  which 
teachest  another,  teachest  thou  not  thyself  ! 
thou  that  preachest  a  man  should  not  steal, 
dost  thou  steal?  Thou  that  sayest  a  man 
should  not  commit  adultery,  dost  thou  commit 
adultery  ]  thou  that  abhorrest  idols,  dost  thou 
commit  sacrilege  1  thou  that  makest  thy  boast 
of  the  law,  through  breaking  the  law  disho- 
nourest  thou  God?" 

How  lamentable  is  it  when  ministers  are 
proud,  and  fall  into  the  condemnation  of  the 


236 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF 


devil ;  when  they  are  fierce  and  contentious, 
instead  of  being  gentle  towards  all  men; 
when  they  are  eager  to  gain  titles,  and  to  be 
called  rabbi,  instead  of  seeking  the  honour 
that  cometh  from  God  only ;  when  they  lord 
it  over  God's  heritage,  and  are  greedy  of 
filthy  lucre,  instead  of  being  ensamples  to  the 
flock — I  need  not  say,  "  Thou,  O  man  of  God, 
flee  these  things ;  and  follow  after  righteous- 
ness, godliness,  faith,  love,  patience,  meek- 
ness.   Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,  lay  hold 
on  eternal  life,  whereunto  thou  art  also  called, 
and  hast  professed  a  good  profession  before 
many  witnesses."    Cultivate  not  only  the 
constituent,  but  the  ornamental  parts  of  the 
Christian  character.  Think  upon,  and  pursue, 
not  only  whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatso- 
ever things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are 
just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  but — what- 
soever things  are  lovely,  and — whatsoever 
things  are  of  good  report.    Let  not  the  com- 
mendation you  acquire  be  made  up  of  mere 
negatives.    It  is  the  affliction  of  the  church, 
when  all  that  can  be  said  of  her  officers  is, 
that  they  are  not  as  other  men  are.    Be  not 
only  blameless  and  harmless,  but  exemplary 
and  impressive,  holding  forth  the  word  of  life. 
Let  your  temper  and  actions  betray  your  in- 
timacies, and  lead  people  to  take  knowledge 
of  you,  that  you  have  been  with  Jesus.  Let 
the  master  be  seen  in  the  dispositions  and 
conduct  of  the  servant.  Let  the  accurateness 
of  the  copy  bring  to  mind  the  original,  and 
serve  to  endear  Him,  who  pleased  not  him- 
self; who  was  meek  and  lowly  in  heart;  who 
went  about  doing  good ;  who  mourned  with 
friends:  who  wept  over  enemies;  and  who 
could  say,  even  of  his  obedience  unto  death, 
"  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent 
me,  and  to  finish  his  work."    "  Let  the  same 
mind  be  in  you  which  was  also  in  Christ 
Jesus." 

Secondly,  Be  a  savour  of  Christ  in  your 
conversation.  "  All  thy  works  shall  praise 
thee,  O  Lord  ;  and  thy  saints  shall  bless  thee. 
They  shall  speak  of  the  glory  of  thy  king- 
dom, and  talk  of  thy  power;  to  make  known 
to  the  sons  of  men  his  mighty  acts,  and  the 
glorious  majesty  of  his  kingdom.  They 
shall  abundantly  utter  the  memory  of  thy 
great  goodness,  and  shall  sing  of  thy  right- 
eousness." Is  this  to  be  verified  in  Christians 
only  ]  And  are  ministers  to  be  silent  upon  a 
subject,  always  important,  always  necessary, 
unless  when  they  are  declaiming  in  the 
sanctuary]  How  many  opportunities  of  an 
occasional  and  private  nature,  have  they,  to 
speak  of  "  those  things  which  concern  the 
Lord  Jesus ;"  when,  though  the  audience  be 
small,  the  instruction  is  more  appropriate, 
and  the  impression  is  often  more  durable. 

Will  you  permit  me  to  remark,  that  there 
is  room  for  improvement  among  us  in  this 
article.  It  is  to  be  feared,  that  there  is  fre- 
quently less  serious  conversation  when  some 


ministers  are  present,  than  when  they  are 
absent.  Our  forefathers  in  the  sacred  office, 
were  grave  and  useful  in  their  social  inter- 
course;  and  men  of  God  in  the  pulpit, 
were  not  buffoons  in  the  parlour.  They 
laboured,  and  we  are  entered  into  their  la- 
bours. Think  of  their  self-denial,  their  early 
risings,  their  strenuous  diligence,  their  long 
and  profound  and  exhausting  applications — 
see  their  proficiencies — look  over  the  cata- 
logue of  their  works — take  down  their 
quartos  and  folios.  If  such  men  had  erred  a 
little  on  the  side  of  conversational  freedom, 
candour  might  have  derived  some  excuse 
from  the  necessity  of  unbending  their  minds, 
and  indulging  a  flow  of  spirits  in  the  family, 
and  friendly  circle  when  "  scaped  from  lite- 
rary cares."  But  few  of  our  young  mi- 
nisters are  likely  to  become  martyrs  to  intel- 
lectual exertion.  Their  reading  is  often 
cursory,  their  preparations  superficial,  and 
the  time  6pent  in  their  study,  inconsiderable. 
For  such,  a  great  deal  of  mental  relaxation 
is  not  surely  necessary.  To  find  them  ind  ulg- 
ing,  in  lengthened  repose  in  the  morning, 
stretching  at  length  on  the  sofa,  and  compelled 
to  have  recourse  to  light  and  jocular  conver- 
sation, to  relieve  their  minds  from  the  inten- 
sity of  application,  would,  if  the  thing  could 
be  viewed  abstractedly,  create  a  smile.  I  am 
not  pleading  for  dulness ;  I  am  no  enemy  to 
cheerfulness.  I  love  a  touch  of  fancy,  and  a 
stroke  of  wit,  and  a  well-told  anecdote,  espe- 
cially if  some  profit  can  be  extracted  from 
the  entertainment  it  affords.  But  I  would 
say  to  a  young  minister  (here  I  am  happy  my 
dear  brother  to  avow,  that  I  make  you  the 
occasion,  and  not  the  subject  of  address) 
I  would  say  to  a  young  minister — Do  not 
affect  drollery.  Attempt  not  incessantly  to 
excite  diversion.  Utter  nothing  that  tries  the 
moral  feelings  of  any  who  hear  you.  Espe- 
cially beware  of  turning  into  ridicule,  the 
imperfections  of  some  of  your  brethren,  who 
are,  perhaps,  much  worthier  than  yourself, 
though  not  so  highly  gifted,  or  well  educated. 
Delight  not  to  satirize  every  infirmity  of  ig- 
norant and  illiterate  people,  before  children 
and  servants,  who,  not  accurately  distinguish- 
ing, between  the  circumstances,  and  the  sub- 
stance of  a  thing,  may  infer  you  are  not  very 
friendly  to  religion  itself.  Remember  that  in 
moral  soil,  as  well  as  in  the  material,  some 
things  must,  for  a  while,  be  tolerated  for  the 
sake  of  others ;  lest  in  plucking  up  the  tares, 
you  root  up  also  the  wheat  with  them — every 
moment  is  not  the  time  of  harvest.  Consider 
it,  not  as  a  commendation,  but  rather  as  a 
censure,  to  be  celebrated  for  oddity  and  mer- 
riment. Be  not  the  monkey  and  the  fiddle 
cf  the  company.  Remember,  there  is  such 
a  text,  if  you  can  never  dare  to  preach  from 
it,  as  "  Foolish  talking  and  jesting  which 
is  not  convenient." 

Let  nothing  degrade  you  into  the  trifler. 


AN  EVANGELICAL  MINISTRY. 


237 


Support  in  private,  the  reputation  you  gain  in 
public.  Maintain  cheerfulness  without  le- 
vity, and  ease  without  familiarity.  Let  no 
corrupt  communication  proceed  out  of  your 
mouth,  but  that  which  is  good,  to  the  use  of 
edifying',  that  it  may  minister  grace  unto  the 
hearers.  Take  notice  of  seasons,  of  events, 
of  the  rumours  of  the  day,  of  the  circum- 
stances of  the  place,  to  introduce  the  one 
thing  needful ;  and  resolve,  that  wherever 
you  are  found,  and  have  opportunity  to  be 
heard,  He  shall  not  be  forgotten,  who  died 
for  you  and  rose  again.  Indeed,  if  the  word 
of  Christ  dwells  in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom, 
and  you  have  an  affluence  of  Christian  expe- 
rience as  well  as  knowledge,  a  remark  which 
you  will  often  apply  to  your  people  as  an  holy 
criterion  of  their  state,  will  be  exemplified 
in  yourself,  "  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the 
heart  the  mouth  speaketh."  Your  ordinary 
discourse  will  not  only  correspond  with  your 
office,  but  co-operate  with  it ;  the  social  com- 
panion will  be  an  assistant  preacher  to  the 
pastor;  and  like  Paul,  you  will  not  only 
teach  Jesus  Christ  in  the  temple,  but  from 
house  to  house. 

Thirdly.  Be  a  savour  of  Christ  in  your 
Preaching.  Are  there  none,  whose  Dis- 
courses savour  more  of  Plato,  and  Seneca,  and 
Socrates,  and  Xenophon,  than  of  the  worthy 
name  by  which  we  are  called  ? — Are  there 
none  whose  sermons  abound  with  worldly 
politics,  angry  controversies,  curious  criti- 
cisms, ingenious  remarks,  and  merely  moral 
reflections,  rather  than  with  the  doctrine  of 
salvation  by  the  cross  and  the  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ?  If  ever  He  is  referred 
to,  is  it  not  in  a  way  of  cold  reserve,  or  in- 
direct allusion  ? 

We  hear  much  in  our  day  of  Antinomians. 
Such  I  am  persuaded  there  are.  We  fre- 
quently meet  with  those  who  have  grown 
wanton  in  evangelical  privileges,  and  use 
their  liberty  as  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,  and 
not  as  the  servants  of  God.  Of  such,  we  need 
not  be  afraid  to  speak,  in  scriptural  language. 
They  are  ungodly  men  that  turn  the  grace 
of  our  God  into  lasciviousness.  We  ought  to 
show  our  disapprobation  of  those,  whose  sen- 
timents professedly  degrade  the  law  of  God  as 
a  rule  of  life ;  treat  holiness  and  good  works 
as  no  more  the  evidences  and  effects  of  sal- 
vation, than  the  cause  of  it;  and  not  only 
deny,  but  ridicule  the  reality  and  progress 
of  a  work  of  grace  in  the  heart.  From  such 
withdraw  thyself.  But  I  dare  not  set  down 
every  one  as  deserving  this  reproach,  who 
incurs  the  name.  We  ought  to  consider 
much,  from  whom  the  charge  comes :  for  it 
may  so  happen,  that  the  censured  are  deemed 
excessive,  because  the  censurers  are  them- 
selves defective.  And  I  cannot  but  fear,  lest 
some  of  our  younger  and  less  experienced 
brethren,  in  avoiding  one  extreme,  run  into  i 
another:  and  from  a  laudable  concern  to 


guard  the  truths  of  the  gospel,  impoverish 
them ;  and  feed  their  flock  in  such  poor  and 
sparing  pasture,  as  to  tempt  them  to  break 
bounds,  and  enter  the  rank  grasses  of  these 
pseudo-doctrinalists.  Your  admonisher  this 
morning,  mentions  this  the  more  readily,  be- 
cause he  remembers  a  time  when  he  erred  a 
little  in  this  direction  himself ;  and  he  is  not 
ashamed  to  confess,  that  there  are,  of  his  ear- 
lier sermons,  such  as  he  could  not  conscien- 
tiously preach  again  ;  not  because  they  were 
not  consistent  with  the  "  truth  as  it  is  in  Je- 
sus," or  did  not  even  imply  it,  but  because, 
according  to  his  present  views,  they  did  not 
fully  express  it,  and  sufficiently  make  mani- 
fest the  savour  of  his  knowledge. 

A  young  divine,  says  Manton,  one  day 
asked  an  old  Christian,    "  What  shall  I 
preach  1"    He  received  for  answer,  "  Preach 
Christ."    "  O,  I  have  preached  him,"  says  he, 
"  already."    "  Why  then,"  added  the  sage, 
"  Preach  him  again  :  preach  him  always:  and 
preach  him  only."    This  is  advice,  which, 
however  lightly  some  may  treat  it  now,  all 
these  worthies  would  have  sanctioned,  whose 
works  praise  them  in  the  gate.    The  time 
would  fail  me  to  tell  of  Leighton,  and  Hall, 
and  Owen,  and  Baxter,  and  Reynolds,  and 
Howe,  and  Charnoch,  and  Polhill,  and  Bates, 
and  Watts,  and  Doddridge,  and  numbers 
more,  who  were  for  nothing  more  remarkable 
than  a  rich,  full,  and  consistent  display  of  the 
Lord  Jesus.    They  proclaimed  him,  in  the 
dignity  of  his  person  ;  in  the  glory  of  his  cha- 
racter ;  in  the  condescension  of  his  grace ;  in 
the  wonders  of  his  love ;  in  the  efficacy  of  his 
sufferings ;  in  the  prevalency  of  his  interces- 
sion ;  in  his  ability  to  save  to  the  uttermost 
them  that  come  unto  God  by  him.  They 
preached  him,  as  the  only  foundation  of  a  sin- 
ner's hope;  as  the  Lord  our  righteousness  and 
strength ;  as  the  consolation  of  Israel,  in  whom 
they  were  to  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory :  and  to  use  the  expression 
of  one  of  them,  "  Christ  was  the  diamond  in 
the  bosom  of  all  their  sermons."    And  what 
was  the  practice  of  the  apostles  1     "  We 
preach  Christ  crucified,"  says  Paul,  "  to  the 
Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greeks 
foolishness ;  but  unto  them  that  are  called, 
both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  wisdom  of 
God  and  the  power  of  God.    Because  the 
foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  men,  and  the 
weakness  of  God  is  stronger  than  men."  "I 
determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among  you, 
save  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified."  "  God 
forbid  that  I  should  glory  save  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."    Accordingly,  he 
viewed  and  explained,  and  improved  every 
thing  in  relation  to  him.    If  he  spake  of  the 
glory  of  God,  he  represented  it  as  "  shining 
forth  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."    If  he  men- 
tioned the  promises  of  God,  they  were  all  yea 
and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus.    If  he  adverted  to 
the  duties  and  difficulties  of  the  Christian 


238 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF 


life,  he  said,  "  Be  strong  in  the  grace  that  is 
in  Christ  Jesus :"  "  I  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  who  strengthened  me."  He  could 
not  enforce  even  conjugal  tenderness  without 
a  reference  the  most  affecting:  "Husbands, 
love  your  wives,  even  as  Christ  also  loved 
the  church,  and  gave  himself  for  it."  May 
we  all  follow  an  example  so  worthy  of  imita- 
tion ;  and  whenever  in  our  work,  we  pause 
for  reflection,  may  our  consciences,  bearing 
witness  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  enable  us  also  to 
say,  "  Whom  we  preach,  warning  every  man 
and  teaching  every  man,  in  all  wisdom,  that 
we  may  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ 
Jesus." 

But,  that  you  may  be  a  savour  of  Christ, 
there  must  be  a  regard  to  the  manner,  as 
well  as  the  subject  of  your  preaching.  The 
poet,  in  speaking  of  government,  has  said, 

"  Whate'er  is  best  administer'!!  is  best." 
The  same  may  be  nearly  said  with  regard  to 
sermons.    There  is  not  such  a  marvellous 
difference  between  the  thoughts  and  arrange- 
ments of  one  preacher,  and  another,  as  some 
imagine.    But,  who  has  not  been  struck  with 
the  difference  of  the  impression,  and  effect  1 
One  man  shall  speak  ;  and  how  dry,  and  sap- 
less, and  uninteresting  is  he?    Let  another 
deliver  the  very  same  things,  and  there  is  a 
savour  that  gives  them  freshness :  the  things 
seem  perfectly  new.    To  know  how  to  ac- 
quire this,  is  a  secret  which  I  hope  you  are 
acquainted  with.    It  is  to  live  out  of  the  spi- 
rit of  the  world,  and  to  walk  much  with  God 
alone  ;  it  is  to  keep  conscience  alive  and 
awake;  it  is  to  maintain  a  deep  sense  of  the 
value  of  the  soul,  and  the  importance  of  eter- 
nal salvation ;  it  is  to  keep  the  mind  in  the 
things  of  God  by  habitual  meditation ;  it  is  to 
cherish  the  devotional  affections  ;  it  is  to 
speak  from  the  heart,  to  speak  experimentally, 
to  speak  under  a  mixture  of  solemn  and  ten- 
der feelings;  it  is  to  speak  with  the  Holy 
Ghost  sent  down  from  heaven,  in  answer  to 
strong  eryings  and  tears — When  such  a  man, 
and  under  such  an  influence,  engages  in  his 
work,  he  enters  his  congregation,  as  Aaron 
went  into  the  tabernacle  to  minister,  when 
the  precious  ointment  had  been  poured  upon 
his  head,  and  ran  down  to  the  skirts  of  his 
garment :  he  is  found,  before  he  is  either  seen 
or  heard:  and  we  think  of  our  Christian 
bard — 

When  one  thai  holds  communion  with  the  skies 
Has  fill'd  his  urn,  where  these  pure  waters  rise, 
And  once  more  mingles  with  us  meaner  things, 
'Tis  e'en  as  if  an  angel  shook  his  wings. 
Immortal  fragrance  fills  the  circuit  wide, 
That  tells  us  whence  kis  treasures  are  supplied. 
So  when  a  ship  well-freighted  with  the  stores 
The  sun  matures  on  India's  spicy  shores. 
Has  dropp'd  her  anchor,  and  her  canvass  furl'd. 
In  some  safe  haven  of  our  western  world; 
'Twere  vain  inquiring  to  what  port  she  went, 
The  gale  informs  us,  laden  with  the  scent. 

II.  Ministers  of  the  gospel  are  variously 
regarded.    We  may  consider  them  as  sus- 


taining a  three-fold  relation.  We  may  view 
them,  with  regard  to  God  ;  with  regard  to 
those  that  perish  ;  and  with  regard  to  those 
that  are  saved.  To  God,  they  are  a  sweet 
svaour  of  Christ.  To  them  that  perish,  they 
are  a  deadly  savour.  To  them  that  are 
saved,  they  are  a  vital  savour.  "  To  the  one, 
we  are  the  savour  of  death  unto  death,  and  to 
the  other,  we  are  the  savour  of  life  unto 
life !"  Let  us  reverse  this  order,  and  con- 
sider ministers, 

First,  In  relation  to  them  that  are  "  saved." 
To  these  they  are  the  savour  of  life  unto 
life.  They  are  not  only  instruments  of 
quickening  them,  when  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins,  but  of  sustaining,  and  increasing 
every,  vital  principle,  when  produced.  For 
such  ministers  appear  in  the  name,  and  offi- 
ciate on  the  behalf  of  him  who  said,  "  I  am 
come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that  they 
might  have  it  more  abundantly." 

Christianity  in  the  soul,  is  a  progressive 
thing :  and  the  dispensation  of  the  word,  is 
the  principal  means  by  which  believers  go 
from  strength  to  strength ;"  are  "  renewed 
day  by  day  ;"  are  "  changed  from  glory  into 
glory." 

The  grand  subject  of  the  ministry  enli- 
vens them  in  duty,  revives  them  in  depres- 
sion, and  supports  them  under  all  their  trials. 
Dr.  Watts  has  beautifully  expressed  it — 

The  vital  savour  of  his  name 

Restores  their  fainting  breath, 
While  unbelief  perverts  the  same 
To  guilt,  despair,  and  death. 

— When  pressed  down  by  a  recollection  of 
past  guilt,  and  a  sense  of  present  un worthi- 
ness and  imperfections,  they  are  only  kept 
from  utter  despondency,  by  hearing  that, 
"  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Je- 
sus Christ  the  righteous,  and  he  is  the  propi- 
tiation for  our  sins."  The  pollution  of  their 
holy  things  would  deprive  them  of  all  peace 
and  confidence  in  approaching  God  :  but  they 
"  have  boldness  to  enter  into  the  holiest  by 
the  blood  of  Jesus,  by  a  new  and  living  way, 
which  he  has  consecrated  for  us,  through  the 
veil,  that  is  to  say,  his  flesh." 

Harassed  with  the  cares,  and  worn  down 
with  the  toils  of  the  day,  the  poor  labourer 
repairs  in  the  evening  to  the  house  of  God, 
(and  there  ought  to  be  a  week-day  lecture  in 
every  place,  especially  for  the  sake  of  those 
whose  hearing  is  their  chief  religious  re- 
source) he  repairs  to  the  sanctuary  :  and  what 
can  refresh  him  there  !  What  can  interest 
him  !  What  can  make  him,  for  a  moment,  for- 
get the  low  scenes  of  earth,  and  feel  a  new 
creature '!  What  can  make  him  return  home 
with  delight,  and  enter  again  into  his  allotted 
course  with  cheerful  resignation  ?  It  is  "  The 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who,  though 
he  was  rich  yet  for  our  sakes  became  poor, 
that  we,  through  his  poverty,  might  be  rich." 
1  Take  the  Christian  in  circumstances  still 


AN  EVANGELICAL  MINISTRY. 


239 


more  trying ;  and  behold  him  after  a  week  of 
penury,  hardship,  and  trouble,  hailing  an 
evangelical  Sabbath : 

Though  pinch'd  with  poverty  at  home, 

With  sharp  afflictions  daily  fed, 
It  makes  amends  if  they  can  come, 

To  God's  own  house  for  heavenly  bread. 

How  happy,  if  their  lot  is  cast 
Where  statedly  the  gospel  sounds  ; 

The  word  is  honey  to  their  taste, 
Renews  their  strength,  and  heals  their  wounds. 

With  joy  they  hasten  to  the  place, 
Where  they  their  Saviour  oft  have  met. 

And  while  they  feast  upon  his  grace. 
Their  burdens  and  their  griefs  forget. 

And  long  as  this  quotation  is,  I  cannot  help 
adding; — 

This  happy  lot,  my  friends,  ia  your's, 

May  you  the  privilege  improve, 
And  find  these  consecrated  hours, 

Sweet  earnests  of  the  joys  above. 

It  is  thus,  that  Christians  are  "strengthened 
with  all  might  by  his  spirit  in  the  inner  man :" 
that  "  Christ  dwells  in  their' hearts  by  faith  :" 
that  "  being  rooted  and  grounded  in  love, 
they  are  able  to  comprehend  with  all  saints, 
what  is  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth, 
and  height :  and  to  know  the  love  of  Christ, 
which  passeth  knowledge,"  and  are  "  filled 
with  all  the  fulness  of  God.'"  Thus,  they 
are  led,  from  one  degree  of  divine  life  to  an- 
other ;  from  the  life  of  religious  infancy,  to 
the  life  of  manhood ;  from  the  life  of  desire,  to 
that  of  possession ;  from  the  life  of  hope,  to 
that  of  the  full  assurance  of  hope ;  from  the 
life  of  grace,  to  the  life  of  glory. 

For  at  length,  the  minister  is  called  to  at- 
tend his  charge,  in  their  last  remove.  The 
honour  of  religion,  and  the  encouragement 
of  others,  as  well  as  their  own  comfort,  make 
him  long,  that  those  whom  he  has  watched 
through  this  vale  of  tears,  may  finish  their 
course  with  joy  !  And  what  can  make  the 
saints  joyful  in  glory,  and  enable  them  to 
shout  aloud  upon  their  dying  bed  1  Does  he 
draw  a  comparison  in  their  favour,  between 
them  and  others  ]  Does  he  tell  them,  how 
inconsiderable  their  failings  have  been,  if  set 
against  their  excellencies  !  Does  he  call 
upon  them  to  look  back  upon  a  well-spent  life  ! 

This  would  only  drive  them  to  despair. 
Indeed  they  are  too  well  taught  of  God  to  ac- 
cept of  such  consolation,  if  it  were  offered.  If 
they  feel  a  confidence,  it  is  as  humble  as  it  is 
holy  :  it  is  derived  from  another  source.  "  I 
cannot  say  I  have  so  lived,"  said  Marshal 
when  dying,  "  that  I  am  not  afraid  to  die ;  but 
I  can  say,  I  have  so  learned  Christ,  that  I  am 
not  afraid  to  die." 

And  this  is  the  subject  to  which  the  minis- 
ter of  the  gospel  turns  the  believer's  atten- 
tion, amidst  the  decays  of  nature ;  and  with 
which  he  animates  him,  when  "his  heart 
and  his  flesh  faileth."  He  does  not  run  with 
the  crucifix  in  his  hand;  but  he  shows  him 
the  cross.    He  cries,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of 


God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world :" 
he  makes  "mention  of  his  righteousness 
only;"  he  talks  of  a  Saviour,  who  "died," 
that  we  may  "  sleep ;"  who  has  undertaken 
to  answer  for  us  in  the  great  day  of  account; 
who  is  gone  before  "  to  prepare  a  place  for 
us,"  and  is  engaged  to  "come  again,  and  re- 
ceive us  unto  himself;  that  where  he  is,  there 
we  may  be  also." 

This  is  the  glory  that  irradiates  the  dark 
valley.  This  is  the  odour  that  sheds  a  fra- 
grance in  a  dying  room,  and  in  a  dying  soul. 
This  is  the  sound,  O  Christian,  that  will 
answer  the  prayer  you  have  so  often  sung, 

And  may  the  music  of  his  name 
Refresh  my  soul  in  death. 

Let  us  consider  ministers, 

Secondly,  In  relation  to  them  that  "  perish." 
To  these,  they  are  the  savour  of  death  unto 
death.  The  meaning  is,  that  they  not  only 
find  them  dead,  but  leave  them  so — yea, 
leave  them — more  so.  They  are  the  occa- 
sion of  adding  to  their  spiritual  death ;  and 
of  enhancing  their  eternal. 

Let  me  open  a  little,  this  awful  part  of  our 
subject.  It  would  be  easy  to  prove  that 
punishment  will  be  answerable  to  guilt:  but 
guilt  is  aggravated  by  advantages  neglected 
or  abused.  Upon  this  principle,  the  Jews 
were  more  criminal  than  the  surrounding 
nations,  and  therefore  were  more  severely 
threatened :  "  You  only  have  I  known  of  all 
the  families  of  the  earth;  therefore,  you  will 
I  punish."  "To  him,"  says  the  apostle 
James,  "  that  knoweth  to  do  good,  and  doeth 
it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin ;"  which  means,  not 
only  or  principally,  that  omission  of  duty  is  a 
sin,  as  really  as  positive  transgression ;  but 
that  the  guilt  of  the  one,  as  well  as  the  other, 
is  increased  by  knowledge.  "If,"  says  our 
Saviour,  "  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  among 
them,  they  had  not  had  sin :"  i.  e.  compara- 
tively ;  "  but  now  have  they  no  cloak  for  their 
sin :"  i.  e.  they  are  left  stripped  of  all  excuse. 
"  The  servant  which  knew  his  lord's  will,  and 
prepared  not  himself,  neither  did  according 
to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes. 
But  he  that  knew  not,  and  did  commit  things 
worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten  with  few 
stripes.  For  unto  whomsoever  much  is  given, 
of  him  shall  be  much  required :  and  to  whom 
men  have  committed  much,  of  him  they  will 
ask  the  more."  And  again :  "  This  is  the  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  the  world, 
and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light, 
because  their  deeds  were  evil." 

Whom  should  the  conclusion  to  be  drawn 
from  these  premises,  alarm  ? — If, — as  an  old 
writer  says — there  are  many  mansions  in 
hell,  as  well  as  in  heaven,  "  What  shall  the 
end  be  of  them  that  obey  not  the  gospel  of 
God  1"  You  talk  of  heathens :  but  they  never 
heard  the  name  of  the  Saviour,  and,  having 
had  no  testimony  to  reject,  come  not  within 
the  reach  of  the  tremendous  sentence,  "  He 


240 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF 


that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  Leave 
them,  and  think  of  yourselves.  You  have 
often  heard,  with  a  shivering  horror,  of  the 
fate  of  Sodom.  The  inhabitants  were  "  sin- 
ners above  all  men  before  the  Lord :"  and  he 
would  not  suffer  them  to  be  buried,  lest  their 
wretched  bodies  should  pollute  the  rottenness 
of  the  grave,  but  consumed  them ;  and  "  They 
are  set  forth  for  an  example,  suffering  the 
vengeance  of  eternal  fire."  But  perhaps,  my 
dear  brother,  some  of  your  hearers  may  here- 
after exclaim,  O  that  I  had  been  born  in 
Sodom  !  O  that  I  had  perished  three  thousand 
years  earlier !  O  that  by  a  profusion  of  Di- 
vine, but  unsanctified  privileges,  I  had  never 
drawn  upon  myself  a  far  more  intolerable 
doom !  Is  this  talking  extravagance ;  or 
preaching  up  imaginary  terror  ?  What  was 
the  language  of  our  Lord  himself,  to  those 
that  enjoyed,  but  misimproved  his  preaching  1 
"And  thou,  Capernaum,  which  art  exalted 
unto  heaven,  shalt  be  cast  down  to  hell ;  for 
if  the  mighty  works,  which  have  been  done 
in  thee,  had  been  done  in  Sodom,  it  would 
have  remained  until  this  day.  But  I  say  unto 
you,  That  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the 
land  of  Sodom  in  the  day  of  judgment,  than 
for  thee." 

Did  you  never  observe  the  words  of  the 
apostle  to  the  Hebrews  ?  He  is  not  content 
to  ask,  "  How  shall  we  escape  if  we  neglect 
so  great  salvation  ?"  But  mark  his  language 
— "  He  that  despised  Moses'  law,  died  with- 
out mercy :"  observe  the  expression — without 
mercy !  "  under  two  or  three  witnesses :  of 
how  much  sorer  punishment"  (what  sorer 
than  dying  without  mercy !)  "  of  how  much 
sorer  punishment,  suppose  ye,  shall  he  be 
thought  worthy,  who  hath  trodden  under  foot 
the  Son  of  God,  and  hath  counted  the  blood 
of  the  covenant,  wherewith  he  was  sanctified, 
an  unholy  thing,  and  hath  done  despite  unto 
the  Spirit  of  Grace]"  You  have  read  of  the 
devil  and  his  angels.  Did  Christ  take  upon 
him  their  nature  1  Did  he  die  for  them  1 
Was  pardon,  was  holiness  ever  offered  to 
them'?  No:  and  therefore  they  have  never 
been  rejected — by  them.  No :  this  super- 
Satanic  guilt  lies  only  at  your  door.  Per- 
haps, my  dear  brother,  some  of  your  hearers 
may  hereafter  exclaim,  O  that  I  had  been  a 
fallen  angel !  O  that  before  the  creation  of 
the  world,  I  had  been  cast  down  to  hell,  and 
confined  in  chains  of  darkness  against  the 
judgment  of  the  great  day !  Any  chain  had 
been  a  blessing,  that  could  have  kept  me 
from  that  place  of  worship !  Even  hell  would 
have  proved  a  privilege,  had  it  prevented  me 
from  sitting  under  that  minister ! 

I  long  to  leave  this  part  of  my  subject;  but 
I  must  remark,  That  nothing  tends  to  con- 
firm our  faith  in  the  Scriptures  more,  than,  a 
comparison  of  what  we  see  with  what  we 
read.  How  often  do  we  find  unholy  attend- 
ants on  the  gospel,  after  a  while,  falling 


into  the  greatest  errors  or  the  vilest  crimes: 
sometimes,  they  become  persecutors;  and 
instances  are  not  wanting,  in  which  they 
have  ended  their  wretched  days,  in  frenzy  or 
desperation.  But  where  they  still  retain  a 
decency  of  character,  and  do  not  abandon  the 
means  of  grace,  they  grow  easy  and  insensi- 
ble, and  are  rarely  ever  awakened.  I'or, 
what  can  impress  those,  who  have  contrived 
to  sit  out  the  contents  of  the  Bible,  a  thou- 
sand times  over  ]  They  are  like  birds,  born 
and  bred  in  a  belfry,  which  start  not,  nor 
move  a  wing  at  sounds  which  would  stun 
strangers.  Some  of  this  hopeless  obduracy 
is  unquestionably  a  natural  effect ;  the  conse- 
quence of  long  familiarity  with  divine  things, 
trifling  with  convictions,  and  resisting  con- 
science: but  there  is  also  a  degree  of  penal 
judgment  in  it :  for  God  can  as  really  punish 
by  withholding  a  salutary  and  necessary  in- 
fluence, as  by  any  positive  infliction  :  and 
thus  fulfil  that  tremendous  declaration,  re- 
peated no  less  than  four  times  in  the  Scrip- 
ture :  "  Go  unto  this  people,  and  say,  Hear- 
ing ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand ; 
and  seeing  ye  shall  see,  and  not  perceive : 
for  the  heart  of  this  people  is  waxed  gross, 
and  their  ears  are  dull  of  hearing,  and  their 
eyes  have  they  closed ;  lest  they  should  see 
with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their  ears,  and 
understand  with  their  heart,  and  should  be 
converted,  and  I  should  heal  them."  But  let 
us  consider  ministers, 

Thirdly,  In  relation  to  God,  who  sends 
them,  and  to  whom  they  are  responsible.  To 
Him  they  are  a  sweet  savour  of  Christ; 
and  a  sweet  savour  of  Christ  both  in  them 

THAT  ARE  SAVED,  AND  IN  THEM  THAT  PERISH. 

He  accepts  them  and  delights  in  them,  not 
only  when  a  subject  opens  to  their  minds,  but 
when  (unless  they  have  been  negligent)  it 
seems  impenetrable  to  their  attempt ;  not  only 
when  they  preach  with  fluency  and  pleasure, 
but  when  (unless  they  have  been  inattentive 
to  means)  they  are  pained  with  embarrass- 
ment, and  ashamed,  as  they  come  down,  to 
look  their  hearers  in  the  face :  not  only  when 
they  add  to  the  church  characters  the  most 
hopeful ;  but  when,  with  bleeding  hearts  they 
exclude  disorderly  members :  not  only  when 
they  approach  God  at  the  head  of  a  list  of 
converts,  saying,  "  Behold,  the  children  thou 
hast  given  me,"  but  when  they  retire  into 
their  closets,  and  at  his  feet  exclaim,  "  Lord, 
who  hath  believed  our  report  ?" 

Success  is  desirable.  Who  loves  to  toil 
in  vain?  Who  loves  to  plant,  and  water, 
and  see  no  increase  1 — And  in  general,  God 
blesses  his  servants  with  some  considerable 
degree  of  usefulness.  But  a  useful  ministry 
is  not  necessary,  to  a  valid  one.  Our  Saviour 
himself  preached  with  very  little  effect :  "  I 
said  I  have  laboured  in  vain ;  I  have  spent 
my  strength  for  nought  and  in  vain :"  "  Yet," 
he  adds, "  yet  surely  my  judgment  is  with  the 


AN  EVANGELICAL  MINISTRY. 


241 


Lord,  and  my  work  with  my  God."    And  so 
may  every  minister  say,  under  discouraging 
appearances.    We  serve  a  good  master:  he 
does  not  make  us  answerable  for  success :  he 
knows  infinitely  better  than  we  do,  that  con- 
version is  his  own  prerogative,  and  does  not 
depend  upon  us.    Duty  only  is  ours ;  and 
even  with  regard  to  this,  he  allows  us  to  de- 
pend upon  him  for  ability  to  discharge  it ;  and 
in  estimating  our  services,  he  admits  into  the 
account,  not  only  all  we  do ;  but  all  we  try 
to  do,  and  wish  to  do,  but  in  which  we  are 
hindered ;  and  says,  "  It  was  well  that  it  was 
in  thy  heart."    The  language  of  promise  is, 
"Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I  will  give 
thee  a  crown  of  life."    We  go  further ;  we 
are  persuaded  that  there  are  many  cases  in 
which  ministers  are  dearer  to  God  in  their 
disappointments  than  in  their  successes.  It 
is  pleasant  to  labour  when  we  succeed ;  and 
there  is  always  some  danger,  lest  pride  should 
mix  with  our  pleasure,  and,  while  we  ac- 
knowledge God  to  be  the  author,  we  should 
feel  some  little  importance  at  least,  in  being 
the  instruments.    The  trial  of  principle  is  to 
labour  without  success.    To  bear  the  burden 
and  heat  of  the  day  without  murmuring ;  to 
abide  at  our  post  under  every  temptation  to 
leave  it ;  to  say,  If  he  is  pleased  to  use  me,  I 
shall  deem  it  an  honour;  but  if  he  refuse  me, 
I  have  no  reason  to  complain :  he  has  a  right 
to  choose  his  own  instruments :  to  be  willing 
to  lay  a  foundation  upon  which  another  is  to 
build ;  or  to  set  well,  as  another  rises,  and 
without  envy  or  regret,  to  say,  "  He  must 
increase  and  I  must  decrease" — here  is  the 
true  spirit  of  a  servant — here  is  real  great- 
ness in  the  sight  of  the  Lord — and  such  mag- 
nanimity shall  not  lose  its  reward. 

I  conclude  with  two  reflections,  forcibly 
derived  from  our  subject. 

First:  With  what  awful  impressions 
should  ministers  preach  !  The  office  of  a 
lawyer  is  important :  he  guards  our  property. 
The  office  of  a  physician  is  more  important : 
he  takes  care  of  our  health.  But  the  office 
of  a  minister,  is  unspeakably  the  most  im- 
portant of  all,  because  his  concern  lies  with 
the  soul.  The  consequences  which  flow 
from  his  labours,  are  the  issues  of  life  and 
death,  spiritual  life  and  death,  eternal  life 
and  death !  What  feelings  should  precede, 
accompany,  follow  every  sermon  we  deliver ! 
Is  there  a  minister  here  present,  that  can  re- 
flect for  a  moment  upon  the  greatness  of  his 
work,  and  not  exclaim — and  it  is  the  apos- 
tle's own  inference — "  Who  is  sufficient  for 
these  things  ]" 

Secondly:  With  what  solemn  impres- 
sions should  people  hear  !  Yet,  alas !  no- 
thing in  common,  is  so  little  reverenced,  as 
preaching.  With  what  a  careless  and  thought- 
less air,  are  persons  seen  entering  the  house 
of  the  Eternal,  and  leaving  it!  How  seldom 
do  hearers  retire,  and  reflect,  and  pray,  be- 
2  H  21 


fore  they  engage  in  the  service  of  God — or 
even  after !  When  do  they  listen  under  the 
word,  with  that  fearful  devoutness  which 
would  necessarily  result  from  such  a  sugges- 
tion as  this:  "I  shall  be  the  better,  or  worse, 
for  this  exercise.  It  will  leave  me  so  much 
nearer  heaven,  or  hell." 

Many  feel  a  kind  of  dread  at  the  thought 
of  an  improper  approach  to  the  table  of  the 
Lord,  having  read,  "  He  that  eateth  and 
drinketh  unworthily,  eateth  and  drinketh 
damnation  to  himself,  not  discerning  the 
Lord's  body."  But  do  you  never  consider, 
that  he  who  hears  unworthily,  exposes  him- 
self to  no  less  a  doom  ?  Every  unhallowed 
attendance  on  any  of  the  means  of  grace, 
must  issue  in  your  aggravated  sin  and 
misery.  You  dread  the  removal  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  allow  that  the  want  of  hearing  the 
words  of  the  Lord,  would  be  a  famine,  worse 
than  a  famine  of  bread :  but  perhaps,  you  ne- 
ver reflect,  that  as  the  ministry  may  be  with- 
drawn in  wrath,  it  may  also  be  continued  in 
judgment:  that  as  the  loss  of  the  means  of 
salvation  is  dreadful,  the  continuance  of  them 
is  much  more  so,  when  they  become  only  the 
enhancements  of  guilt  and  condemnation: 
you  have,  perhaps,  often  prayed  against  be- 
ing deprived  of  the  faculty  of  hearing,  but 
never  prayed  against  losing  the  grace  of  hear- 
ing— but  hearing  may  prove  a  greater  curse 
than  deafness. 

O  let  me  call  upon  you  seriously  to  consi- 
der this  with  regard  to  yourselves :  and  suf- 
fer me  to  ask,  What  is  your  prospect,  and 
what  is  your  condition?  Remember,  First, 
That  the  word  preached  is  never  universally 
— some  would  say — never  generally,  success- 
ful. That,  Secondly,  it  always  operates  in 
some  way,  and  it  is  impossible  to  render  it 
an  efficient  principle.  It  resembles  Moses, 
who  slew  the  Egyptian,  and  saved  the  Israel- 
ite. It  is  like  the  ark,  that  blessed  the  house 
of  Obededom,  and  plagued  the  Philistines.  It 
is  an  aliment,  that  nourishes,  or  poisons.  It 
is  a  medicine,  that  kills,  or  cures.  It  is  like 
the  planet ;  sometimes  the  bright  and  morn- 
ing star,  ushering  in  the  day ;  and  sometimes 
the  harbinger  of  night,  drawing  on  the  black- 
ness of  darkness  for  ever.  Thirdly,  There 
are  but  two  classes  of  hearers;  believers  and 
unbelievers;  children  of  wrath,  or  heirs  of 
glory.  To  which  of  these  do  you  belong  1 
Here  are  great  diversities  of  talent  and  con- 
dition; here  are,  male  and  female;  old  and 
young ;  masters  and  servants ;  rich  and  poor ; 
the  educated  and  the  illiterate. — But  the  dis- 
tinction of  our  text,  enters  and  sees  among 
you  all,  two  divisions  only.  And  what,  if  an 
angel,  next  Lord's-day,  while  you  are  wor- 
shipping, was  to  come  down,  and  make  the 
separation  as  visible  as  it  is  real.  Suppose 
he  should  place  here,  on  the  right  hand,  those 
to  whom  the  word  is  a  savour  of  life :  and 
there,  on  the  left  hand,  those  to  whom  it  is 


THE  IMPORTANCE,  &c. 


the  savour  of  death.  With  what  anxiety 
would  the  minister  rise,  and  stand,  and  look 
down  from  this  desk,  and  wait  the  discrimi- 
nation. How  would  the  hearts  of  religious 
friends  and  relations  break,  as  they  viewed 
the  objects  of  their  regard  led  away  with  the 
rejected.  "  There  goes  my  brother — my  sis- 
ter— my  parent — my  child — my  husband — 

my  wife !"  What  an  unequal  division  ! 

How  small  the  one !  how  large  the  other ! 
How  different  the  result  from  previous  con- 
jecture and  conviction!  Some,  who  had 
feared  to  make  a  profession  of  religion,  and 
hesitated  to  speak  of  the  state  of  their  souls, 
only  lest  they  should  have  uttered  what  they 
never  felt ;  who,  for  want  of  room  to  retire  in, 
often  took  a  more  distant  and  solitary  walk 
to  the  house  of  God,  praying  as  they  went, 
"  Send  us  help  from  the  sanctuary,  and 
strengthen  us  out  of  Zion :"  would  rank  safe 
and  happy  :  while,  joined  to  the  lost,  would 
be  found  some,  who  had  attended  the  gospel 


from  their  infancy ;  some,  who  had  often  wel- 
comed ministers  to  their  table;  perhaps  mem- 
bers— perhaps  officers  of  the  church !  But  in 
which  of  these  classes,  I  address  you  indivi- 
dually, would  you  be  found  ?  It  is  not  in- 
deed likely  that  such  a  discrimination  will 
be  made  in  this  world.  It  does  not  comport 
with  the  wisdom  of  God's  design.  You  will 
therefore  continue  externally  blended  for  a 
season.  But  the  awful  hour  is  at  hand,  when 
the  separation  must  be  made,  unerringly 
made,  publicly  made,  irreversibly  made.  It 
is  already  obvious  in  the  view  of  God.  It  is 
already  actually  commenced,  commenced  in 
the  principles  and  dispositions  which  govern 
you,  and  in  the  manner  in  which  you  hear 
and  receive  the  word.  Again  I  ask,  To 
which  of  these  divisions  do  you  belong  1  It 
is  possible  to  determine.  It  is  necessary.  We 
press  for  a  decision :  and  leave  conscience  to 
receive  your  reply. 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS : 


A  SERMON 


OCCASIONED  BY 


THE  DEATH  OF  MISS  ANN  WHITCHURCH, 


DELIVERED  IN  ARGYLE  CHAPEL,  BATH,  OCTOBER  18,  1818. 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

Thi8  Sermon,  which  the  Author,  feeling  a  wish  to  improve  an  affecting  event,  preached 
without  solicitation ;  he  publishes  entirely  at  request — the  request  of  the  relatives  and  the 
audience.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  in  the  reading,  it  will  want  much  of  the  impression  which, 
from  a  number  of  auxiliary  causes,  it  made  in  the  hearing.  He  mentions  this  to  account  for 
probable  disappointment — not  by  way  of  apology.  The  wishes  of  his  friends  are  responsible 
for  the  Discourse,  such  as  it  is :  to  them  he  affectionately  dedicates  it,  concerned  only  that 
indisposition  and  peculiar  engagements  prevented  his  performing  this  duty  of  friendship  im- 
mediately. In  coming  from  the  press,  it  differs  only  as  it  came  from  the  pulpit,  in  a  little 
enlargement  originally  in  the  Author's  design,  but  which  he  had  not  time  to  avail  himself  of, 
in  the  delivery. 


Behold,  he  taketh  away,  who  can  hinder  him  ? 
■who  will  say  unto  him,  what  doest  thou  ? — 
Job  Lx.  12. 

My  brethren,  it  always  highly  becomes  us 
to  entertain  proper  apprehensions  of  him 
"  with  whom  we  have  to  do."  He  is,  indeed, 
"  a  God  that  hideth  himself."  "  He  dwelleth 
in  the  light  which  no  man  can  approach  unto, 
and  him  no  man  hath  seen,  or  can  see." 
There  are  heights,  and  depths,  and  breadths, 
and  lengths  in  his  essence,  and  attributes,  and 
works,  and  ways,  which  elude  all  created,  all 
finite  research :  and  we  may  go  to  an  arch- 
angel with  the  question  Eliphaz  addressed  to 
Job:  "Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out 
God :  canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  unto 
perfection  V 

Are  we  then  sealed  up  in  total  ignorance  1 
Are  we  called  to  worship  "an  unknown 
God  V  No :  He  has  not  left  himself  without 
witness.  His  word  is  "a  lamp  unto  our  path, 
and  a  light  unto  our  feet."  As  far  as  our 
state  requires  information,  He  has  given  us  a 
revelation  of  himself  in  this  sacred  volume; 
and  it  is  both  our  duty  and  our  privilege,  to 
assume  with  thankfulness,  and  to  hold  with 


inviolable  firmness,  the  views  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  it  holds  forth — for  they  will  of  neces- 
sity be  fundamental  in  religion — and  all  our 
creed,  all  our  conduct,  and  all  our  comfort 
must  be  affected  by  them. 

His  dispensations  with  regard  to  nations, 
families,  and  individuals,  are  various.  In 
some  of  them  he  thunders;  in  others,  we 
hear  only  a  small  still  voice.  Some  of  them 
call  us  to  rejoice;  others  to  mourn.  Some 
enrich  us ;  others  impoverish.  In  some,  He 
gives ;  in  others,  He  takes  away. — But  He  is 
the  same  in  all ;  and  all  are  worthy  of  our  at- 
tention. If  there  be  a  difference,-  it  is  in  fa- 
vour of  his  more  awful  and  painful  dealings 
with  us.  These  peculiarly  deserve  and  de- 
mand our  regard.  In  these  he  seems  to  move 
out  of  his  common  road,  in  order  to  awaken 
and  impress  the  mind.  Our  food  is  intended 
to  do  us  good — but  how  much  more  our  me- 
dicine? When  this  is  administered  in  vain, 
our  case  begins  to  be  considered  suspicious, 
alarming,  desperate.  There  is  nothing,  there- 
fore, by  which  we  can  more  defy  and  provoke 
the  God  of  the  whole  earth,  than  while  he  is 
employing  methods  so  extraordinarily  de- 
243 


244 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


signed  and  adapted  to  affect  us,  we  "  regard 
not  the  work  of  the  Lord,"  neither  consider 
the  operation  of  his  hand.  "  Hear  ye,  there- 
fore," says  the  voice  from  heaven,  "Hear  ye 
the  rod,  and  Him  that  hath  appointed  it." 
"In  the  day  of  adversity,  consider."  "Be- 
hold" Him  in  all  he  does ;  but  most  attentively 
and  seriously  contemplate  Him  when  he 
comes  to  take  away.    "  Behold,  he  taketh 

AWAY,  WHO  CAN  HINDER  HIM  ?  WHO  WILL  SAY 
UNTO  HIM,  WHAT  DOEST  THOU  ? 

It  appears  from  this  passage,  that  in  the 
losses  of  life,  we  are  to  recognize  and  ac- 
knowledge— The  truth  of  his  agency — The 
uncontrolableness  of  h  is  dominion — and — The 
unimpeachableness  of  his  conduct. 

The  truth  of  his  agency — "He  taketh 
away." 

The  uncontrolableness  of  his  dominion — 
"  Who  can  hinder  him]" 

The  unimpeachableness  of  his  conduct — 
"  Who  will  say  unto  him,  What  doest  Thou  ?" 

I.  Behold,  the  truth  of  his  agency.  "  He 
taketh  away."  It  is  obvious  that  our  hold  of 
every  possession  and  enjoyment  is  very  pre- 
carious, and  that  our  comforts  lie  at  the  dis- 
posal of  another.  This  conclusion  depends 
not  on  reasonings ;  it  results  from  facts  :  scrip- 
ture is  not  necessary  to  teach  it ;  all  history, 
all  observation,  all  experience  proclaims  it. 

Wealth  is  often  taken  away.  Men  make 
gold  their  hope,  and  fine  gold  their  confi- 
dence ;  but  nothing  is  more  precarious ;  they 
are  therefore  called,  "  uncertain  riches;"  and 
we  are  commanded  not  to  "  trust  in  them." 
How  many  after  devising  the  best  plans,  and 
availing  themselves  of  every  assistance  that 
could  promise  success,  are  groaning  over 
their  defeated  projects — "  My  purposes  are 
broken  off,  even  the  thoughts  of  my  heart." 
How  many  are  not  only  in  embarrassments,  but 
have  their  indigence  imbittered  by  contrast 
with  the  plenty  that  once  crowned  their  table. 

Health  is  often  taken  away.  "  Let  not  the 
strong  man  glory  in  his  strength."  What 
is  it  against  the  decays  of  nature,  the  vio- 
lence of  accident,  the  corrosion  of  disease? 
"  When  Thou  with  rebukes  dost  correct  man 
for  iniquity,  Thou  makest  his  beauty  to  con- 
sume away  like  a  moth;  surely  every  man  is 
vanity." 

Reason  is  often  taken  away.  No  condition, 
however  elevated,  secures  the  possessor.  Ne- 
buchadnezzar's understanding  departed  from 
him ;  and  in  his  fancies  and  feelings  he  was 
reduced  to  a  level  with  the  beasts  that  perish. 
How  many  in  our  own  day  in  the  higher, 
yea,  in  the  highest  ranks  of  life  have  become 
the  victims  of  this  dire  calamity. 

— And  are  not  connexions  and  relatives 
often  taken  away  ?  Is  there  a  person  in  the 
presence  of  God,  who  has  not  had  reason  to 
sigh,  "  Lover  and  friend  hast  Thou  put  far 
from  me,  and  mine  acquaintance  into  dark- 
ness."   It  is  needless  to  enlarge  the  illustra- 


tion. It  is  undeniable  that  our  possessions 
and  comforts  are  holden  by  a  very  precarious 
tenure ;  and  are  removable  at  the  pleasure  of 
another. 

And  who  is  the  disposer?  Who  is  He 
that  thus  intermeddles  with  our  affairs,  and 
lays  desolate  our  comforts.  "  Behold  He 
taketh  away."  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
chance  in  his  empire.  His  providence  is  not 
only  real  but  universal.  "  A  sparrow  falleth 
not  to  the  ground  without  our  heavenly  Fa- 
ther ;  Yea,  the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  all 
numbered." — "  Who  gave  Jacob  for  a  spoil, 
and  Israel  to  the  robbers?  Did  not  the  Lord; 
he  against  whom  they  have  sinned  ?"  War 
is  called  "  His  sword."  He  "  calls  for  a 
famine  upon  the  land,"  and  "  cleanness  of 
teeth"  stalks  through.  He  "breaketh  the 
ships  of  Tarshish  with  an  east  wind."  "I 
clothe,"  says  He,  "the  heavens  with'  sack- 
cloth," "  I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness : 
I  make  peace  and  create  evil :  I  the  Lord  do 
all  these  things."  "  Is  there  an  evil  in  the 
city,  and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it?" 

Not  that  God,  in  these  cases  always  acts 
immediately — He  commonly,  if  not  invaria- 
bly, works  otherwise.  In  things  purely 
spiritual,  and  where  the  result  is  so  mani- 
festly his  own,  he  uses  means  to  produce 
it.  Paul  plants  and  Apollos  waters,  though 
He  giveth  the  increase,  and  worketh  all  in 
all.  And  thus  it  is  in  temporal  things ;  in- 
struments are  employed :  but  instrumentali- 
ty supposes  and  requires  agency — and  re- 
quires it,  whatever  ability  or  adaptation  it 
possesses : — for  however  keen  the  sword,  or 
excellent  the  pen,  the  one  cannot  wound,  or 
the  other  write,  without  a  hand  to  use  it. 
All  events,  and  all  creatures,  depend  upon 
God;  and  they  can  neither  bless  or  injure  us, 
but  as  he  permits,  employs,  succeeds  them. 

Hence  too  his  interposition  is  not  visible. 
He  really  does  all,  but  seems  to  do  nothing. 
His  agency,  though  obvious  enough  in  its 
results,  is  imperceptible  in  its  working.  Thus 
it  is  with  the  wind ;  we  cannot  see  it  pass, 
but  we  can  see  its  passage,  and  trace  the  di- 
rection of  its  progress  in  its  effects.  Read 
the  preceding  verse :  "  Lo,  he  goeth  by  me, 
and  I  see  him  not ;  he  passeth  on  also,  but  I 
perceive  him  not." 

God  rarely  makes  use  of  the  marvellous,  or 
acts  so  as  to  alter  the  regular  and  established 
order  of  things.  His  agency  sometimes  in- 
deed resembles  a  torrent  which  sweeps  over 
an  unusual  surface,  and  bears  down  cattle, 
and  trees,  and  houses,  and  as  it  rolls  and  roars 
along,  draws  people  to  the  margin  with 
amazement  and  dismay :  but  he  more  com- 
monly brings  his  designs  to  pass  in  a  manner 
more  slow  and  tranquil,  and  unobserved,  re- 
sembling the  flow  of  a  river  that  keeps  its 
own  channel,  and  reaches  its  fulness  by  a 
course  as  natural  as  it  is  efficient.  It  is  a 
fine  image,  the  genius  of  Solomon  employs, 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


245 


when  he  says,  "  The  king's  heart  is  in  the 
hand  of  the  Lord,  as  the  rivers  of  water :  He 
turneth  it  whithersoever  he  will."  The 
husbandman  does  not  change  the  quality  but 
the  current  of  the  stream :  it  still  flows  ac- 
cording to  its  natural  propension,  yet  runs 
under  his  guidance,  and  in  subserviency  to 
his  pleasure.   Thus  agents  act  of  themselves; 
yet  are  his  servants :  they  follow  their  own 
inclination,  but  fulfil  his  purposes.    This  fact 
misconceived,  has  led  infidels  to  deny  the 
providence  of  God  in  the  events  of  the  world ; 
and  even  philosophers  the  most  convinced  of 
the  existence  of  God,  from  the  appearance  of 
relations,  beauties,  and  utilities  in  the  parts 
of  the  universe,  have  disavowed  the  hand  of 
God  in  the  management  of  human  affairs,  be- 
lieving that  "  time  and  chance  happened  to 
them  all."    The  reason  of  the  inconsistency 
seems  to  be  this.    In  the  fixed  system  of  na- 
ture they  see  creatures  acting  in  a  constant 
and  uniform  manner ;  but  these  being  purely 
passive  in  themselves,  must  be  determined 
and  conducted  by  a  foreign  power;  and  a 
presiding  agency  cannot  be  questioned.  But 
in  human  life  they  meet  with  beings,  who 
are  masters  of  their  own  conduct,  and  act  by 
knowledge  and  choice ;  possessing  boundless 
liberty,  and  capricious  dispositions;  sometimes 
governed  by  principle,  sometimes  by  exam- 
ple, sometimes  by  fancy,  sometimes  by  pride, 
and  sometimes  by  malice ;  and  not  able  to 
distinguish  between  the  first  cause,  and  the 
subordinate  issues;  the  chief  agent  and  the 
instrument;  the  perfection  of  the  Creator, 
and  the  weakness  and  folly  of  the  creature ; 
they  adhere  to  the  immediate  and  apparent 
principle  of  action,  without  ascending  to  God, 
who  presides  over  all,  inspiring  the  good, 
permitting  the  evil,  and  reducing  the  whole 
to  his  own  pleasure. 

And  indeed  if  sense  only  was  to  be  con- 
sulted, we  should  seldom  think  of  God  in  the 
most  trying  occurrences.  To  find  a  cause 
for  the  affliction  of  Joseph,  why  need  we  go 
beyond  the  envy  of  his  brethren  ]  Or  a  rea- 
son for  the  cursing  of  David,  why  need  we 
look  further  than  the  malignity  of  Shimei  ? 
Or  a  motive  for  the  crucifixion  of  the  Son  of 
God,  what  want  we  more  than  the  jealousy 
of  the  chief  priests,  and  the  wickedness  of 
the  Jews  !  Who  at  the  first  sight  of  all 
these,  would  not  have  ascribed  them  to  hu- 
man agency  ?  Yet,  "  God  sent  me  here," 
says  Joseph,  "to  save  much  people  alive." 
"  God  hath  bidden  him,"  says  David.  And, 
"He  was  delivered,"  says  the  apostle,  "ac- 
cording to  the  determinate  counsel  and  fore- 
knowledge of  God." 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  rise  above 
sense,  and  to  call  in  the  aid  of  that  faith 
which  is  not  only  "  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for,"  but  "  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen."  And  this  will  be  found  to  constitute 
21* 


the  difference  between  the  natural  man  and 
the  Christian.  The  former  is  no  better  at 
heart  than  an  atheist :  he  is  without  Cod  in 
the  world :  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts.  A 
Christian  only  is  the  true  theist.  He  is  the 
only  firm  and  vital  believer  in  the  being  and 
empire  of  God.  But  he  does  believe  in  them. 
He  walks  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight.  He  is 
aspiring  after  a  world,  where  "  God  is  all  in 
all,"  and  to  this  state  he  is  already  in  a  mea- 
sure come.  He  has  begun  to  see,  and  hear, 
and  realize  God.  He  acknowledges  Him  in 
all  his  ways  ;  and  when  others  say,  "  O  it  was 
that  unlucky  accident ;  it  was  that  unfortu- 
nate servant;  it  was  that  perfidious  friend;  it 
was  that  deadly  enemy" — He  cries  with  Eli, 
"  It  is  the  Lord,"  and  endeavours  to  add, 
"  Let  Him  do  what  seemeth  him  good."  I 
pity  the  man  who  in  the  day  of  evil,  is  the 
wretch,  of  events  without  author  or  design  ; 
and  finds  himself  left  alone  with  a  heartless 
world,  with  blind  chance,  with  his  own  evil 
temper,  and  with  the  demons  of  impatience 
and  unbelief. — The  Christian  feels  himself 
still  with  God,  "  even  his  own  God  ;"  and  his 
presence  enlightens  all  that  is  gloomy,  re- 
lieves all  that  is  depressing ;  brings  beauty 
out  of  confusion,  and  turns  evil  into  good. 
Thus  it  was  with  Jesus  who  suffered  for  us, 
leaving  us  an  example  that  we  should  follow 
his  steps.  He  foreknew  all  the  circumstances 
of  his  trial,  and  all  the  instruments  of  his 
pain — He  saw  Judas  betraying  him ;  Peter 
denying  him ;  his  disciples  forsaking  him ; 
Herod  mocking  him  ;  Pilate  condemning  him; 
the  soldiers  nailing  him  to  the  cross;  the  po- 
pulace insulting  him — He  saw  it  all — yet  he 
saw  nothing  but  God :  "  The  cup  which  my 
Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it !" 
We  are  to  behold 

II.  The  uncontrolableness  of  his  dominion. 
— "  Who  can  hinder  Him  1" 

Can  the  man  of  power  7    There  i3  no 
power  but  of  God ;  and  what  he  imparts,  he 
can  with  infinite  ease  recall,  or  defeat. — 
What  a  degree  of  force  and  influence  have 
some  individuals  possessed  and  exerted. — 
When  the  late  emperor  of  France  led  his  un- 
paralleled army  into  Russia,  he  seemed  more 
than  mortal.  He  felt  the  presumption  of  con- 
fidence himself,  for  he  said,  "Are  not  my 
princes  altogether  kings,  is  not  Calno  asCar- 
chemish  1 — Is  not  Hamath  as  Arpad  .' — Is  not 
Samaria  as  Damascus!" — What  can  with- 
stand him  1    "  He  sendeth  abroad  his  ice  like 
morsels.    Who  can  stand  before  his  cold  V — 
"  How  art  thou  fallen,  O  Lucifer,  son  of  the 
morning ! — How  art  thou  cut  down  to  the 
ground  which  didst  weaken  the  nations  !  for 
thou  saidest  in  thine  heart,  I  will  ascend  into 
heaven,  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the 
stars  of  God :  I  will  sit  also  upon  the  mount 
of  the  congregation  in  the  sides  of  the  north." 
We  read  of  "  an  innumerable  company  of 


246 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


angels,"  and  they  are  called  his  mighty  an-  < 
gels— 

The  least  of  which  could  wield  these  elements. 

One  of  them  in  a  single  night  entered  the 
camp  of  Sennacherib,  and  destroyed  an  hun- 
dred and  eighty-five  thousand:  another  at 
midnight,  passed  through  the  whole  land  of 
Egypt,  and  slew  in  every  house  the  first-born. 
— An  insect  in  his  hand  would  be  omnipo- 
tent.— There  have  been  four  great  monarch- 
ies in  the  world,  and  each  of  them  for  the 
time  seemed  too  firmly  established  to  be 
rooted  up.  But  in  vain  the  Babylonian  said, 
I  will  keep  my  throne;  the  Persian,  I  will 
keep  my  state ;  the  Macedonian,  I  will  retain 
my  glory ;  and  the  Roman,  I  will  retain  my 
dominion.  He  took  them  all  away,  and 
trampled  them  under  foot  as  the  mire  in  the 
street. 

Can  the  man  of  policy  1  There  have  been 
persons  endowed  with  extraordinary  pru- 
dence and  penetration.  They  have  seen 
effects  in  their  distant  causes  ;  they  have 
detected  the  undeveloped  designs  of  an  adver- 
sary ;  and  made  them,  as  soon  as  they  began 
to  operate,  the  very  means  of  effecting  their 
own  scheme.  "  But  there  is  no  wisdom,  nor 
understanding,  nor  counsel  against  the  Lord." 
"  The  wisdom  of  the  world  is  foolishness  with 
God  ;  as  it  is  written,  He  taketh  the  wise  in 
their  own  craftiness.  And  again,  the  Lord 
knoweth  the  thoughts  of  the  wise,  that  they 
are  vain." 

Can  the  man  of  prayer  1  Prayer  has 
power  with  God.  Prayer  has  sometimes  met 
Him  as  Abigail  met  David,  and  induced  him 
to  put  up  his  sword  into  its  sheath.  "There- 
fore he  said,  that  he  would  destroy  them,  had 
not  Moses,  his  chosen,  stood  before  him  in  the 
breach,  to  turn  away  his  wrath,  lest  he  should 
destroy  them." — But  prayer,  even  prayer 
cannot  avail,  when  the  time  to  execute  his 
judgments,  yea  the  set  time  is  come. 
"  Though  Moses  and  Samuel  stood  before  me, 
yet  my  mind  could  not  be  toward  this  people : 
cast  them  out  of  my  sight,  and  let  them  go 
forth."  He  answers  prayer ;  but  not  so  as  to 
derange  the  system  of  nature,  and  the  econo- 
my of  Providence.  He  answers  prayer — yet 
when  he  has  been  taking  away,  who  has  not 
tried  its  efficacy,  and  found  its  success  limited 
to  our  support  under  the  suffering,  but  not 
affording  exemption  from  it. 

Can  the  hearer  1  Strong  is  the  regard  we 
feel  for  the  man  who  has  "  begotten  us  in 
Christ  by  the  gospel,"  who  has  fed  us  with 
"the  bread  of  life;"  who  has  led  us  "in  the 
way  everlasting ;"  and  comforted  us  in  all  our 
tribulation.  But  in  vain  we  hang  upon  his 
lips.  Those  lips  must  be  silenced  in  the 
grave. — How  many  ministers,  regardless  of 
the  tears  of  a  church,  raised  by  their  labours, 
and  apparently  depending  upon  their  ability 
and  zeal,  have  been  taken  away  in  the  vigour 


of  their  days,  and  the  midst  of  their  usefulness. 
Moses,  the  servant  of  the  Lord  must  die :  and 
all  they  among  whom  Paul  has  gone  preach- 
ing the  kingdom  of  God,  must  see  his  face  no 
more. — Who  can  hinder  him 1 

— Cannot  the  wife — the  children!  Can- 
not they  hinder  the  removal  of  the  husband, 
the  father — cannot  they  hinder  it,  when  the 
loss  will  reduce  her  from  ease  to  anxiety,  and 
toil,  and  dependence  ;  and  scatter  them  abroad 
uneducated,  unprovided  for,  exposed  to  injus- 
tice and  treated  with  insult  1  No.  "  Leave 
thy  fatherless  children  :  I  will  preserve  them 
alive,  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me." — Who 
can  hinder  him  1 

Cannot  the  lover!  There  is  something 
very  delightful  and  interesting  in  virtuous 
affection.  "  Marriage  is  honourable  in  all ;" 
and  God  himself  has  pronounced  that  "  it  is 
not  good  for  man  to  be  alone." — He  who  has 
sanctioned  the  end,  arranges  the  means. — We 
see  each  other ;  we  intermingle — some  per- 
sonal charm ;  some  intellectual  or  moral  at- 
traction ;  some  undefined,  undefinable  quality, 
perhaps  imperceptible  to  another,  seizes  and 
fixes  the  admirer's  mind — we  give  up  our- 
selves to  the  impression — and  the  time  of 
union  is  reckoned  upon,  as  the  consummation 
of  happiness. 

 What  is  the  world  to  them  ? 

Its  pomp,  its  pleasures  and  its  nonsense  all 
Who  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  fair 
High  fancy  forms,  and  lavish  hearts  can  wish  ; 
Something  than  beauty  dearer — should  they  look 
Or  on  the  mind,  or  mind  illumined  face, 
Truth,  goodness,  honour,  harmony,  and  love, 
The  richest  bounty  of  indulgent  Heaven.  — 

But  alas,  instead  of  marriage  rites,  behold 
funeral  solemnities  ! — Who  can  hinder  Him? 

Can  the  husband  1  The  husband  ought  to 
feel  much  more  attached  than  the  lover.  To 
him,  the  companion  of  his  days  has  actually 
surrendered  herself — For  him  she  has  passed 
through  pains  and  perils — She  lives  but  for 
him,  and  those  dear  pledges  of  affection  which 
bear  his  name,  and  his  image. — Her  worth 
he  has  tried,  and  proved  and  acknowledged. — 

O  happy  they !  the  happiest  of  their  kind      [blend : 
Whose  hearts,  whose  fortune,  and  whose  beings 
'Tis  not  the  coarser  ties  of  human  laws 
Unnatural  oft,  and  foreign  to  the  mind 
That  binds  their  peace :  but  harmony  itself 
Attuning  all  their  passions  into  love. 
There  friendship  sweet  exerts  her  softest  power 
Perfect  esteem,  enlivened  by  desire 
Ineffable  and  sympathy  of  soul : 
Thought  meeting  thought,  and  will  preventing  will 
With  boundless  confidence — for  nought  but  love 
Can  answer  love,  and  render  bliss  secure? 

— And  can  this  ?  "  Son  of  man  behold  I 
take  from  thee  the  desire  of  thine  eyes  with 
a  stroke — and  behold  at  evening  my  wife 
died." 

i  But  cannot  parents  1  "Lo  !  children  are  an 
:  heritage  of  the  Lord,  and  the  fruit  of  the 
womb  is  his  reward."  We  view  them  as  our 
,  treasures,  and  say  to  each  inquirer,  "  These 
1  are  the  children  which  God  hath  graciously 
•  given  thy  servant."   With  a  joy  which 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


247 


strangers  intermeddle  not  with,  we  see  them 
"  growing  in  wisdom  and  in  stature."  Every 
day  some  latent  power  or  quality  seems  to 
unfold  itself.  We  watch  the  tottering  steps 
till  they  become  a  walk ;  and  listen  to  their 
lisping,  till  with  distinctness  they  can  cry 
"  My  father  and  my  mother."  We  look  for- 
ward and  indulge  in  the  fondness  of  hope, 
and  the  visions  of  fancy.  We  expect  to  find 
in  them,  our  companions,  the  ornaments  of 
our  family,  the  support  of  our  age,  and  the 
hands  that  shall  close  the  eyes  that  first 
sparkled  on  them  with  pleasure. — But  while 
we  are  exceeding  glad  because  of  the  gourd, 
some  worm  is  preymg  at  the  root — and  after 
a  few  months  or  years,  we  turn  to  the  com- 
mon spoiler,  and  say,  "  Me  hast  thou  be- 
reaved of  my  children ;  Joseph  is  not ;  and 
Simeon  is  not — and  wilt  thou  take  Benjamin 
away — all  these  things  are  against  me." 

III.  We  are  to  contemplate  the  unim- 
peachableness  of  his  conduct .'  Who  will 
say  unto  Him,  what  doest  Thou  ?  He  is  not 
to  be  arraigned,  or  argued  with,  or  examined. 
— To  restrain  a  man  however  from  all  this 
freedom  with  God,  a  threefold  conviction  is  ne- 
cessary :  a  conviction  of  his  supremacy :  a  con- 
viction of  his  rectitude :  and  a  conviction  of 
his  wisdom. 

First.  A  conviction  of  his  supremacy. 
A  father  may  come  upon  a  child  and  say  what 
doest  thou  7  But  does  it  become  a  child  to 
say  this  to  a  parent  1  Seeing  your  servant 
at  work  in  the  field  or  the  garden,  you  have 
surely  a  right  to  interrogate  him :  but  what 
would  you  think  if  he  should  in  like  manner 
question  you  ?  "  Where  the  word  of  a  king 
is,  there  is  power,  and  who  can  say  unto 
Him,  what  doest  Thou  ?  With  regard,  indeed 
to  an  earthly  king,  this  reasoning  may  be 
pushed  too  far ;  and  it  often  has  been  abused 
by  courtiers,  and  the  advocates  for  non-resist- 
ance and  passive  obedience  ;  who  consider  a 
king  as  incapable  of  doing  wrong,  or  amena- 
ble to  God  only  for  his  doings.  But  a  king 
is  for  his  people.  When  he  speaks  the  law, 
he  speaks  as  a  king,  and  his  orders  are  to  be 
obeyed,  and  not  to  be  disputed  or  debated. 
But  when  he  speaks  against  law  or  above 
it,  he  only  speaks  as  a  man,  and  his  mandates 
are  no  longer  unquestionable.  But  God  is  a 
Sovereign,  in  such  a  sense,  as  no  mortal 
either  is,  or  can  be.  We  are  absolutely  and 
entirely  his :  and  He  has  a  right  to  do  what 
he  will  with  his  own.  "  Be  still,"  there- 
fore, says  He,  "  and  know  that  I  am  God." 
This  was  the  consideration  by  which  David 
hushed  his  passions  into  silence :  "  I  was 
dumb;  I  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  Thou 
didst  it." 

Secondly.  A  conviction  of  his  rectitude. 
The  sovereignty  of  God  is  never  to  be  con- 
founded with  arbitrariness.  Whatever  He 
does,  He  does  it  "  because  it  seemeth  good 
in  his  sight."   He  feels  no  evil  bias,  and 


forms  no  design  but  infinite  purity  and  bene- 
volence approve.  He  is  holy  in '  all  ways, 
and  righteous  in  all  his  works.  Even  when 
He  strips  me,  He  does  not  defraud.  He 
comes,  not  as  a  robber,  but  as  a  proprietor 
only,  to  reclaim  his  own.  "  I  know  that  his 
judgments  are  right,  and  that  in  faithfulness 
He  afflicts  me."  "  Is  there  unrighteousness 
with  God  ]  How  then  can  God  judge  the 
world  ?  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
do  right  ?" 

Thirdly.  A  conviction  of  his  wisdom. 
A  man  may  mean  well,  and  scorn  to  do  an 
unworthy  action,  yet,  he  may  err :  he  may  be 
weak ;  he  may  be  imposed  upon  by  appear- 
ances ;  he  may  be  drawn  aside  by  artifice,  and 
thus  be  guilty  of  very  foolish,  hazardous,  and 
injurious  conduct.  Let  the  ability  of  a  fellow- 
creature  be  what  it  may,  it  is  always  limited, 
and  imperfect ;  and  therefore  I  can  never  give 
him  such  implicit  confidence  as  precludes  the 
propriety  or  necessity  of  investigation.  But 
such  confidence  in  God  is  more  than  justified, 
because  his  understanding  is  infinite.  He 
knows  what  is  good  in  the  circumstances  as 
well  as  in  the  event :  He  knows  what  is  best 
upon  the  whole,  and  in  the  end.  "  The  eyes 
of  the  Lord  run  to  and  fro,  throughout  the 
whole  earth,  to  show  himself  strong  in  the 
behalf  of  those  whose  heart  is  perfect  towards 
him." 

"  Who  so  fit  to  choose  our  lot, 
And  regulate  our  ways." 

It  is  therefore  needless,  presumptuous,  dis- 
honourable to  say  unto  Him,  "  what  doest 
Thou." 

But  perhaps  you  are  ready  to  say — Has 
this  prohibition  no  bounds,  no  qualification  t 
Must  we  be  kept,  while  God  is  dealing  with 
us,  in  absolute  ignorance,  and  silence?  In 
answer  to  this,  we  have  four  remarks  to 
make,  to  which  we  invite  your  renewed  at- 
tention. 

First  remark.  You  would  not  be  often 
capable  of  understanding  the  subject,  even 
were  God  to  tell  you,  "  what  he  doeth."  Vain 
man  would  be  wise,  but  he  is  born  as  a  wild 
ass's  colt.  We  are  of  yesterday,  and  know 
nothing.  We  have  only  a  small  degree  of 
intellect:  and  this  is  diverted  and  engrossed; 
limited  in  the  sphere  of  its  activity;  and 
bounded  by  sense  and  reflection.  We  cannot 
know,  where  we  have  no  ideas;  and  in  many 
cases  we  have  very  imperfect  ones,  or  none 
at  all.  What  marvel  then  if  God's  doings 
are  often  too  remote  for  us  to  reach ;  too  deep 
for  us  to  fathom ;  too  complicated  for  us  to 
unravel.  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful 
for  us :  and  it  would  be  useless  for  God  to 
impart  to  us  communications  which  we  have 
not  faculties  to  admit.  He  therefore  does 
with  us,  as  we  do  with  our  children.  They 
are  often  inquisitive,  but  we  divert  them 
from  the  subject.  We  know  that  we  cannot 
at  present  enable  them  to  comprehend  the 


248 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


nature,  the  bearings,  relations,  and  design  of 
our  conduct,  especially  in  our  most  weighty 
and  complex  concerns:  that  is,  in  those  af- 
fairs wherein  our  wisdom  is  principally  ex- 
ercised. And  we  know  who  hath  said,  "  O 
the  depths,  both  of  the  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge of  God !  How  unsearchable  are  his 
judgments,  and  his  ways  are  past  finding 
out!" 

Second  remark.  There  may  be  useful 
reasons  for  withholding  from  you  the  de- 
gree of  knowledge  which  you  are  competent 
to  receive.  The  former  article  regards  you 
physically ;  this  morally ;  that  regards  your 
intellectual  capacity,  this  your  religious  pro- 
bation and  improvement.  It  is  well  known 
that  a  veil  left  upon  the  subject,  will  serve 
to  awaken  attention  and  reverence ;  for  such 
is  the  nature  of  man,  that  familiarity  breeds 
neglect  and  contempt ;  while  distance  gen- 
ders awe,  and  excites  desire.  Nothing  was 
so  revered  by  the  Jews  as  the  ark  that  was 
not  to  be  touched,  and  the  holiest  of  all  that 
was  forbidden  to  be  entered.  The  sun  is  ne- 
ver so  much  noticed  as  when  eclipsed. — It 
may  be  necessary  to  keep  us  in  suspense,  to 
try  our  faith ;  for  the  homage  of  faith  is  su- 
perseded by  perfect  knowledge.  The  grand 
proof  of  our  confidence  is,  when  we  "  walk 
in  darkness,  and  have  no  light,"  to  "  trust  in 
the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  our  God."  Am  I 
willing  to  follow  Him,  when  he  leads  me,  as 
blind  in  a  way  which  I  know  not,  and  in 
paths  which  I  have  not  known?  Am  I  a  son 
of  Abraham,  who  at  tfie  call  of  God  obeyed, 
and  "  went  out,  not  knowing  whither  he 
went !" — Such  concealment  also  promotes 
our  humility.  Man  fell  from  his  happiness 
by  the  desire  of  knowing ;  and  he  can  only 
rise  by  the  humility  of  his  understanding, 
"  casting  down  imaginations,  and  every  thing 
that  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought 
to  the  obedience  of  Christ !" 

Third  remark.  An  appointed  hour  is  ap- 
proaching when  the  restraints  you  are  now 
under  will  be  taken  off ;  and  your  inquiries 
will  be  fully  allowed  and  indulged.  The 
present  is  a  world  of  action  rather  than  of 
science.  This  life  is  a  state  of  trial  and  pre- 
paration ;  the  life  to  come,  is  for  remunera- 
tion and  happiness.  For  this  reason  we  shall 
know  infinitely  more  than  we  now  know,  as 
well  as  enjoy  infinitely  more  than  we  now 
enjoy.  The  developements  of  eternity  will 
constitute  no  small  part  of  the  glory  to  be  re- 
vealed. We  therefore  rejoice  in  hope.  "  For 
we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part. 
But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  then 
that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away. — 
For  now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly, 
but  then  face  to  face:  for  now  I  know  in 
part,  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I 
am  known."  "  What  I  do,"  says  God,  "  thou 


knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  here- 
after." 

Fourth  remark.  Some  inquiry  is  permit- 
ted you,  even  now ;  Yes — If  you  will  speak 
with  modesty  and  diffidence — If  you  will  not 
arraign  his  character — If  you  will  not  im- 
peach his  supremacy,  his  rectitude,  his  wis- 
dom— If  you  will  not  inquire  from  any  suspi- 
cion of  his  wonderfulness  in  counsel  and 
excellency  in  working — or  from  idle  curi- 
osity— but  from  a  regard  to  your  advantage 
— to  regulate  your  duty — to  guide  your  godly 
sorrow — to  know  what  he  would  have  you  to 
do,  or  forsake :  you  may  even  now  ask,  "  What 
doest  thou  '!"  and  Eliphaz  himself  recom- 
mends you  to  do  so ;  "I  would  say  unto  God, 
do  not  condemn  me,  show  me  wherefore 
Thou  contendest  with  me." 

Now  of  that  which  we  have  spoken,  this 
is  the  sum. 

As  any  of  your  comforts  may  be  taken 
away,  set  not  your  hearts  upon  them.  This 
will  be  found  not  only  the  dictate  of  piety, 
but  prudence.  Excessive  attachment  is  the 
way  to  lose  our  enjoyments  the  sooner,  be- 
cause it  adds  a  moral  precariousness  to  the 
natural :  for  it  provokes  God  to  slay  the  idols 
which  rob  him  of  that  glory,  which  he  has 
declared  he  will  not  give  to  another.  There- 
fore as  snow  remains  longer  in  a  cool  place 
than  in  the  sun  beams,  so  all  our  temporal 
indulgences  are  more  durable  in  the  region 
of  moderate  regard,  than  in  the  warmth  of 
ardent  affection. — By  this  intemperate  at- 
tachment too,  you  render  the  removal  the 
more  difficult  and  painful  when  it  comes. 
What  we  hold  at  our  fingers'  ends  we  can 
easily  drop:  but  the  tearing  away  of  the 
heart-strings  is  death. 

Again.  We  see  what  alone  it  is  in  our 
afflictions  that  can  reconcile  the  mind  to 
them.  It  is  a  view  of  God ;  and  a  view  of 
Him,  not  only  as  a  sovereign,  but  a  Father. 
A  view  of  His  power  will  do  something :  it 
will  show  us  the  vanity  of  resistance,  and  in- 
duce us  to  say,  "  This  is  my  grief  and  I  must 
bear  it."  But  the  submission  of  a  Christian 
is  not  the  offspring  of  necessity,  or  compul- 
sion. It  is  acquiescence.  It  is  not  enough 
that  he  does  not  strive  with  God — He  must 
forgive  him — He  must  take  all  he  does  in 
good  part — He  must  approve — He  must  in 
every  thing  give  thanks :  feeling  a  lively  per- 
suasion not  only  that  he  is  doing  all  things, 
but  doing  all  things  well.  This  is  a  frame 
of  mind  that  allows  indeed  of  sensibility,  but 
excludes  all  censure.  "  Then  Job  arose  and 
rent  his  mantle,  and  shaved  his  head,  and  fell 
down  upon  the  ground  and  worshipped :  and 
said,  naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's  womb, 
and  naked  shall  I  return  thither.  The  Lord 
gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord.  In  all  this  Job 
sinned  not,  nor  charged  God  foolishly." 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


249 


The  subject  I  have  imperfectly  explained  I 
and  improved,  cannot  be  deemed  unsuitable 
to  any  of  my  audience,  for  we  live  in  a  world 
of  changes;  and  "  If  a  man  live  many  years," 
says  Solomon,  "  and  rejoice  in  them  all,  yet 
let  him  remember  the  days  of  darkness,  for 
they  shall  be  many  :  all  that  cometh  is  vani- 
ty." But  it  has  been  peculiarly  designed  for 
those  who  are  again  called  to  sigh, 

The  dear  delights  we  here  enjoy, 

And  fondly  call  our  own : 
Are  but  short  favours  borrowed  now 

To  be  repaid  anon. 

— They  have  not  only  been  bereaved,  but 
visited  with  breach  upon  breach.  A  year 
has  not  elapsed  since  God  entered  the  house 
of  mourning,  and  by  the  death  of  the  never 
to  be  forgotten  head  of  the  household,  required 
a  most  important  and  painful  sacrifice  of  the 
family ;  and  in  which  the  church,  the  pastor, 
the  Sunday-schools,  the  poor,  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  the  public  suffered  along  with 
them.* 

And  behold  again  He  taketh  away.  He 
has  now  removed,  not  only  a  fellow-creature, 
but  a  fellow-hearer  and  worshipper,  whose 
place — there — which  once  knew  her,  shall 
know  her  no  more  for  ever.  She  has  been 
removed — in  the  bloom  of  life — lovely  in 
person,  more  lovely  in  mind — most  lovely  in 
temper.  Her  disposition  was  peculiarly  kind 
and  obliging;  her  manners  gentle,  unaffect- 
ed, and  elegant;  and  her  filial  attachment 
and  devotedness  most  exemplary.  It  is  in- 
deed to  be  presumed,  that  the  poignancy  of 
her  feelings  upon  the  loss  of  her  honoured 
father,  injured  her  delicate  frame,  and  ac- 
celerated and  promoted  the  complaint  of 
which  she  died. 

She  was  not  suddenly  taken  away,  but  by 
a  slow,  and  often  flattering  disease,  which 
gradually  undermined  her  constitution.  And 
this  was  in  mercy.  It  afforded  a  lengthened 
opportunity  of  developing  and  maturing  those 
principles  which  had  been  previously  im- 
planted in  her.  Yes,  the  heavenly  seed 
was  sown  before — And  I  had  such  a  persua- 
sion of  this,  that  I  proposed  her  admission  to 
the  table  of  the  Lord.  That  timidity,  how- 
ever, which  generally  accompanies  sincerity, 
made  her  shrink  back  from  a  profession  of 
religion.  But  though  never  admitted  a  mem- 
ber of  a  church  on  earth,  she  has  entered 
the  church  of  the  first-born,  whose  names 
are  written  in  heaven,  and  joined  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect.  And  I  have  fre- 
quently imagined  the  pleasing  interview  be- 
tween the  father  and  the  child  in  that  world 
of  renewed  and  finished  friendship:  and  have 
thought  how  much  more  advantageously  she 
is  disposed  of,  to  be  under  the  wing  of  a 

*  See  a  very  just  and  elegant  delineation  of  the  cha- 
racter of  this  most  excellent  man,  whose  death  was  so 
deeply  and  universally  deplored,  in  an  address  delivered 
on  the  occasion,  to  the  Sunday  schools  and  the  Teach- 
ers, by  the  Uev.  Thomas  Roberts,  A.  M. 

21 


parent  in  heaven,  than  a  parent  on  earth. 
Free  from  infirmity,  and  care,  and  trouble, 
how  much  more  able  is  the  Father  in  heaven 
to  devote  himself  to  her  improvement  and 
happiness,  than  the  mother  on  earth  ! 

— I  said,  the  heavenly  seed  had  been  sown 
before:  But  the  lingering  illness;  the  retire- 
ment from  the  world ;  the  sheltered  leisure  ; 
the  intercourse  of  sacred  friendship ;  and 
above  all,  the  presence,  the  conversation,  the 
prayers,  of  a  pious  parent — these  were  the 
showers  that  made  the  seed  spring  up,  and  in 
a  short  time  to  grow  abundantly,  "  first  the 
blade,  then  the  ear,  and  after  that  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear."  The  progress  and  produce 
were  seen,  in  deep  convictions  of  sin ;  in 
great  self-abasement;  in  godly  sorrow;  in 
earnest  and  constant  prayer ;  in  dependence 
on  the  Lord  our  righteousness  and  strength ; 
and  in  love  to  his  dear  name.  It  would  take 
up  too  much  of  your  time,  to  go  over  the  pro- 
cess of  her  experience  till  within  a  few  days 
of  her  dissolution.  Suffice  it  to  observe,  that 
she  finished  her  course,  not  only  with  peace 
but  joy ;  fully  aware  of  her  approaching  de- 
parture, and  impressed  with  all  the  import- 
ance attached  to  the  event,  yet  triumphing 
over  it. 

On  the  Tuesday  preceding  her  death,  her 
mother  coming  into  the  room  after  some  ab- 
sence, she  said  to  her  with  a  smile,  "  I  am 
happy  :"  and  to  a  friend  standing  by,  "  How 
precious  is  the  Saviour :  he  has  pardoned  my 
sins,  and  washed  me  in  his  own  blood — I  long 
to  be  with  him,  and  to  behold  his  face  in  right- 
eousness." 

On  Wednesday  morning  her  respiration 
becoming  more  difficult,  she  prayed  if  it  was 
the  Lord's  will  to  give  her  more  breath  that 
she  might  praise  him  more ;  and  tell  poor  sin- 
ners how  precious  he  had  been  to  her  soul. 
She  then  repeated  with  great  emphasis : 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul. 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly ; 
While  the  raging  billows  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high ! 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past ; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 
O  receive  my  soul  at  last! 

Other  refuge  have  I  none, 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  thee ; 
Leave,  ahl  leave  me  not  alone. 

Still  support  and  comfort  me: 
All  my  trust  on  thee  is  stay'd, 

All  my  help  from  thee  I  bring, 
Cover  my  defenceless  head 
With  the  shadow  of  thy  wing! 

Soon  after  this  she  broke  forth  and  said : 

I'll  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breath, 
And  when  my  soul  is  lost  in  death 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers : 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life,  and  thought  and  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures. 

And  again : 

My  Jesus  shall  be  still  my  theme 

While  in  this  world  I  stay; 
I'll  sing  my  Saviour's  lovely  name. 
When  ail  things  else  decay. 


250 


THE  HAND  OP  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


And  then  looking  upward  said,  "  When  heart 
and  flesh  fiuleth,  be  Thou  "  the  strength  of 
my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever." 

— On  Thursday  morning-,  after  struggling 
for  some  time  to  all  appearance  in  the  ago- 
nies of  death,  she  revived,  and  said  to  her  at- 
tached friend,  "How  precious  is  the  Saviour; 
O  never,  never  forget  him:"  and  to  her  pa- 
rent, "  You,  my  dear  mother,  will  praise  him 
to  an  eternity,  for  all  the  happiness  I  feel.  It 
appears  as  if  the  Saviour's  everlasting  arms 
were  underneath  me ;  and  the  angels  beckon- 
ing me  away  to  glory.  O  precious  Saviour ! 
that  I  had  more  breath  to  praise  thee.  O 
come  and  take  me  to  Thyself,  that  I  may  cast 
my  crown  at  Thy  feet,  and  sing  "  worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain." 

At  one  time  she  expressed  a  great  desire 
to  be  taken  home  to  Bath,*  that  she  might 
see  her  young  friends,  and  tell  them  how 
good  the  Saviour  had  been  to  her ;  and  exhort 
them  to  seek  Him  while  they  had  health  and 
strength ;  but  finding  this  to  be  impracticable, 
she  submitted  to  the  will  of  her  heavenly 
Father:  but  said  to  her  mother,  "Let  me 
however  be  taken  home  to  be  buried.  Let 
my  young  friends  see  me,  give  them  my  dy- 
ing love,  and  tell  them  how  happy  I  should 
have  been  could  I  have  seen  them,  to  speak 
of  the  Saviour's  goodness."  She  particularly 
wished  to  have  seen  the  preacher  who  is  now 
addressing  you;  but  as  his  public  engage- 
ments prevented  her  the  satisfaction,  she  de- 
sired her  mother  to  tell  him,  "That  she  had 
a  good  hope  through  grace — That  Jesus  was 
all  her  salvation  and  all  her  desire — That 
she  was  cleansed  in  His  blood,  and  clothed 
in  his  righteousness." 

At  another  time,  she  exclaimed,  "  Though 
the  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  be  dis- 
solving, I  have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not 
made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

These  are  only  a  few  of  her  remarks  and 
feelings.  She  continued  exulting  in  the  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  when  breath  per- 
mitted, till  the  moment  of  her  departure  drew 
near:  and  when  she  could  no  longer  utter 
aloud  the  happiness  she  felt,  she  was  distinct- 
ly heard  to  whisper  "  O  come,  Lord  Jesus, 
come  quickly.  Come  take  me  to  thyself.  I 
am  accepted  in  the  beloved.  I  am  waiting 
his  commands.  I  am  longing  to  depart  to  be 
with  Jesus  which  is  far  better." 

Well,  this  beautiful  flower  is  not  destroyed, 
but  only  transplanted — transplanted  from  a 
wintry  climate  and  an  ungenial  soil  to  flou- 
rish near  "  the  tree  of  life  which  is  in  the 
midst  of  the  paradise  of  God." 

And  now  what  remains'!  When  Jesus 
was  dying  in  anguish  on  the  Cross,  and  amidst 
the  insults  of  the  multitude  (never  was  there 
a  scene  of  distress  like  her's,)  Mary,  his  mo- 
ther, was  standing  by ;  and  I  am  happy  to  find 
here  this  morning,  the  mother  of  this  beloved 
*  She  died  at  the  Hot-Wells. 


child.    You  who  have  been  bereaved  your- 
selves will  sympathize  with  her.    Yet  per- 
haps no  one  of  you  has  been  called  to  lose  in 
sad  succession,  several  infants;  a  son  at  se- 
venteen full  of  every  kind  of  promise;  a  hus- 
band, and  such  a  husband ;  a  daughter,  and 
such  a  daughter!    But  my  afflicted  friend, 
there  is  one — the  God  of  all  comfort — who 
knows  thy  frame — knows  all  thy  walking 
through  this  great  wilderness — and  has  en- 
gaged to  deliver  thee  in  six  troubles,  and  that 
in  seven,  no  evil  shall  touch  thee.  Indeed 
you  feel  that  the  affliction  has  been  alleviated, 
sanctified,  glorified!  Your  grateful  mind  has 
led  you  to  acknowledge,  that  you  have  much 
more  reason  for  joy  than  sorrow.    Her  death 
is  not  only  her  gain,  but  your's.    You  have 
gained  by  it  a  fresh  claim  on  the  presence  of 
God;  you  have  gained  a  new  promise,  "I 
will  be  with  thee  in  trouble."    You  have 
gained  another  loosening  from  earth  and  an- 
other attraction  in  heaven ;  and  you  will  now 
resemble  the  sheep  that  I  have  seen  in  the 
meadow  following  after  the  shepherd,  bleat- 
ing, that  has  taken  up  her  lamb — So  you  will 
long  to  be  with  Jesus  who  has  gathered  your 
lamb  with  his  arm,  and  carries  it  in  his  bo- 
som.   I  feel  on  the  present  occasion ;  but  al- 
allow  me  to  say,  the  parent  I  most  pity,  is 
not  the  parent  that  has  just  seen  a  child  de- 
livered from  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  a 
vale  of  tears,  and  exalted  to  sit  with  the  Sa- 
viour on  his  throne — but  the  parent  whose 
heart  is  bleeding  and  breaking  over  a  child 
that  has  sinned  away  every  religious  advan- 
tage, and  in  the  career  of  iniquity  is  proceed- 
ing from  evil  to  evil.   "  Weep  ye  not  for  the 
dead,  neither  bemoan  him;  but  weep  sore  for 
him  that  goeth  away;  for  he  shall  return  no 
more,  nor  see  his  native  country." — 

I  am  peculiarly  concerned  to  render  the 
event  useful  to  you,  the  sister  and  brothers 
of  the  deceased.  You  have,  my  young  friends, 
been  several  times  solemnly  addressed  by  the 
providence  as  well  as  the  word  of  God.  I 
trust  it  has  not  been  entirely  in  vain.  But  it 
is  with  you  to  determine  whether  you  are 
sufficiently  decided.  It  is  for  you  to  deter- 
mine whether  you  are  giving  full  scope  to 
the  convictions,  which  from  your  education 
and  advantages  you  surely  must  often  feel. 
It  is  for  you  to  determine  whether  "the 
world  and  the  things  of  the  world"  are  sway- 
ing you,  or  you  are  living  as  you  will  wish 
you  had  lived,  when  you  come  to  die.  You 
have  long  heard  the  gospel.'  Have  you  re- 
ceived it  !  From  a  child  you  have  known  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  Have  they  made  you  wise 
unto  salvation?  You  have  seen  that  the 
saints  are  the  excellent  in  the  earth.  Is  all 
your  delight  in  them?  You  have  now  much 
in  heaven.  Are  you  to  be  connected  with 
it,  or  separated  from  it,  for  ever  1  God  forbid 
that  there  should  be  weeping  and  gnashing 
of  teeth,  when  you  shall  see  Abraham,  and 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  IN  AFFLICTIONS. 


251 


Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  your  endeared  kindred 
in  the  kingdom  of  God — and  ye  yourselves 
shut  out. 

My  young  friends  in  general,  suffer  the 
word  of  exhortation.  You  have  had  another 
instance  before  you  of  the  delusion  of  depend- 
ing on  a  future  season,  for  an  attention  to  the 
things  that  belong  to  your  everlasting  peace. 
In  the  midst  of  life  you  are  in  death.  Child- 
hood and  youth  are  vanity.  Should  life 
amidst  a  thousand  perils  be  spared,  the  heart 
may  be  hardened  through  the  deceitfulness 
of  sin,  and  by  unsanctified  attendance  on  the 
means  of  grace.  Or  should  you  in  advanced 
years  be  enabled  to  seek  the  Lord,  the  mis- 
improvement  of  the  most  favoured  period  of 
your  time  will  occasion  bitter  repentance. 
You  will  then  see,  but  too  late  to  retrieve 
them,  the  losses  you  have  sustained  by  the 
neglect  of  early  piety.  I  have  avoided  re- 
marking therefore  till  now,  how  often  and 
how  much  the  deceased  regretted  that  she 
had  not  sought  the  Lord  earlier."  "  O,"  said 
she,  "  O  that  I  had  known  the  Saviour  sooner. 
O  that  I  had  known  Him  from  the  age  of  six, 
or  even  four,  the  time  then  would  have  been 
too  short  to  praise  Him."  For  your  seeking 
him  early,  my  young  friends,  she  discovered 
her  solicitude  in  death.  For  this  purpose  she 


desired  to  be  brought  to  her  own  house,  that 
as  the  eye  affecteth  the  heart,  you  might  be 
impressed  with  the  sight  of  so  early  a  corpse. 
Many  of  you  have  seen  it;  and  others  have 
followed  it  this  morning  to  the  grave.  And 
I  see  you  are  impressed.  You  are  saying, 
"  Ah !  she  is  gone — our  lovely  companion — 
we  shall  no  more  see  her  in  the  house,  or 
walk  with  her  in  the  field.  We  shall  no 
more  see  her — dealing  out  her  garments 
to  the  poor — no  more  see  her  teaching,  sur- 
rounded by  her  little  Sunday-school  circle" — 
Yes,  you  weep,  and  these  tears  become  you. 
I  love  to  see  them. — You  are  now  impressed: 
and  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  sincerity  of  your 
present  feelings  and  vows — but  I  have  of 
their  permanency.  I  fear  you  will  go  forth 
and  straightway  forget  what  manner  of  per- 
sons you  now  are.  I  fear  you  will  turn  again 
to  folly.  "  O  that  they  were  wise ;  that  they 
understood  this;  that  they  would  consider 
their  latter  end." 

"  The  voice  said,  Cry :  and  I  said  what 
shall  I  cry.  All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the 
glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of  grass.  The 
grass  withereth,  and  the  flower  thereof  fadeth 
away  :  but  the  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for 
ever ;  and  this  is  the  word  which  by  the  gos- 
pel is  preached  unto  you." 


AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REGULATE  THE  CLAIMS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN 

MINISTRY  : 


A  SERMON 


PREACHED  AT  THE  SEPARATION  OF 

THE  REV.  JAMES  STRATTON, 

TO  THE  PASTORAL  OFFICE  OVER  THE  CHURCH  AND  CONGREG  ATION,  MEETING  IN  PAD- 
DINGTON  CHAPEL,  NOVEMBER  18,  1818. 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


To  THOMAS  WILSON,  Esq. 

Sir, — It  would  pain  me,  could  I  think,  that  the  Pastor,  or  the  Church  and  Congregation, 
or  the  numerous  and  respectable  Ministers  who  joined  them  in  urging  the  publication  of  the 
following  Discourse,  deemed  themselves  slighted  by  the  Individuality  of  this  Dedication. 

I  am  persuaded  however,  that  without  a  single  exception,  they  will  applaud  the  convic- 
tion that  has  determined  me,  without  his  knowledge,  to  inscribe  these  pages  solely  to  a 
gentleman — who  was  the  generous  founder  and  supporter  of  the  Chapel,  in  which  the 
solemnities  were  held — who  has  long  been  the  unwearied  friend  and  munificent  patron  of 
the  institution  to  which  the  people  owe  their  approved  minister — who  values  property  much 
more  as  an  instrument  of  usefulness  than  of  honour  or  enjoyment — and,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  is  ready  to  every  good  work. — I  am,  Sir,  with  the  most  unfeigned  respect,  your  hum- 
ble and  obedient  servant,  WILLIAM  JAY. 

Bath,  Dec.  1, 1818. 


Now  know  I  that  the  Lord  -will  do  me  good, 
seeing  I  have  a  levite  to  my  priest. — Judges 
xvii.  13. 

We  are  here  led  back  to  an  early  period 
of  the  Jewish  history,  and  to  a  sad  portion  of 
the  Jewish  church.  But  while  we  wonder 
and  condemn,  it  becomes  us  to  admit  into  the 
account,  the  peculiar  disadvantages,  civil  and 
religious,  under  which  they  now  laboured ; 
and  to  remember,  that  sins  are  to  be  judged 
of,  not  by  their  grossness  but  guilt ;  and  that 
guilt  is  to  be  determined  by  the  measure  of 
means  and  privileges  neglected  and  abused. 
"  The  servant  which  knew  his  lord's  will, 
and  prepared  not  himself,  neither  did  accord- 
ing to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many 
stripes.  But  he  that  knew  not,  and  did  com- 
mit things  worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten 
with  few  stripes.  For  unto  whomsoever 
much  is  given,  of  him  shall  be  much  re- 
quired; and  to  whom  men  have  committed 
much,  of  him  they  will  ask  the  more." 

— Let  us  enter  into  the  story.    Here  is  an 


old  woman  very  covetous,  and  yet  very  re- 
ligious in  her  way.  She  had  saved  up  eleven 
hundred  shekels  of  silver,  and  hid  them.  But 
Micah  her  son  soon  finds  and  seizes  the  trea- 
sure— for  there  are  children  who  are  neither 
ashamed  or  afraid  to  steal  from  their  parents ; 
— upon  which,  she  falls  into  a  passion,  and 
not  only  raves  but  even  curses.  Her  impre- 
cating the  divine  vengeance  on  the  head  of 
the  thief,  terrified  Micah ;  he  confessed  the 
roguery,  and  restored  the  money.  This 
threw  her  into  an  ecstasy  of  pleasure,  so  that 
instead  of  upbraiding  him,  she  exclaims: 
"  Blessed  be  thou  of  the  Lord  my  son :"  de- 
claring at  the  same  time  that  she  had  in- 
tended the  whole  sum  for  himself — "  I  had 
wholly  dedicated  the  silver  unto  the  Lord 
from  my  hand  for  my  son,  to  make  a  graven 
image  and  a  molten  image."  The  property 
however,  though  wholly  pledged,  was  too 
precious,  on  recovery,  to  be  wholly  parted 
with :  she  therefore  keeps  nine  hundred  she- 
kels, and  squeezes  out  only  two  for  the 
sacred  service.  These  "  she  gave  to  the 
252 


OF  TOE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


253 


founder,  who  made  thereof  a  graven  image 
and  a  molten  image;  and  they  were  in  the 
house  of  Micah."  Thus  a  species  of  idolatry 
entered  this  family,  and  from  this  family 
spread  through  the  whole  tribe  of  Dan.  It 
was  not  a  sin  committed  against  the  first 
commandment,  in  worshipping  another  God  : 
but  against  the  second  commandment,  in 
worshipping  the  true  God  under  a  similitude. 

But  what  will  he  do  for  a  priest  ?  "  He 
consecrated  one  of  his  own  sons."  But  He 
does  not  long  remain  in  office.  The  case 
was  this.  A  strolling  Levite  had  gone  abroad 
in  search  of  employment  and  promotion.  In 
his  vagabond  rambles  he  comes  to  mount 
Ephraim,  and  to  the  house  of  Micah.  "And 
Micah  said  unto  him,  whence  comest  thou  3 
And  he  said  unto  him,  I  am  a  Levite  of 
Bethlehem-judah,  and  I  go  to  sojourn  where 
I  may  find  a  place.  And  Micah  said  unto 
him,  dwell  witli  me,  and  be  unto  me  a  father 
and  a  priest,  and  I  will  give  thee  ten  shekels 
of  silver  by  the  year,  and  a  suit  of  apparel, 
and  thy  victuals."  Clothes  and  food,  and 
twenty-five  shillings  a  year,  were  no  great 
matters.  "  The  ministry"  says  Henry,  "  is 
a  good  calling,  but  a  bad  trade."  The  Levite 
however  is  content,  and  his  employer  is 
happy — "  Then  said  Micah,  now  know  I  that 
the  Lord  will  do  me  good,  seeing  I  have  a 
Levite  to  my  priest." 

Here  we  have  something  to  commend,  and 
something  to  censure,  whether  we  consider 
the  case  more  generally,  or  particularly. 

It  was  surely  right  in  him,  to  be  concerned 
for  the  blessing  of  God. — "  The  Lord  will 
do  me  good."  It  is  obvious  that  he  expected 
nothing  without  the  Divine  favour ;  and  was 
persuaded  that  "  the  blessing  of  the  Lord,  it 
maketh  rich,  and  he  addeth  no  sorrow  with 
it."  I  am  bold  to  say,  that  many  of  our  fel- 
low-creatures are  not  equally  wise.  They 
live  without  God  in  the  world.  God  is  not 
in  all  their  thoughts.  If  ever  he  breaks  in 
among  them,  He  is  considered  an  intruder, 
and  they  labour  to  expel  him,  saying  with 
those  in  the  days  of  Job,  "  Depart  from  us, 
we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways :" 
or  with  those  in  the  time  of  Isaiah,  "  Cause 
the  Holy  One  of  Israel  to  cease  from  before 
us."  Not  that  this  is  the  utterance  of  the 
lip,  but  of  the  life :  actions,  we  say,  speak 
louder  than  words ;  and  the  sacred  writers  to 
shock  us  with  their  nature  and  tendency,  put 
the  dispositions  and  the  conduct  of  the  wick- 
ed into  language. — Have  they  succeeded  in 
business  ?  "  They  sacrifice  to  their  net,  and 
burn  incense  to  their  own  drag ;  because  by 
them  their  portion  is  fat,  and  their  meat 
plenteous."  Have  they  a  journey,  or  an 
enterprise  before  them  ?  They  say,  "  To- 
day, or  to-morrow  we  will  go  into  such  a 
city,  and  continue  there  a  year,  and  buy  and 
sell  and  get  gain."  Whereas  they  ought  to 
say,  "  If  the  Lord  will  we  shall  live,  and  do 
22 


this  or  that."  They  are  anxious  and  eager 
to  please  men,  especially  if  they  have  power 
and  influence ;  but  they  ibrget  that  every 
thing  depends  on  our  pleasing  God.  For  in 
His  favour  is  life.  He  only  is  blessed  whom 
God  blesses.  "Except  the  Lord  build  the 
house,  they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it ;  ex- 
cept the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain."  We  should  be  princi- 
pally concerned  to  secure  the  benediction  of 
God ;  and  above  all  things  His  gracious 
favour. — "Remember  me,  O  Lord,  with  the 
favour  thou  bearest  unto  thy  people !" 

But  while  it  was  right  in  Micah  to  be  re- 
gardful of  the  blessing  of  God — it  was  wrong 
in  him  to  derive  his  expectation  from  such 
an  ambiguous  and  delusive  source  of  evi- 
dence.— "  Now  I  know  the  Lord  will  do  me 
good,  seeing  I  have  a  Levite  to  my  priest." 
Ah,  my  brethren,  this  fine  reasoner  has  had  a 
number  of  followers  in  every  age.  The  Jews, 
because  they  had  among  them  the  ark  and  the 
temple,  and  wore  the  rite  of  circumcision, 
and  could  call  Abraham  their  father,  presum- 
ed upon  their  security  ;  and  their  destruction 
took  them  by  surprise.    Many  now,  accord- 
ing as  the  degree  of  their  ignorance  requires 
a  grosser  or  a  more  refined  delusion,  conclude 
that  God  will  surely  do  them  good,  because 
they  were  born  of  Christian  parents,  or  were 
baptized  in  their  infancy,  or  have  observed 
Good  Friday  and  Lent,  or  have  fasted  and 
given  alms  to  the  poor,  or  have  been  moral 
in  their  deportment,  or  have  reformed  them- 
selves from  every  vice,  or  have  been  the  sub- 
jects of  conviction  of  sin,  or  possess  edifying 
gifts,  or  rank  with  professors  of  religion, 
"  having  a  name  to  live." — But  it  would  be 
endless  to  particularize  all  the  articles  in 
this  magazine  of  delusion.    "  He  feedeth  on 
ashes;  a  deceived  heart  hath  turned  him  aside, 
that  he  cannot  deliver  his  soul,  nor  say  is 
there  not  a  lie  in  my  right  hand  V    My  dear 
hearers  you  must  be  accepted  in  the  beloved  ; 
you  must  be  saved  by  the  washing  of  regene- 
ration, and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
you  must  worship  God  in  the  spirit  and  re- 
joice in  Christ  Jesus,  and  have  no  confidence 
in  the  flesh,  before  you  are  authorized  to  say, 
with  regard  to  prosperity  or  adversity,  sick- 
ness or  health,  life  or  death,  time  or  eternity 
— "  Now  know  I  that  the  Lord  will  do  me 
good."  "  We  know,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  that 
all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God,  to  them  who  are  the  called  accord- 
ing to  his  purpose." — But  all  besides  this,  is 
only  the  repetition  of  Micah's  folly  in  another 
shape. 

Again.  I  observe  the  same  mixture  of  right 
and  wrong,  truth  and  error,  in  a  more  parti- 
cular instance,  and  which  brings  us  nearer 
our  subject.  Micah  does  well  in  prizing  the 
priestly  office,  for  it  was  the  appointment  of 
God ;  but  he  does  ill  in  viewing  it  without 
discrimination,  and  regarding  it  as  an  abso- 


254 


AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REGULATE  THE  CLAIMS 


lute  criterion  or  expedient;  for  a  thing  may 
be  excellent  in  itself,  and  not  available  in  all 
cases:  but  his  confidence  has  no  qualification : 
he  despairs  of  nothing-,  solely  on  the  ground 
that  he  has  to  officiate  for  him,  one  of  the  sa- 
cerdotal race.  "  Now  know  I  that  the  Lord 
will  do  me  good,  seeing  I  have  a  Levite  to 
my  priest." 

Behold  then,  my  brethren,  the  devclope- 
ment  of  the  plan  we  have  in  view  this  morn- 
ing. You  have  now  auspiciously  established 
among  you,  a  settled  ministry.  This  is  an 
institution  for  which  you  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful ;  you  should  consider  it  a  token  for  good, 
and  you  should  look  for  a  blessing  from  it. 
And  yet  you  may  conceive  of  it  improperly, 
you  may  think  more  highly  of  it  than  you 
ought  to  think,  you  may  even  convert  the 
privilege  into  a  penalty.  Allow  me  to  say, 
with  regard  to  the  ministry  of  our  young  and 
esteemed  brother  now  separated  to  the  pas- 
toral office  in  this  church  and  congregation — 
That  you  may  undervalue  it — That  you  may 
rely  too  mucli  upon  it — That  you  may  per- 
vert it.  Against  these  three  mistakes,  it  will 
be  my  endeavour  to  guard  you.    I  shall 

I.  Attempt  to  justify  the  estimation 

IN  WHICH  IT  IS  YOUR  DUTY  TO  HOLD  THE  MI- 
NISTRY. 

II.  I  SHALL  SHOW  IN  WHAT  CASES  YOUR 
DEPENDENCE  UPON  IT  MAY  BE  IMPROPER  AND 
CENSURABLE.  And 

III.  I  SHALL  EVINCE  THE  POSSIBILITY  OF 
YOUR  EVEN  TURNING  THE  BLESSING  INTO  A 
CURSE. 

I.  Did  you  ever  observe,  my  brethren,  the 
language  of  the  Apostle  to  the  Thessaloniansl 
"  Know  them  that  labour  among  you  and  are 
over  you  in  the  Lord,  and  admonish  you,  and 
esteem  them  very  highly  in  love  for  their 
work's  sake."  This  it  must  be  acknowledged 
is  a  high  demand.  To  "  know"  them — to 
"  esteem"  them — to  esteem  them  "  highly" — 
to  esteem  them  "very"  highly — to  esteem 
them  very  highly  "in  love!"  But  the  Apos- 
tle adds — "  for  their  work's  sake."  As  if  He 
had  said,  the  respect  regards  the  office  rather 
than  the  man;  and  attaches  to  the  man  only 
in  reference  to  the  office,  and  in  proportion 
only  as  he  is  the  office  really  and  alive.  Such 
is  the  exalted  estimation  in  which  it  is 
our  duty  to  hold  the  ministry  of  the  word. 
How  shall  we  justify  it  1 

Let  us  appeal  to  the  declarations  of  God 
the  judge,  of  all.  What  was  to  crown,  ac- 
corrling  to  Jeremiah,  the  return  of  the  Jews 
from  Babylon  into  their  own  land ?  "I  will 
give  them  pastors  after  mine  own  heart,  who 
shall  feed  them  with  knowledge  and  under- 
standing." What  does  Isaiah  consider  a  full 
compensation  for  all  the  calamities  of  life  1 
"  Though  the  Lord  give  you  the  bread  of  ad- 
versity, and  the  water  of  affliction,  yet  shall 
not  thy  teachers  be  removed  into  a  corner 
any  more,  but  thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  teach- 


ers :  and  thine  ears  shall  hear  a  word  behind 
thee,  saying,  this  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it, 
when  ye  turn  to  the  right  hand,  and  when  ye 
turn  to  the  left."  What  does  God  by  Amos 
deem  worse  than  famine  and  drought.  "  Be- 
hold the  days  come,  saith  the  Lord  God,  that 
I  will  send  a  famine  in  the  land,  not  a  famine 
of  bread,  or  a  thirst  for  water,  but  of  hearing 
the  words  of  the  Lord  :  and  they  shall  wan- 
der from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  north  even 
to  the  east ;  they  shall  run  to  and  fro  to  seek 
the  word  of  the  Lord,  and  shall  not  find  it." 
What  does  the  Lord  Jesus  deem  the  worst 
of  all  judgments,  with  which  to  alarm  the 
Ephesian  church  to  repentance  7  "  Remem- 
ber therefore  from  whence  thou  art  fallen, 
and  repent,  and  do  the  first  works ;  or  else  1 
will  come  unto  thee  quickly,  and  will  remove 
thy  candlestick  out  of  his  place,  except  thou 
repent." 

Let  us  appeal  to  the  example  and  authori- 
ty of  the  Lord  Jesus.  It  was  said  by  a  Scotch 
writer,  that  God  had  one  only  begotten  Son, 
and  he  made  a  preacher  of  him.  This  is  no 
more  quaint  than  true.  It  is  certain  that 
when  he  entered  this  world,  he  did  not  be- 
come a  merchant,  he  did  not  become  a  scho- 
lar, he  did  not  place  himself  at  the  head  of  an 
army,  or  ascend  a  throne — all  this  was  be- 
neath him  :  but  he  could  say, "  I  have  preach- 
ed righteousness  in  the  great  congregation  :" 
he  did  go  "  through  all  the  towns  and  vil- 
lages preaching :"  and  with  regard  to  Him  it 
was  said,  "  The  poor  have  the  gospel  preached 
unto  them  ?"  And  He  not  only  honoured  the 
ministry,  by  preaching  in  person.  "  He 
came,"  says  the  Apostle, "  and  preached  peace 
to  you  that  were  afar  off,  and  to  them  that 
were  nigh."  How  did  He  preach  to  them 
that  were  "  afar  oft'!"  Not  personally.  He 
never  passed  himself,  the  confines  of  Judea: 
He  was  the  minister  of  the  circumcision :  He 
was  only  sent  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house 
of  Israel. — But,  He  did  it  relatively  :  I  le  did 
it  by  sending  forth  his  commissioned  servants, 
and  saying,  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world  and 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature."  "  And 
they  went  forth,  and  preached  every  where, 
the  Lord  working  with  them,  and  confirrnind 
the  word  with  signs  following." 

Let  us  appeal  to  the  manner  in  which  tin- 
office  was  fully  and  permanently  established. 
We  are  taught  to  consider  it  as  nothing  less 
than  the  fruit  of  our  Lord's  meditation,  the 
consequence  and  the  proof  of  his  exalted 
state.  And  was  it  a  trifle  for  which  lie  died 
and  rose  again  !  Was  it  an  insignificance 
that  crowned  the  triumph  of  this  unexampled 
conqueror  7  "  Wherefore  he  saith,  when  he 
ascended  on  high,  he  led  captivity  captive, 
and  he  gave  gifts  unto  men" — And  what  were 
they  !  "  He  gave  some,  apostles  and  some 
prophets  ;  and  some,  evangelists ;  and  some, 
pastors,  and  teachers ;  for  the  perfecting  of 
the  saints,  for  the  work  of  the  ministry  for 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ :  till  we  all 
come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  know- 
ledge of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness 
of  Christ."  Do  we  not  here  see  that  the  office 
is  not  of  temporary  obligation,  but  to  last  as 
long  as  the  sun  and  moon  endure  throughout 
all  generations  1  Do  we  not  see  that  minis- 
ters are  the  gifts  of  Christ,  and  the  gifts  not 
of  his  bounty  only,  but  of  his  glory  ? — A 
spiritual  excellency  requires  a  spiritual  per- 
ception to  discern  it.  "  If  the  world  knew 
him  not,"  if  they  saw  in  him  "  no  form  nor 
comeliness,"  what  wonder  is  it,  if  they  see 
none  in  his  servants,  who  are  men  of  like 
passions  with  ourselves,  and  compassed  with 
infirmities,  and  often  destitute  of  secular  at- 
tractions: but  angels,  who  are  proverbially 
wise ;  angels,  who  saw  what  was  the  first 
thing  He  did  as  soon  as  He  had  received  all 
power  in  heaven  and  in  earth ;  angels,  who 
heard  him  say,  I'll  now  bestow  something,  do 
something  worthy  of  my  elevation — and  then 
established  the  ministry  in  its  various  branch- 
es and  degrees :  angels  in  their  intercourse 
with  our  world,  view  the  heralds  of  salvation 
as  the  most  important  characters  in  it,  and 
repair  to  the  ordination  of  a  minister  with 
more  interest,  than  mortals  ever  crowd  to 
witness  the  coronation  of  a  king.  Angels  were 
present  when  Timothy  received  his  orders : 
"  I  charge  thee  before  God  and  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  the  elect  angels,  that  thou 
observe  these  things  without  preferring  one 
before  another,  doing  nothing  by  partiality." 
They  rejoice,  not  at  the  foundation  of  a  muse- 
um, but  of  a  sanctuary;  and  if  they  foreknow 
things,  exult  not  at  the  birth  of  a  Welling- 
ton, but  of  a  Whitefield. 

For  let  us  appeal  to  the  design  of  the  in- 
stitution. It  has  been  remarked,  that  the 
office  of  a  lawyer  is  important,  because  it 
watches  over  our  property ;  and  the  office  of 
a  physician  much  more  so,  because  it  guards 
our  health  ;  "  For  the  life  is  more  than  meat, 
and  the  body  than  raiment."  But  even  these 
are  nothing  to  the  soul  and  eternity  ;  the  soul 
and  eternity  alone  are  absolutely  great :  yet 
to  these,  our  office  is  appropriated,  and  by 
these  it  is  infinitely  dignified.  What,  my 
young  brother,  can  equal  the  mission  which 
you  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus  "  to 
testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God ;"  and 
"  to  show  unto  men  the  way  of  salvation." 
No  angel  ever  came  from  heaven  to  earth  on 
so  weighty  an  errand  as  your's — "  I  send 
thee,"  says  the  Lord  Jesus,  "  to  open  their 
eyes,  to  turn  them  from  darkness  to  light  and 
the  power  of  Satan  unto  God,  that  they  might 
receive  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  inheritance 
among  them  which  are  sanctified  by  faith 
that  is  in  me."  Your  aim  is  nothing  less 
than  to  rescue  guilty  and  depraved,  yet  im- 
mortal beings  from  the  lowest  hell,  and  con- 
duct them  to  the  heaven  of  heavens ;  to  trans- 


255 

form  them  from  the  resemblance  of  the  devil, 
into  the  perfection  of  the  image  of  the  invisi- 
ble God — And  when  all  the  labours  of  other 
professors  will  be  annihilated ;  when  the 
finest  paintings,  the  sublimest  statues,  the 
most  durable  monuments,  the  pyramids  of 
Egypt; — when  the  immortal  works,  (so  are 
they  called)  of  philosophers,  legislators,  his- 
torians, poets,  shall  be  consumed ;  and  the 
earth  and  all  that  is  therein  shall  be  burned 
up — the  effects  of  your  tears,  and  studies, 
and  visiting  and  praying,  and  preaching,  shall 
remain.  And  when  every  other  relation  now 
subsisting  is  destroyed,  and  the  race  of  men 
will  never  blend  again  as  masters  and  ser- 
vants, as  princes  and  subjects,  as  parents  and 
children,  and  husbands  and  wives,  the  relation 
which  has  been  formed  and  publicly  ratified 
between  you  and  this  people,  will  be  indis- 
soluble ;  and  when  they  die,  or  when  you  are 
dying,  "  What  is  your  hope,  or  joy,  or  crown 
of  rejoicing  ?  Are  not  even  they  in  the  pre- 
sence of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  at  his  coming ! 
For  they  are  your  glory  and  joy."  I  know 
not  how  to  leave  this  article,  or  how  to  do 
any  thing  like  justice  to  it.  It  is,  my  dear 
brother,  the  sublime,  and  the  momentous  end 
of  your  function  that  reflects  so  much  ho- 
nour, and  fastens  so  much  importance  upon 
it.  Things  common  or  mean  in  themselves 
may  acquire  unspeakable  excellence  and 
grandeur  by  association  and  destiny.  Your 
office  is  frequently  held  forth  in  the  Scripture 
by  images  derived  from  employments  ab- 
stractedly considered  rather  humble  than 
glorious :  but  the  weight  it  acquires  from  re- 
lation and  design,  is  never  for  a  moment  left 
out.  You  are  "  a  soldier,"  but  it  is  in  "  the 
good  fight  of  faith."  You  are  a  "  fisher," 
but  "  a  fisher  of  men."  You  are  a  "  la- 
bourer," but  a  "  labourer  together  with  God." 
You  are  a  "  builder,"  but  it  is  in  "  God's 
building."  You  are  a  "  watchman,"  but 
you  "  watch  for  souls." 

You  watch  for  Socls  for  whom  the  Lord, 

Did  heavenly  bliss  forego ; 
For  Souls  that  must  for  ever  live, 

In  raptures  or  in  wo. 

Thus  a  small  insignificant  piece  of  paper 
is  converted  into  a  bank  note,  and  by  a  sove- 
reign impression  becomes  current  for  a  thou- 
sand pounds.  Thus  Raphael  took  a  roll  of 
canvass,  of  which  the  weaver  thought  nothing, 
and  the  vender  nothing :  but  he  threw  down 
upon  it  his  immortal  tints,  and  bade  it  become 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  And  thus,  Sir, 
your  office  rises  into  ineffable  greatness,  by 
taking  the  soul  of  man,  for  its  subject,  and 
eternity  for  its  aim. 

Again.  Let  us  appeal  to  its  adaptation  to 
usefulness.  A  minister  is  the  same  to  a 
Christian,  as  a  master  to  a  pupil.  The  pupil, 
left  to  himself,  would  be  neglectful;  other 
things  would  crowd  in,  and  the  lesson  be 
often  forgotten.    But  the  master,  by  his 


256 


AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REGULATE  THE  CLAIMS 


fixed  and  regular  attentions,  keeps  oft'  neg- 
lect and  forgetfulness.  Though  the  Scrip- 
tures are  in  the  hands  of  all,  and  all  are  com- 
manded to  search  them,  we  know  what  are 
the  avocations,  interruptions,  and  indiffer- 
ences of  the  generality  of  mankind.  The 
minister,  by  his  separation  from  "  the  affairs 
of  this  life,"  and  giving  himself  "  wholly  to 
reading,  and  meditation,  and  prayer,"  is  likely 
to  become  better  acquainted  with  the  extent 
of  revelation  than  others ;  and  will  be  able  to 
unite  What  lies  in  the  Scriptures  scattered  ; 
to  particularize  what  is  general;  and  to  ap- 
ply what  is  common.  He  has  an  opportunity 
to  place  things  so  directly  before  the  mind, 
that  it  cannot  get  by  them  unobserved ;  and 
so  to  characterize  individuals,  that  hearers 
cannot  elude  the  ringer  charge  of  conscience, 
"  Thou  art  the  man."  He  follows  his  hear- 
ers into  the  various  relations  of  life,  and  trains 
of  condition,  and  presents  the  most  suitable 
directions,  warnings,  cautions,  and  encourage- 
ments. He  studies  tempers,  and  prejudices, 
and  infirmities,  and  urges  each  by  the  most 
appropriate  motives :  he  bends  to  circum- 
stances, and  becomes  all  things  to  all  men,  if 
by  any  means  he  might  save  some.  In  no- 
thing does  the  wisdom  of  God  appear  more 
than  in  such  an  appointment.  Julian  the 
apostate  was  so  struck  with  the  importance 
of  such  an  institution,  in  order  to  maintain  or 
spread  any  system,  that  he  had  thoughts  of 
establishing  a  Pagan  ministry  himself,  for  the 
revival  and  promotion  of  heathenism.  Indeed 
what  can  equal  the  advantage  of  a  living  ad- 
dress from  man  to  man,  where  numbers  are 
assembled  together  in  silence,  the  place  they 
occupy  sacred,  and  all  reminded  that  they 
are  in  the  presence  of  God.  No  other  mode 
of  communicating  information  with  which 
we  are  acquainted,  or  which  we  are  able  to 
conceive,  can  awaken  half  the  attention,  or 
excite  half  the  interest,  as  the  ordinance  of 
preaching  the  word :  it  is  not  only  the  under- 
standing speaking  to  the  understanding,  but 
the  heart  speaking  to  the  heart,  and  the  con- 
science to  the  conscience.  By  this  engine, 
if  wisely  used,  every  power  of  the  mind  is 
plied,  and  every  feeling  of  the  soul  is  touched. 
God  forbid  we  should  ever  undervalue  the 
Bible,  yet  we  are  accustomed  to  say,  "  The 
gospel  is  come"  into  such  a  town  or  village, 
when  it  begins  to  be  preached  there;  and 
there  is  a  propriety  in  the  remark :  for  though 
the  gospel  was  there  before  in  the  Scriptures, 
it  was  there  as  a  revelation  only,  not  as  a  dis- 
pensation. It  was  there  presented  to  the  eye, 
but  not  addressed  to  the  ear,  and  "faith 
cometh  by  hearing."  There  was  the  "  ham- 
mer," as  God  calls  his  word ;  but  no  hand  to 
strike  with  it.  There  was  the  trumpet ;  but 
not  the  man  to  put  it  to  his  mouth,  that  it 
might  "  give  a  certain  sound."  There  was 
theseed,  but  not  the  sower ;  and  it  is  the  seed, 
not  sacked,  but  sown,  that  yields  "  first  the  j 


blade,  then  the  ear,  and  after  that  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear."  To  all  this  we  may  add- 
that  baptism,  as  an  ordinance  of  God,*is  to  be 
administered. — That  churches  are  to  be 
formed,  and  members  added  to  them,  as  souls 
are  converted. — That  the  Lord's  supper  is  to 
be  disposed  to  the  household  of  God.— That 
his  sheep  and  his  lambs  are  to  be  watched 
and  fed. — That  discipline  is  to  be  main- 
tained, and  offenders  suspended  or  cut  off. 
Can  a  book,  even  an  inspired  book,  do  all 
this] 

Once  more.  Let  us  appeal  to  the  success 
by  which  it  has  been  owned  and  honoured. 
How  many  have  been  called  by  it  out  of  dark- 
ness into  God's  marvellous  light.  Of  the 
numbers  now  serving  in  this  vale  of  tears, 
and  the  myriads  adoring  before  the  throne, 
what  an  immense  majority  are  acknowledg- 
ing, that  it  was  by  the  preaching  of  the  gos- 
pel that  as  sinners  they  were  converted  from 
the  error  of  their  ways.  Yet  be  it  remem- 
bered, that  the  usefulness  of  the  ministry  is 
not  to  be  confined  to  conversion.  It  helps 
those  much  who  have  believed  through  grace. 
It  builds  them  up  in  their  most  holy  faith  ; 
and  presents  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Je- 
sus. How  many  of  you  can  here  bear  a 
grateful  testimony.  How  often  has  the  mi- 
nister been  to  you  like  the  angel  to  Hagar  in 
the  parching  desert:  he  has  opened  your 
eyes  and  shown  you  a  well.  How  often  has 
he  removed  your  fears,  and  inspired  you  with 
holy  confidence.  How  often  has  he  strength- 
ened your  weak  hands  and  confirmed  your 
feeble  knees.  How  often  has  he  comforted 
you  in  all  your  tribulation,  so  that  you  have 
returned  home  able  to  face  with  fresh  cou- 
rage the  trials  of  life  again.  Perhaps  to  him 
you  owe  your  respectability  in  the  world; 
perhaps  to  his  wise  counsels  and  faithful  re- 
bukes you  owe  your  preservation  from  a  false, 
or  a  fatal  step,  that  would  have  involved  you 
in  mischief  or  ruin — perhaps  to  him  you  owe 
even  your  own  self  beside.  For  neither  is  the 
usefulness  of  the  ministry  to  be  judged  of  by 
its  saving  effects.  In  how  many  ways  does  it 
restrain  where  it  does  not  convert ;  and  mo- 
ralize where  it  does  not  sanctify.  Indeed,  with 
regard  to  the  morals  and  welfare  of  the  com- 
munity, we  are  persuaded,  if  an  accurate 
comparison  could  be  made,  more  would  be 
found  to  depend  on  ministers  than  magis- 
trates. In  the  largeness  of  our  wishes,  and 
while  reflecting  upon  the  degenerate  state 
of  every  neighbourhood,  after  all  the  means 
used  for  their  amendment,  we  sometimes  com- 
plain too  much,  and  are  not  aware  of  the  va- 
riety, and  the  degree  of  wholesome  and  happy 
effects  produced  by  religious  institutions. 
Were  our  altars  thrown  down,  our  sanctua- 
ries shut  up,  and  every  minister  silenced,  we 
should  soon  read,  in  frightful  style,  the  value 
of  an  office  which  too  many  despise. 

Finally.  We  appeal  to  the  divine  engage- 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


257 


merits.  For,  my  brethren,  God  lias  not  left 
the  institution  to  its  natural  tendency :  nei- 
ther arc  we  encouraged  and  animated  with 
regard  to  its  utility,  by  observation  and  ex- 
perience. .  We  have  his  word,  upon  which 
he  has  caused  us  to  hope,  and  the  Scripture 
cannot  be  broken.  He  has  said,  "  In  all 
places  where  I  record  my  name,  I  will  come 
unto  thee  and  I  will  bless  thee."  He  has 
said,  "  I  will  abundantly  bless  her  provisions, 
I  will  fill  her  poor  with  bread.  I  will  also 
clothe  her  priests  with  salvation,  and  her 
saints  shall  shout  aloud  for  joy."  He  has 
said,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world." 

Now  these  are  not  remarks  designed  to 
eke  out  a  discourse ;  neither  are  they  great 
swelling  words  of  vanity,  arising  from  a  wish 
to  give  a  disproportionate  importance  to  a 
calling  in  which  the  speaker  himself  is  placed. 
They  are  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness. 
They  are  reasonings ;  they  are  arguments ; 
they  are  proofs :  and  the  more  they  are  exa- 
mined fairly  and  impartially,  the  more  wor- 
thy of  countenance  and  support  will  the  mi- 
nisterial function  appear. 

And  therefore,  my  young  friend,  feel  the 
worth  of  your  work,  and  magnify,  not  your- 
self, but  your  office.  A  personal  valuation 
would  be  censurable,  but  a  relative,  is  both 
allowable  and  useful.  It  is  perfectly  compa- 
tible with  humbleness  of  mind,  while  it  will 
preclude  thoughtlessness  and  levity ;  and 
prevent  all  those  indecorums  and  buffoone- 
ries, from  which  you  have  been  so  exempla- 
rily  secured,  but  which  bring  discredit  on  so 
many  of  our  rising  priesthood.  It  will  make 
you  feel  your  responsibility;  it  will  be  a 
source  of  vigilance,  circumspection  and  pray- 
er ;  it  will  inspire  you  with  a  holy  anxiety 
to  walk  worthy  of  the  high  vocation  to  which 
you  are  called. 

And  you,  the  members  of  this  church  and 
congregation,  be  assured,  that  instead  of  re- 
buking your  pleasure  on  such  an  occasion  as 
this,  we  partake  of  it,  "  and  joy  and  rejoice 
with  you."  Yes,  these  are  reasons,  why  you 
should  hail  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  with 
which  you  are  favoured,  and  indulge  a  lively 
expectation  of  blessings  from  it.  But  the  ex- 
pectation must  not  be  unqualified.  We  wish 
not  to  diminish  the  regard  you  feel,  but  we 
would  purify  the  principle,  we  would  give 
it  a  safe  direction,  we  would  keep  it  within 
proper  bounds.    We  therefore  proceed, 

II.  To  observe,  That  you  may  overrate 
the  ministry;  and  to  specify  the  in- 
stances IN  WHICH  YOUR  RELIANCE  UPON  IT 
IS  IMPROPER, 

And  First,  It  appears  in  laying  an  undue 
stress  On  a  particular  description  of  its 
officers.  Micah  thought  nothing  of  the  cha- 
racter of  his  priest,  if  he  had  Lcvitical  blood 
in  him.  He  might  be  as  wicked  as  Satan,  if 
he  could  prove  legitimate  descent :  and  therc- 
2  K  22* 


fore,  though  he  knew  him  to  be  an  idle,  time- 
serving, hungry  hireling,  prostituting  himself 
to  the  service  of  idols  to  get  a  piece  of  bread, 
he  was  satisfied,  and  sung  out  his  supersti- 
tious confidence;  "Now  know  I  that  the 
Lord  will  do  me  good,  seeing  I  have  a  Levite 
to  my  priest."  What  ignorance  and  delu- 
sion, to  expect  that  the  divine  blessing  would 
assuredly  flow  through  such  fingers,  merely 
because  of  the  tribe  to  which  he  belonged  ! 
And  yet  are  there  not  persons,  in  a  much 
more  enlightened  period,  who  approximate 
the  same  folly]  Some,  whatever  may  be  his 
gifts  or  grace,  would  not  for  the  world  hear 
a  man  that  is  not  episcopally  sanctioned — yet 
will  hear  any  thing  upon  earth  that  is.  Yea, 
we  have  been  told,  that  in  this  country,  all 
who  worship  out  of  the  established  church  are 
left  to  the  uncovenanted  mercies  of  God ; 
that  all  their  ministers  are  destitute  of  a  le- 
gitimate authorization;  and  therefore  that 
all  their  ministrations  are  invalid.  Yet  it  is 
not  many  years  ago,  since  the  venerable 
Seeker  filled  our  metropolitan  chair  ;  but  he 
was  baptized  by  the  hands  of  dissenters,  with- 
out either  godfathers  or  godmothers  to  be  an- 
swerable for  him.  Yet  he  ordained  numbers 
to  the  sacred  office ;  and  what  is  more  la- 
mentable still,  he  baptized  his  present  Majes- 
ty, head  of  the  church,  all  of  which,  accord- 
ing to  this  principle,  was  null  and  void,  as 
being  performed  by  an  officiator  who  either 
had  no  baptism  himself,  or  a  useless  one. 
Nor  was  this  a  solitary  instance.  It  is  well 
known  that  bishop  Reynolds  in  England,  and 
Hopkins  in  Ireland,  and  Cooper  and  Leigh- 
ton  in  Scotland,  were  in  the  same  dilemma, 
so  that  all  they  did  personally,  and  all  that 
was  done  by  those  on  whom  they  laid  hands, 
was  illegal  and  ineffectual ;  and  now,  alas !  it 
is  to  be  feared,  that  it  is  too  late  to  stop  con- 
sequences, or  even  to  ascertain  the  multi- 
plied directions  in  which  the  unhallowed 
streams  have  run  ! ! — And  are  there  persons 
pretending  to  serious  religion,  who  know  the 
importance  of  doctrine,  and  of  holiness  in  a 
minister,  and  yet  can  recommend  people  to 
attend  on  a  man,  merely  because  he  is  a  Le- 
vite, however  wretched  in  living  and  teach- 
ing too — while  God  has  placed  near  them  a 
man  of  acknowledged  godliness,  and  who 
preaches  "  all  the  words  of  this  life."  O  tell 
it  not  in  Gath.  "  What  is  the  chaff  to  the 
wheat,  saith  the  Lord  !" 

But  let  us  turn  from  the  episcopalian  to  the 
academic.  A  degree  of  the  same  leaven 
works  nearer  home.  It  is,  blessed  be  God, 
the  boast  of  the  dissenters — forgive  us  this 
wrong — that  among  us,  office  never  has  been, 
and  never  can  be  a  substitute  for  morality  of 
character  and  truth  of  doctrine.  Yet  there 
was  a  time — for  there  is  less  of  it  than  for- 
merly— when  a  minister  was  rather  coldly 
received  and  lightly  regarded,  unless  he  had 
been  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  some  Garna- 


258 


AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REGULATE  THE  CLAIMS 


lieL  We  are  far  from  depreciating1  the 
schools  of  the  prophets.  A  thousand  advan- 
tages attend  a  solid  education  for  the  minis- 
try :  and  it  is  peculiarly  desirable  in  this  age 
of  increased  and  diffused  knowledge,  for 
young  men  to  be  initiated  into  their  work 
through  these  excellent  institutions,  which 
the  grace  of  God  has  provided.  But  if  we 
abuse  privileges  by  laying  too  much  stress 
upon  them,  God  will  pour  contempt  upon  our 
pride,  and  show  that  he  can  call  a  man  from 
the  field,  as  well  as  from  the  grove.  Some 
of  our  most  acceptable  and  successful  preach- 
ers have  been,  shall  I  say,  rather  irregularly 
introduced :  but  what  they  wanted  in  Leviti- 
cal  training,  they  made  up  in  diligence  and 
zeal :  and  while  their  more  learned  and  re- 
gular brethren,  who  rather  looked  suspicious- 
ly towards  them,  were  smoothing  their  dull 
periods,  and  softening  the  bells,  whose  "drow- 
sy tinklings  were  to  lull  the  distant  folds," 
these  men  with  burning  words,  and  fervent 
in  spirit,  rushed  forth  and  called  sinners  to 
repentance. 

Some  regard  only  a  man  of  genius  and 
splendid  abilities.  Talents  are  the  gifts  of 
God ;  and  it  is  delightful  to  see  extensive 
learning,  a  profound  understanding,  the  pow- 
er of  reasoning,  and  eloquence  of  speech, 
consecrated  to  the  use  of  the  sanctuary.  But 
it  is  not  to  be  concealed,  that  men  of  the 
mightiest  fame,  will  be  surrounded  hereafter 
by  a  small  number  of  converts,  compared 
with  some  whose  natural  and  acquired  en- 
dowments, never  raised  them  into  celebrity ; 
but  who  deeply  knew,  and  affectionately 
preached  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified. 
The  treasure  is  put  into  earthen  vessels,  that 
the  excellency  of  the  power  may  appear  to 
be  of  God,  and  not  of  man.  Dr.  Owen,  early 
in  his  ministry,  went  to  hear  Dr.  Calamy', 
one  of  the  most  famous  preachers  of  the  day. 
After  waiting  in  the  place  for  some  time,  he 
saw  ascending  the  pulpit,  a  plain  country 
man,  and  felt  disposed  to  go  out ;  but  rever- 
ence forbade.  He  was  soon  struck  with  his 
prayer  ;  and  still  more  with  his  sermon.  His 
text  was  "  O  ye  of  little  faith,  wherefore  do 
ye  doubt  V  and  he  entered  so  experimentally 
into  the  doubts  of  God's  people,  and  so  satis- 
factorily solved  them,  that  the  mind  of  this 
"  prince  of  divines"  as  Cecil  calls  him,  was 
so  effectually  released  from  a  burden  of  dis- 
tress, that  from  that  hour  he  went  on  his  way 
rejoicing.  And  I  know  a  man  who  was 
once  hearing  a  minister,  whose  preaching 
was  very  inferior  to  his  character.  At  first 
he  was  much  disappointed,  and  a  naughty 
temper  was  working  in  him,  but  he  received, 
he  hopes,  a  very  salutary  rebuke  by  seeing 
at  the  end  of  the  pew  a  poor  woman  bathed 
in  tears,  under  this  very  sermon  ;  and  he 
said  to  himself  "what  God  has  sanctified  call 
not  thou  common."  A  spruce,  self-conceited 
young  divine  was  recently  in  company,  turn- 


ing into  ridicule  a  very  plain,  but  laborious, 
useful  preacher  in  a  village.  There  are  oc- 
casions when  if  we  were  told  to  hold  our 
peace,  the  very  stones  would  cry  out.  A 
senior  minister  therefore  said,  "  Sir,  I  never 
heard  any  one  admire  you,  except  yourself ; 
but  I  have  heard  many  speak  well  of  the  la- 
bours of  this  good  man.  I  have  never  heard 
of  any  good  you  have  done ;  but  I  have  ad- 
mitted two  members  into  my  church  both  of 
whom  were  lately  awakened  by  his  familiar 
addresses." 

Some  are  entirely  wrapped  up  in  a  favour- 
ite. A  preference  is  allowable ;  and  I  hope 
it  will  always  among  you,  be  in  favour  of  the 
man  you  have  voluntarily  chosen.  But  he 
cannot,  he  ought  not  to  be  always,  confined  to 
this  pulpit.  Others  must  preach  occasion- 
ally ;  and  how  censurable  will  it  be,  if  they 
look  down  and  see  empty  pews;  if  they 
watch  ill  visages  coming  up  the  isles,  and 
malignant  features  in  the  seats — that  seem 
to  say  to  God,  that  he  could  not  bless  them 
now,  if  he  would.  Some  if  they  know  it 
will  not  go  unless  their  idol  is  to  preach;  but 
when  he  is  present,  it  is  enough ;  they  think 
of  nothing  else;  and  go  with  the  presump- 
tion "  now  know  I  that  the  Lord  will  do  me 
good."  "  But  might  not  this  idolatry  justly 
provoke  God  to  remove  this  robber  of  His 
glory,  or  to  render  his  services  unprofitable]" 
"  For  ye  are  yet  carnal  1  For  whereas  there 
is  among  you  envying,  and  strife,  and  divi- 
sions, are  ye  not  carnal,  and  walk  as  men1! 
For  while  one  saith,  I  am  of  Paul;  and  an- 
other, I  am  of  Apollos;  are  ye  not  carnal? 
Who  then  is  Paul,  and  who  is  Apollos,  but 
ministers  by  whom  ye  believed,  even  as  the 
Lord  gave  to  every  man  1  I  have  planted, 
Apollos  watered ;  but  God  gave  the  increase. 
So  then,  neither  is  he  that  planteth  any 
thing,  neither  he  that  watereth;  but  God  that 
giveth  the  increase." 

Secondly.  You  improperly  rely  upon  it, 
when  you  view  it  as  the  only  medium  of  use- 
fulness. It  is  owing  to  this,  that  some  pious 
men,  concerned  to  do  good  (and  such  a  con- 
cern is  natural  to  the  new  creature)  are 
eager  to  enter  the  sacred  office  when  they 
have  little  encouragement  from  the  provi- 
dence of  God.  Hence  they  often  leave  their 
callings,  and  involve  themselves  in  worldly 
difficulties — not  considering  that  there  are 
numberless  ways  in  which  we  may  glorify 
God  and  serve  our  generation  according  to 
his  will,  without  our  assuming  the  ministerial 
character.  Paul  speaks  even  of  "women 
that  laboured  with  him  in  the  gospel :"  not  by 
preaching,  for  this  he  interdicts,  but  by  in- 
fluences and  exertions  becoming  their  sex 
and  their  condition  in  life.  And  blessed  be 
God  in  our  day,  we  know  how  to  understand 
this.  We  have  multiplied  proofs  that  females 
can  co-operate  with  ministers  in  the  advance- 
ment of  the  cause  of  God.    Witness  those 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


259 


young  women  who  devote  so  many  of  their 
leisure  hours  to  the  instruction  of  our  Sun- 
day-schools. Witness  those  mothers  and 
grandmothers,  who  from  children  teach  their 
Timothies  to  know  the  holy  Scriptures, 
which  are  able  to  make  them  wise  unto  sal- 
vation. Witness  those  wives  who  by  their 
"  chaste  conversation  coupled  with  fear,"  and 
"  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit," 
"  win"  their  husbands  "  without  the  word." 
Witness  those  handmaids  who  by  early  rising, 
and  order  and  cleanliness  and  fidelity,  and 
not  answering  again,  "  adorn  the  doctrine  of 
God  our  Saviour  in  all  things."  A  man  may 
carry  on  business,  and  devote  a  good  portion 
of  it  to  the  support  and  spreading  of  the  gos- 
pel :  and  he  labours  for  God  in  the  shop,  while 
another  pleads  for  him  in  the  pulpit :  and  I 
feel  it  my  duty  to  pray  for  the  success  of  the 
tradesman,  as  well  as  of  the  preacher — They 
are  both  God's  servants. 

And  as  God  is  not  to  be  confined  to  this  ex- 
pedient in  doing  good  by  us,  neither  is  He  to 
be  confined  to  it,  in  doing  good  to  us.  The 
Holy  One  of  Israel  may  limit  us,  but  we  must 
not  limit  Him.  He  dwelleth  not  exclusively 
in  temples  made  with  hands  :  neither  are 
ministers  the  only  mediums  of  His  gracious 
communications.  Preaching  is  indeed  the 
ordinary  means  by  which  He  converts,  edi- 
fies, and  comforts  His  people ;  and  His  people 
therefore  prize  it ;  and  He  induces  even  those 
who  never  had  the  advantage  to  long  after  it ; 
and  He  will  not  sanction  our  neglect,  not 
even  our  occasional  neglect,  not  even  the 
neglect  of  the  week-day  service,  when  it  is 
in  our  power  to  attend.  Yet  persons  may  be 
called  to  travel  in  "  a  dry  and  thirsty  land 
where  no  water  is."  They  may  be  removed 
by  business  into  a  neighbourhood  where  the 
dispensation  of  the  gospel  is  not  enjoyed. 
They  may  be  confined  by  accident,  disease, 
or  infirmity  from  the  courts  of  the  Lord,  in  a 
kind  of  domestic  exile — But  in  cases  like 
these,  when  they  are  unable  to  follow  Him, 
He  will  follow  them.  He  will  teach  them 
by  the  rod,  when  they  cannot  hear  the  word. 
He  will  be  "  a  little  sanctuary  to  them  in  the 
midst  of  the  heathen  :"  and  where  they  little 
expected  any  thing  either  of  God  or  glory, 
give  them  reason  often  to  exclaim  "  This  is 
no  other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the 
gate  of  heaven."  And  have  you  not  found 
private  devotion,  the  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, family  worship,  meetings  for  social 
prayer,  Christian  conversation — have  you  not 
found  these,  profitable  as  well  as  the  minis- 
try of  the  word  ] 

i  Thirdly.  It  is  unduly  regarded  when  you 
suppose  it  can  do  you  any  good  without  the 
influence  of  the  spirit  of  God.  This  is  a 
lesson  which  ministers  must  learn.  In  pro- 
portion, my  dear  brother,  as  you  learn  it,  you 
are  likely  to  be  useful.  It  will  make  you 
not  less  studious,  but  more  prayerful.  You 


will  honour  God  more  by  your  dependence, 
and  them  that  honour  Him,  He  will  honour. 
You  will  then  also  be  encouraged  and  ani- 
mated in  your  work,  not  according  to  the  de- 
gree of  your  learning,  or  eloquence,  or  rea- 
soning powers,  but  the  sufficiency  of  his 
grace,  and  the  promise  he  has  given:  "As 
the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from 
heaven,  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  water- 
eth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and 
bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and 
bread  to  the  eater ;  so  shall  my  word  be  that 
goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth :  it  shall  not  re- 
turn unto  me  void;  but  it  shall  accomplish 
that  which  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the 
thing  whereto  I  sent  it." — And  people  must 
learn  this  lesson,  if  they  would  hear  to  profit. 
God  would  be  accessary  to  idolatry,  had  he 
established  any  religious  means  that  would 
become  substitutes  for  his  presence,  or  draw 
you  off  from  dependence  upon  himself.  He 
will  convince  you  by  experience,  as  well  as 
Scripture,  that  instruments  however  suitable 
in  themselves,  and  though  divinely  appointed, 
can  do  nothing  without  his  own  agency.  He 
will  bring  you  to  look  beyond  means,  and  to 
cease  from  man ;  for  in  this,  as  well  as  in  every 
thing  else, 

"  Sure  as  on  creatures  we  depend, 
Our  hopes  in  disappointment  end." 

The  gospel  is  expressly  called  "  the  ministra- 
tion of  the  spirit,"  and  it  is  so  denominated, 
not  only  to  account  for  its  revelation,  but  its 
efficiency.  "  Our  gospel,"  says  the  apostle  to 
the  Thessalonian  converts,  "  came  to  you  not 
in  word  only,  but  in  power,  and  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  in  much  assurance."  When  Paul 
and  Barnabas  went  forth  preaching,  "  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  them,"  and  as  the 
result,  "  many  believed  and  turned  unto  the 
Lord." 

Fourthly.  You  improperly  rest  upon  it 
when  you  imagine  it  can  do  you  good,  without 
your  own  concern  and  concurrence.  There 
are  some  who  seem  to  believe  that  preaching 
is  to  operate  like  a  charm;  and  that  it  is 
enough  to  wear  the  talisman,  without  think- 
ing of  it.  They  appear  to  confound  it  with 
those  physical  causes  in  nature,  which  act 
without  our  anxiety,  or  even  our  knowledge. 
The  process  of  digestion,  the  circulation  of 
the  blood,  the  secretion  and  mixture  of  the 
spirits  and  fluids,  all  these  agencies  go  on  as 
well  when  we  are  asleep  as  when  we  are 
awake.  But  is  this  the  case  with  your  reli- 
gious instruction  and  improvement'!  Can  these 
go  on,  not  only  when  you  are  attentive  to 
the  word,  but  when  you  are  slumbering  under 
it?  Moral  means  can  only  operate  morally. 
Even  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  does  not 
supersede,  or  even  alter  this  process.  When 
God  sanctifies  our  powers,  he  engages  and 
employs  them.  He  does  not  work  upon  man 
as  mechanics  work  upon  dead  matter,  where 
the  timber  and  the  stone  are  unconscious  of 


2G0 


AN  ATTEMPT  TO  REGULATE  THE  CLAIMS 


the  operation  of  the  saw  and  the  chisel,  and 
senseless  of  the  uses  for  which  they  arc  pre- 
paring them.  God  does  not  work  vpon  us  at 
all. — Ho  works  in  us :  and  he  works  in  us  to 
tvill  and  to  do.  So  that  what  he  does  for  us, 
is  not  yet  done  without  us.  We  are  the  in- 
struments as  well  as  the  subjects  of  his  opera- 
tion. He  teaches,  but  he  does  not  learn.  He 
does  not  repent,  but  leads  us  to  repentance. 
He  does  not  pray,  but  inclines  and  enables  us 
to  pray <  and  so  of  the  rest.  Now  let  us  ap- 
ply this  axiom  to  the  case  before  us.  The 
minister's  thinking-  is  not  to  hinder  your 
thinking,  but  to  aid  it.  What  he  delivers 
will  do  you  no  good,  hut  as  you  understand  it, 
and  believe  it,  and  receive  it,  and  remember 
it,  and  act  upon  it.  If  you  retire  and  pray 
before  you  go ;  if  you  enter  the  house  of  God 
with  seriousness,  and  ask,  "  Lord,  what  wilt 
thou  have  me  to  do  !" — If  instead  of  hearing- 
for  others,  you  apply  to  your  own  souls  the 
doctrine  or  the  duties  you  hear :  if  you  re- 
solve in  the  strength  of  the  Lord,  to  forsake 
whatever  you  shall  be  convinced  is  wrong, 
and  to  pursue  truth,  regardless  of  conse- 
quences: if  laying  aside  all  malice,  and  all 
guile,  and  hypocrisies,  and  envies,  and  all  evil 
speakings,  as  new  born  babes  you  desire  the 
sincere  milk  of  the  word,  that  you  may  grow 
thereby : — You  may  then  reasonably  and 
scripturally  conclude  that  God  will  surely  do 
you  good,  and  that  your  coming  together  will 
be  for  the  better,  and  not  for  the  worse  :  for 
he  has  said,  "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  heareth 
me,  watching  daily  at  my  gates,  waiting  at 
the  posts  of  my  doors." — "  Blessed  are  they 
that  hear  the  word  of  God  and  do  it." 
"  Whoso  looketh  into  the  perfect  law  of 
liberty,  and  continueth  therein,  he  being  not 
a  forgetful  hearer,  but  a  doer  of  the  work, 
this  man  shall  be  blessed  in  his  deed."  But 
if  you  come  here  from  mere  custom  or  curi- 
osity ;  if  you  come  only  to  criticise,  or  to 
controvert ;  if  you  come  like  Ezekiel's  hear- 
ers, because  the  prophet  is  like  "  one  that 
hath  a  pleasant  voice,  and  can  play  well  on 
an  instrument ;"  if  you  turn  a  solemn  ordi- 
nance into  a  mere  amusement,  and  disregard 
the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  in  quest  of  good 
language  and  flights  of  fancy  ;  if  you  begin 
without  God,  and  retire  without  reflection; 
you  have  no  warrant  to  hope  for  any  saving 
advantage.    Yea,  it  is  the  way 

III.  To  TURN  THE  BLESSING  INTO  A  CURSE; 
AND  TO  RENDER  THE  MINISTRY  THE  VERY 
PLEDGE  AND  OCCASION  OF  YOUR  SPIRITUAL 
AND    EVERLASTING  INJURY  AND   RUIN.  This 

is  a  very  awful  part  of  our  subject,  not  only 
as  there  is  a  possibility  but  also  a  probability 
that  it  will  he  exemplified  in  many,  very 
many,  who  attend  the  preaching  of  the  word. 
But  I  dare  not  keep  it  back.  I  must  remark 
four  things. 

First.  You  are  in  great  danger  of  soulr 
delusion.    Why  else  does  the  apostle  .lames 


say,  "  But  be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not 
hearers  only  deceiving  your  ownselves  1"  It 
is  a  thousand  times  better  to  have  a  wounded 
spirit,  than  a  seared  conscience ;  a  thousand 
times  better  to  "  write  bitter  things  against" 
ourselves,  than  to  "  cry,  peace,  peace,  when 
there  is  no  peace."  "  Wo  to  them  that  are 
at  ease  in  Zion." — But  observe  how  the  man 
is  lulled  into  a  belief  of  his  religion  and  safety, 
when  he  has  none.  We  are  too  prone  to 
think  well  of  people  solely  because  of  their 
attachment  to  a  particular  place  of  worship. 
We  forget  that  in  our  day,  there  are  few 
populous  neighbourhoods  in  which  the  gospel 
is  not  preached ;  and  that  an  attendance  may 
be  maintained  on  the  most  evangelical  means 
accompanied  by  every  kind  of  conduct;  so 
that  the  habit  is  no  criterion.  Yet  when  per- 
sons become  frequent  and  fixed  hearers,  when 
they  seem  to  listen  with  attention,  and  are 
accustomed  to  express  their  approbation  of 
what  is  delivered,  we  are  too  apt  to  set  them 
down  as  decided,  or  at  least  as  very  promis- 
ing characters ;  and  their  reputation  con- 
tributes to  their  self-confidence,  for  we  natu- 
rally and  strongly  lean  to  a  favourable  opin- 
ion entertained  of  us  by  others.  The  delu- 
sion is  increased,  by  attaching  themselves  to 
the  ministrations  of  a  man  noted  for  his  plain 
dealing,  and  their  being  able  to  abide  all  his 
faithfulness  and  severity,  while  others  are 
offended  and  flee.  It  is  fed  by  the  considera- 
tion that  they  have  been  convinced  and 
alarmed ;  and  that  in  their  temporary  and 
selfish  distress,  some  promise  occurred  to 
their  mind,  which  without  hesitation  they 
applied,  and  felt  relieved.  It  is  strengthen- 
ed, if  they  have  sometimes  heard  the  word 
with  joy,  and  had  their  natural  feelings 
powerfully  excited  by  the  eloquence  and 
energy  of  the  speaker. — And  now — now,  no- 
thing comes  pure  into  their  minds;  every 
thing  is  perverted  and  poisoned  in  its  passage, 
by  this  self-delusion.  The  sorrow  of  the 
world,  which  they  must  sometimes  feel,  is 
viewed  by  them  as  that  godly  sorrow  which 
worketh  repentance  unto  life.  The  admoni- 
tions of  the  preacher,  urging  the  children  of 
promise  not  to  be  faithless  but  believing,  they 
apply  to  themselves,  and  repel  with  earnest- 
ness every  suspicion  of  the  reality  of  their 
religion,  every  inducement  to  self-examina- 
tion as  the  temptations  of  the  devil  to  doubt 
and  unbelief — while  without  pain,  without 
concern  they  are  led  to  view  their  wrong 
tempers,  their  offences  in  word,  their  forget- 
fulness  of  duty,  the  coldness  of  their  zeal,  and 
the  reluctance  of  their  charity,  as  the  infirmi- 
ties of  the  dear  people  of  God;  for  Paul  him- 
self felt  a  law  in  his  members  warring  against 
the  law  of  his  mind,  and  said  when  he  would 
do  good,  evil  was  present  with  him ! — An 
alarm!  I  sound  an  alarm  in  the  camp! — An 
enemy  has  crept  in,  and  is  harboured  under 
the  mask  of  a  friend  !    I  hardly  know  a  plan 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


261 


for  tranquillizing  the  conscience  without  put- 
ting it  in  a  state  of  safety,  like  this.  It  is  an 
expedient  that  requires  far  less  sacrifice  and 
self-denial  than  any  other  with  which  we  are 
acquainted.  And  as  it  is  the  most  cheap  so 
it  is  the  least  suspected,  and  therefore  the 
likeliest  to  be  employed  often,  by  a  being  who 
can  "transform  himself  into  an  angel  of 
light."  For  this  deceiver  takes  men,  not  only 
according  to  their  tastes,  but  their  convic- 
tions. What  he  is  doing  in  the  work  of  de- 
lusion in  the  church  of  Rome  by  pilgrimages 
and  penance,  and  relics,  and  holy  water,  he 
is  too  wise,  too  skilful  to  attempt  by  the  same 
means,  among  protestants.  His  purpose 
would  be  frustrated  by  the  use  of  follies  so 
bare  and  exploded.  He  knows  the  difference 
between  Madrid  and  London:  and  he  also 
knows  the  difference  between  congregations 
hearing  nothing  but  moral  doctrine  and  salva- 
tion by  works ;  and  those  assemblies  which 
are  blessed  "  with  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus." 
In  a  large  and  very  growing  class  of  Chris- 
tians, both  in  the  establishment  and  out  of  it, 
he  will  not  destroy,  (allow  me  a  strange 
phraseology)  as  a  superstitious,  and  self-right- 
eous ;  but  as  an  evangelical  devil — by  the 
very  means  of  grace — by  a  mere  attendance 
upon,  and — a  barren  approbation  of,  a  gospel 
minister. 

Secondly.  You  are  in  great  danger  of 
■penal  obduracy.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 
judicial  impenitency.  It  is  indeed  no  ordi- 
nary guilt  that  provokes  it;  as  we  see  in 
Pharoah  whose  heart  "the  Lord  hardened," 
And,  Is  not— let  me  ask,  Is  not  the  guilt  of 
those  of  you  who  sit  under  the  sound  of  the 
gospel  faithfully  and  affectionately  preached ; 
Is  not  your  guilt  peculiarly  great?  Have 
not  you  been  reproved  and  warned  much 
oftener  than  Pharoah  !  Has  not  God  spoken 
unto  you  by  his  Son!  Have  you  not  had 
"life  and  death  set  before  you"  in  the  most 
pleasing  and  awful  forms]  Have  you  not 
been  "  woed  and  awed,  blessed  and  chas- 
tised ?"  Have  not  the  messages  of  the  word 
been  enforced  by  the  uneasinesses  of  con- 
science; the  admonitions  of  friendship;  the 
afflictions  of  Providence;  by  personal  sick- 
ness; by  family  bereavements?  Yet  you 
have  made  him,  year  after  year,  stretch  forth 
his  hands  all  the  day  long  to  a  disobedient 
and  gainsaying  people — and  in  the  very 
"  place  of  the  holy"  you  remain  "  filthy  still." 
And  would  it  then  be  wonderful  if  God  should 
send  this  young  minister  with  the  direful 
commission  he  addressed  to  Isaiah,  "  Go  and 
tell  this  people,  hear  ye  indeed,  but  under- 
stand not;  and  see  ye  indeed,  but  perceive 
not.  Make  the  heart  of  this  people  fat,  and 
make  their  ears  heavy,  and  shut  their  eyes ; 
lest  they  see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with 
their  ears,  and  understand  with  their  heart, 
and  convert,  and  be  healed."  This  can  be 
fulfilled  as  effectually  by  withholding  a  neces- 


sary influence,  as  by  any  positive  infliction. 
If  food  be  deprived  of  its  power  to  nourish, 
we  die  in  the  midst  of  plenty ;  yea,  with  the 
very  elements  of  life  in  our  lips.  And  do 
you  apprehend  no  danger  1  Do  you  feel  no 
dread ! 

If  when  the  rain  fell  upon  your  neighbour's 
field,  yours  was  always  seen  dry  and  parch- 
ed :  If,  when  the  sun  shone  upon  the  sur- 
rounding garden,  a  dark  cloud  overshadowed 
yours — you  would  be  instantly  alarmed — you 
would  be  filled  with  horror — you  would  in- 
quire, by  what  peculiar  offence  you  had  pro- 
voked Him  to  signalize  you  as  the  victim  of 
his  displeasure.  And  yet — yet  you  feel  no- 
thing, though  you  have  seen  numbers  awaken- 
ed and  converted,  sanctified  and  comforted 
by  the  word,  while  you  have  remained  the 
same  under  all  these  salutary  administrations 
— perhaps  five — perhaps  ten — perhaps  twenty 
years — 

But  setting  aside  a  penal  obduracy  there 
is — 

Thirdly,  what  may  be  termed  an  acquired 
impenitency  the  natural  result  of  conduct. 
Thus  a  heart  may  be  "  hardened  through  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin  ;"  sin  flattering  the  trans- 
gressor and  alluring  him  on,  till  what  was 
occasional  becomes  constant ;  and  practice 
produces  confirmed  habits — and  as  well  says 
the  prophet  may  "  the  Ethiopian  change  his 
skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots,  as  they  learn  to 
do  good  who  are  accustomed  to  do  evil." 
And  the  heart  is  perhaps  equally  hardened 
by  a  course  of  unsanctified  familiarity  with 
the  ordinances  o'f  religion.  No  characters 
are  so  unlikely  to  be  wrought  upon,  as  those 
who  have  heard  till  they  are  "  past  feeling" 
and  have  been  seized  with  "  the  spirit  of 
slumber."  When  Paul  preached  before  Felix 
and  Drusilla,  as  he  reasoned  of  "  temperance, 
righteousness  and  judgment  to  come,"  which 
of  them  "  trembled  ?"  not  Drusilla — she  was 
a  Jewess  :  but  Felix  who  was  a  heathen.  She 
was  accustomed  to  the  sparks;  but  they  were 
new  to  him  and  he  startled.  He  had  never 
heard  the  bell  before — but  she  had  lived  hard 
by  the  church,  and  could  sleep  under  the 
chimes,  and  the  tollings  too.  We  can  usual- 
ly distinguish  a  new  hearer  in  our  assemblies ; 
he  is  struck ;  he  listens ;  and  sometimes  seems 
forced  to  do  it,  in  spite  of  himself.  But  there 
is  often  a  lolling,  a  kind  of  careless  ease,  an 
air  of  indifference,  an  unsusceptibleness  of 
impression,  in  older  hearers  that  seem  to  say 
"  We  know  all  this — and  only  know  it/' — I 
cannot  be  chargeable  with  personal  reflection 
as  I  am  ignorant  of  individuals  in  this  assem- 
bly. I  can  only  draw  the  bow  at  a  venture, 
but  O  God  if"  the  culprit  be  present,  direct 
the  arrow  between  the  joints  and  the  harness. 
Are  there  none  here  who  once  heard,  and 
felt  powerfully  under  the  word  ?  You  then 
feared — you  wept — you  resolved — you  pro- 
mised, you  forsook  your  vices — you  sometimes 


262 


OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 


even  entered  your  closet — you  seemed  to 
walk  with  God.  But  after  a  time  these  con- 
victions were  starved  away,  and  you  return- 
ed again  to  folly.  You  neglected  private 
prayer,  and  began  to  tamper  with  sin;  at 
first  in  slighter  instances,  and  then  in  more 
criminal — and  perhaps  though  concealed 
from  the  eye  of  the  world,  you  are  now  liv- 
ing in  dishonesty,  or  drunkenness,  or  cham- 
bering and  wantonness — and  yet  retain  your 
place  in  the  house  of  God.  And  now  nothing 
you  hear  affects  you — nothing  however 
threatening  alarms  you — nothing  however 
tender  melts  you. — But  now,  after  the  hard- 
ness and  impenitence  of  your  heart  you  come 
here  "  treasuring  up  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath  and  revelation  of  the  righteous  judg- 
ment of  God."  For 

Finally,  you  are  exposed  to  aggravated 
misery  as  the  final  result  of  misused  privi- 
leges. If  you  perish  you  will  have  no  cloak 
for  your  sin,  and  no  alleviation  of  your  pu- 
nishment. Your  condemnation  first,  will  not 
be  the  condemnation  of  a  Heathen.  "  The 
men  of  Nineveh  shall  rise  in  judgment  with 
this  generation,  and  shall  condemn  it;  be- 
cause they  repented  at  the  preaching  of  Jo- 
nas ;  and,  behold  a  greater  than  Jonas  is  here. 
The  queen  of  the  south  shall  rise  up  in  the 
judgment  with  this  generation,  and  shall 
condemn  it :  for  she  came  from  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon ;  and,  behold  a  greater  than  Solomon  is 
here."  "  But  I  say  unto  you,  it  shall  be  more 
tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon  at  the  day  of 
judgment  than  for  you."  Your  condemna- 
tion, secondly,  will  not  be  the  condemna- 
tion of  a  Jew.  "  See  that  ye  refuse  not  him 
that  speaketh ;  for  if  they  escaped  not  who 
refused  him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more 
shall  not  we  escape,  if  we  turn  away  from 
him  that  speaketh  from  heaven."  "  He  that 
despised  Moses'  law,  died  without  mercy  un- 
der two  or  three  witnesses;  of  how  much 
sorer  punishment,  suppose  ye,  shall  he  be 
thought  worthy,  who  hath  trodden  under  foot 
the  Son  of  God,  and  hath  counted  the  blood 


of  the  covenant,  wherewith  he  was  sanctified, 
an  unholy  thing,  and  hath  done  despite  unto 
the  spirit  of  grace !"  Your  condemnation 
thirdly,  will  not  be  the  condemnation  of  a 
Christian  ill-instructed  and  neglected — the 
condemnation  of  a  Papist,  who  was  denied 
the  use  of  the  Scripture,  and  led  by  a  blind 
guide — or  the  condemnation  of  a  Protestant, 
who  never  heard  "  the  word  of  his  grace"  to 
which  God  alone  gives  "testimony;"  but  of 
one  whose  pastor  kept  him  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  and  with  tears  "  prayed  him  in  Christ's 
stead  to  be  reconciled  unto  God."  Yours, 
will  not  be  fourthly,  the  condemnation  of  a 
devil — The  estate  which  he  kept  not,  is  no- 
thing compared  with  that  which  you  have 
rejected — Jesus  took  not  on  him  the  nature 
of  angels — They  never  neglected  "  so  great 
salvation" — They  never  refused  a  pardon — It 
was  never  offered  them. 

Ah !  said  Simeon  as  he  delivered  back  the 
adorable  babe  into  the  arms  of  his  mother — 
"  This  child  is  set  for  the  falling  and  rising 
again  of  many  in  Israel."  The  same  may  be 
said  of  the  destiny  of  this  young  man.  Some 
— oh !  that  it  may  be  many  ! — Some  will  hail 
the  hour  they  heard  him,  when  they  come 
to  die,  and  the  memory  of  it  will  delight 
them  through  all  eternity.  Others — may 
you  all  go  home  and  ask  "Lord  is  it  I?" 
others  will  execrate  the  day  he  arrived  among 
them.  Of  all  the  objects  that  will  haunt  their 
wretched  imaginations  hereafter,  the  chief 
will  be  the  figure  of  this  pulpit;  and  of  all 
the  food  for  the  worm  that  never  dies,  and 
the  fuel  for  the  fire  that  never  shall  be 
quenched,  the  principal  will  be  the  sermons 
which  he  has  delivered  in  vain  from  it.  His 
ministry  cannot  be  neutral.  It  must  be  a 
blessing  or  a  curse.  It  cannot  be  inefficient 
It  must  either  kill  or  cure — save  or  destroy. 
"  For  we  are  unto  God  a  sweet  savour  of 
Christ,  in  them  that  are  saved,  and  in  them 
that  perish.  To  the  one  we  are  the  savour 
of  death  unto  death ;  and  to  the  other  the  sa- 
vour of  life  unto  life :  and  who  is  sufficient 
for  these  things." 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED: 

A  SERMON, 

PREACHED  AUGUST  9, 1820,  AT  SALTER  S  HALL, 
BEFORE 

"THE  HOME  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY," 

BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


TO  THOMAS  TOMPSON,  ESQ.  TREASURER  TO  "  THE  HOME 
MISSIONARY  SOCIETY;" 

One  of  its  first  movers,  and  most  zealous  and  liberal  supporters  ;  as  also 
the  impartial  friend  of  every  institution,  that  keeps  in  view  the  welfare  of 
man,  and  the  glory  of  God  our  Saviour :  This  Sermon,  as  a  token  of  re- 
spect for  his  character,  and  from  a  wish  to  recommend  his  example ;  is 
affectionately  dedicated  by  The  Author. 


"  I -would  have  you  -without  carefulness.  He 
that  is  unmarried  careth  for  the  things  that 
belong  to  the  Lord,  ho-w  he  may  please  the 
Lord :  but  he  that  is  married  careth  for  the 
things  that  are  of  the  -world,  how  he  may 
please  his  -wife." — 1  Cor.  vii.  32,  33. 

Marriage  may  be  a  very  bad  thing,  or  it 
may  prove  a  very  good  thing.  It  is  capable 
of  producing  numberless  advantages,  or  of 
entailing  miseries,  of  which  death  only  is  the 
cure :  and  as  to  some  of  them,  not  even  this. 
In  the  very  nature  of  the  ordinance,  it  can- 
not be  an  indifferent  event — it  must  have  a 
very  commanding  influence  over  our  charac- 
ter and  our  condition.  And  hence  the  Scrip- 
ture is  so  frequent  and  particular  in  its  refer- 
ences to  it. 

Yet,  momentous  as  the  subject  is,  I  appear 
not  before  you  this  morning,  to  deliver  a  lec- 
ture on  marriage.  I  am  not  going  to  lead 
you  to  the  altar,  but  to  the  cross.  I  am  not 
going  to  inquire  in  what  manner,  or  at  what 
period,  you  should  enter  wedded  life.  I  am 
not  going  to  determine,  whether  he  that 
marrieth  doth  well,  or  he  that  marrieth  not 
doth  better — but  to  "  beseech  you,  brethren, 


and  exhort  you  by  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  as  ye 
have  received  of  us,  how  ye  ought  to  walk 
and  please  God,  so  ye  would  abound  more  and 
more." 

It  may  not  however  be  improper  to  observe, 
that  the  apostle  is  not  here  opposing  or  de- 
preciating marriage,  in  itself.    Indeed  no 
one  of  the  sacred  writers,  has  said  so  much 
in  commendation  of  it.    He  tells  us  that 
"  marriage  is  honourable  in  all :"  and  makes 
no  scruple  to  rank  the  "  forbidding  to  marry," 
among  "  the  doctrines  of  devils." — But  he  is 
referring  to  a  peculiar  condition  of  the  church. 
The  avoiding  it,  if  practicable,  "  is,"  says  the 
apostle,  "  good  for  the  present  distress." 
That  is:  it  was  a  season  of  persecution. 
Many  were  deprived  of  their  substance ; 
expelled  from  their  houses  ;  and  had  no  cer- 
tain dwelling-place — and  "  wo  to  them  that 
are  with  child,  and  to  them  that  give  suck  in 
those  days."    Many  also  were  called  to  lead 
an  evangelizing  or  missionary  life.  They 
were  to  cross  seas,  to  travel  from  province  to 
province,  and  from  country  to  country — fly- 
ing like  angels,  "  having  the  everlasting 
gospel  to  preach  unto  them  that  dwell  upon 
the  earth,  and  to  every  nation,  and  kindred, 
263 


264 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


and  tongue,  and  people."  Now  suppose  them 
married,  in  such  a  case  as  this.  It  is  easy  to 
see,  that — if  they  took  their  wives  and  child- 
ren along1  with  them,  they  would  prove  a 
hinderance ;  or  if  they  left  them  behind,  a 
source  of  anxiety.  Upon  this  principle,  the 
two  leaders  of  methodism  should  have  re- 
mained single. — Their  plan  of  life  was  in- 
consistent with  the  advantages  and  duties  of 
the  married  state.  Accordingly  neither  of 
them  was  happy  in  it.  For  the  same  reason, 
a  preacher  while  labouring,  as  an  itinerant, 
should  forbear  the  condition ;  because  he  must 
live  in  the  violation  or  neglect  of  those  atten- 
tions, which  the  Bible  enjoins  upon  him,  as 
a  master,  a  father,  a  husband,  who  is  "  to 
dwell  with  his  wife  according  to  knowledge." 
Hence,  says  the  Apostle,  "  I  would  have  you 
without  carefulness." 

Yea,  further,  the  apostle  admits  that  where 
there  is  a  disposition  to  marry,  it  should  be 
repressed  on  a  religious  ground  only.  For 
why  would  he  have  them  without  careful- 
ness 1  "  He  that  is  unmarried  careth  for  the 
things  of  the  Lord,  how  he  may  please  the 
Lord."  He  scorns  to  mention  as  an  objection, 
the  reason  of  the  infidel,  and  the  libertine — 
"  That  he  may  have  more  vicious  freedom." 
Yea,  he  disdains  to  notice  the  excuse  of  those 
who  remain  solitary,  "  Because  they  shall  be 
under  less  obligation  to  labour,  and  incur 
fewer  difficulties  and  inconveniences."  There 
are  trials  attached  to  every  condition :  and  to 
make  these  the  ground  of  declining  the 
duties  of  wedded  life,  is  selfish,  sordid,  un- 
manly, unchristian.  No,  says  the  apostle,  if 
it  be  declined,  let  it  be  declined  from  a  no- 
bler principle,  viz.  That  you  may  be  more 
free  to  serve  and  honour  the  Lord.  This  is 
the  rule  by  which  his  followers  should  always 
walk ;  this  is  the  standard  by  which  they 
should  always  judge. 

Once  more.  He  even  allows  that  when  a 
man  has  entered  this  state,  he  ought  to  con- 
form to  it.  The  gospel  is  not  to  draw  him 
off  from  the  claims  of  morality ;  nor  is,  even 
the  saint  or  the  minister,  to  encroach  upon 
the  husband.  "  He  that  is  married  careth 
for  the  things  of  the  world,  how  he  may 
please  his  wife." — Not  without  distinction 
and  qualification — not  in  all  things.  If,  like 
Eve,  she  would  induce  him  to  break  a  divine 
command :  if  she  would  draw  him  away  from 
hearing  the  gospel,  to  attend  a  place  of  more 
fashionable  divinity:  if  she  would  involve 
him  in  extravagance  and  expense,  to  rival 
neighbours  in  finery  and  show  :  if  instead  of 
being  a  keeper  at  home,  she  would  be  always 
exhibiting  abroad,  and  in  public : — here  con- 
science must  interpose  :  here  a  Saviour  must 
be  heard ;  "  He  that  loveth — even  his  wife, 
more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me."  But 
a  man's  chief  attentions  are  due  to  the  wife 
of  his  bosom.  From  the  very  nature  of  the 
alliance  ;  from  the  confidence  she  lias  reposed 


in  him;  from  the  sacrifices  she  has  made  for 
him  ;  and  the  nameless  anxieties,  pains,  and 
perils,  which  attend  the  relation,  on  her  side, 
she  has  peculiar  and  unrivalled  titles  to  his 
regards.  "  No  man,"  says  our  apostle — he 
does  not  say  no  monster :  "  no  man,  ever 
yet  hated  his  own  flesh,  but  nourisheth  and 
chcrisheth  it,  even  as  the  Lord  the  church." 
It  is  undeniable  from  our  text  itself,  that  it 
is  the  duty  of  a  husband  to  please  his  wife : 
and  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  prove  that  it 
is  his  interest  too :  for  what  case  is  there,  in 
which  the  path  of  duty  is  not  the  path  of 
safety  "! 

But  to  our  subject.    It  is  this. 

We  should  endeavour  to  please  the 
Lord,  by  being  alive  to  his  concerns — 
"  Caring  for  the  things  that  belong  unto  the 
Lord."  Our  thoughts  will  divide  themselves 
into  four  parts. 

I.  We  shall  observe,  That  there  are 
things  which  peculiarly  belong  unto  the 
Lord. 

II.  We  shall  show,  How  they  are  to 

ENGAGE  OUR  ATTENTION. 

III.  We  shall  explain,  The  obligation 
we  are  under  to  make  them  the  OBJECTS 

OF  OUR  SOLICITUDE. 

IV.  We  shall  Particularize  what  has 
been  general  in  our  reflections,  and  com- 
mend to  every  man's  conscience  in  the 
sight  of  God,  the  Institution  which  has 
assembled  us  together. 

I.  There  are  things  which  peculiarly 
belong  unto  the  Lord.  I  say  peculiarly, 
for  "  The  shields  of  the  earth  belong  unto  the 
Lord."  "The  silver  and  the  gold  are  his." 
"  All  the  beasts  of  the  forest  are  his,  and  the 
cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills."  "  The  sea  is 
his,  and  He  made  it ;  and  his  hands  prepared 
the  dry  land."  "  The  world  is  his,  and  the 
fulness  thereof."  All  you  behold  in  the  im- 
mense regions  of  nature,  pertains  to  Him  by 
a  right  infinitely  peculiar,  and  which  He 
cannot  transfer  to  another — the  right  of  crea- 
tion. For  He  made  them  all ;  and  upholds 
them,  by  the  word  of  his  power. 

And  this  applies  to  all  your  temporal  pos- 
sessions. You  sometimes  talk  of  your  pro- 
perty;  but  the  very  word  . ought  to  be  dis- 
carded from  the  Christian's  vocabulary.  You 
have  no  such  thing  as  property;  and  you 
ought,  in  the  place  of  it,  to  substitute  the 
term  trust.  The  Lord  is  the  proprietor — you 
are  oidy  the  stewards ;  and  the  summons  is 
at  the  door,  "  Give  account  of  thy  steward-  1 
ship,  for  thou  shalt  be  no  longer  steward." 

But  these  are  not  the  things  to  which  our 
apostle  alludes.  By  "  the  things  which  be- 
long unto  the  Lord,"  he  means  those  which 
relate  to  his  cause ;  and  be  it  recollected,  that 
when  we  speak  of  his  cause,  we  are  employ- 
ing not  what  some  call  a  cant  term,  but  a 
sacred  phraseology. — «  Arise,  O  Lord,"  says 
David,  "and  plead  thine  own  cause."  He 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


265 


has  a  cause;  a  cause  in  the  most  perfect 
sense  his  own,  upon  which  his  eye  and  his 
heart  are  continually,  and  which  I  hope  is 
dearer  to  many  now  in  his  presence,  than 
their  own  blood. 

These  things  therefore  include  the  Scrip- 
tures.— They  are  "the  words  of  Christ;"  a 
revelation  from  Him,  and  of  Him. 

They  include  the  Sabbath. — This  is  ex- 
pressly called,  "  the  Lord's-day ;"  because  es- 
tablished in  honour  of  his  resurrection  from 
the  dead,  when  "  He  entered  into  his  rest, 
He  also  having  ceased  from  his  own  works, 
as  God  did  from  his." 

They  include  the  sanctuary. — This  is  "  the 
habitation  of  his  house,"  "  the  place  of  his 
feet,"  which  he  has  promised  to  make  "  glo- 
rious." 

They  include  the  ordinances  of  religion. — 
Baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper ;  these  were 
instituted  by  Him,  and  designed  to  be  memo- 
rials of  Him. 

They  include  the  dispensation  of  the  word 
by  preaching. — For  "  when  He  ascended  up 
on  high,  He  received  gifts  for  men,  even  for 
the  rebellious  also,  that  the  Lord  God  might 
dwell  among  them ;  and  He  gave  some  apos- 
tles ;  and  some  prophets ;  and  some  evangel- 
ists ;  and  some  pastors  and  teachers ;  for  the 
perfecting  of  the  saints ;  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry;  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of 
Christ:  till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the 
faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of 
God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure 
of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ." 

They  include  the  divers  gifts  and  graces 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. — For,  says  Peter,  "  He 
hath  shed  forth  this  which  ye  now  see  and 
hear."  And  "if any  man,"  says  Paul,  "have 
not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his." 

They  include  "  the  travail  of  his  soul,"  by 
the  sight  of  which  he  is  "  to  be  satisfied,"  and 
which  is  to  be  seen  in  the  calling  of  sinners 
to  "  believe  in  his  name ;  in  having  "  a  people 
for  himself,  to  show  forth  his  praise ;"  in  "  the 
going  forth  of  his  righteousness  as  brightness, 
and  of  his  salvation  as  a  lamp  that  burnetii" 
till  "  the  earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  know- 
ledge of  the  Lord,  and  "  all  shall  know  Him, 
from  the  least  unto  the  greatest." 

These,  then,  are  the  things  which  belong 
unto  the  Lord  ;  and  it  would  be  delightful  to 
enlarge,  as  well  as  to  specify.  But  consider- 
ing what  we  have  yet  before  us,  time  forbids. 
I  therefore  leave  them  to  your  own  medita- 
tion— if  indeed  you  ever  do  meditate — and 
proceed 

IL  To  show  How  these  things  are  to 
engage  your  attention.  You  are  to  regard 
them  even  to  anxiety — you  are  to  care  for 
them.  Yea,  you  are  to  care  for  nothing  else : 
"  Be  careful  for  nothing."  You  may  attend 
to  other  things :  but  all  your  anxiety  is  be- 
spoken, and  must  be  sacred  to  the  Lord's 
2L  23 


concerns  only.  It  is,  however,  to  be  feared, 
that  we  completely  reverse  this  maxim. 

Let  us  enter  into  the  subject;  and  let  us 
indulge  freely,  in  an  inquiry  which  will  be 
found  to  bear,  not  only  on  the  proceedings  of 
this  day,  but  the  whole  course  of  our  Christian 
profession.  How  is  our  anxiety  for  the  things 
of  the  Lord  to  operate  1 

First.  We  are  to  care  for  them  personally 
yet  extensively.  In  a  day  when  so  many  are 
strangely  actuated  to  aid  a  cause  which  they 
cannot  approve,  and  become  the  instruments 
of  divine  grace,  without  being  its  subjects ;  it 
can  never  be  unnecessary  to  observe,  that  we 
must  care  for  the  things  of  the  Lord,  so  as  to 
know  them,  and  love  them,  and  enjoy  them, 
and  live  under  the  influence  of  them,  indi- 
vidually ourselves.  It  will  be  lamentable  if 
our  zeal  glows  at  a  distance,  but  grows  dim- 
mer as  it  approaches  home,  and  goes  out  in  a 
chilling  darkness,  between  God  and  our  own 
soul.  It  will  be  dreadful  for  a  dying  hour  to 
induce  the  adoption  of  the  complaint,  "  They 
made  me  keeper  of  the  vineyards,  but  mine 
own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept."  We  must 
resemble  Joshua,  whose  resolution  embraced 
personal  as  well  as  relative  piety,  and  made 
the  one  go  before  the  other :  "  As  for  me,  and 
my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord."  Indeed 
we  must  exemplify  ,  what  we  recommend,  if 
we  would  not  lose  our  labour,  and  expose  our- 
selves to  reproach.  How  can  the  proud  en- 
force humility,  or  the  covetous  liberality'!  If 
you  extol  and  urge  a  remedy  as  infallible, 
while  death  is  seen  pictured  in  your  own 
countenance,  people  will  think  you  are  only 
trifling  with  them,  or  insulting  them  :  "  You 
do  not,"  will  they  say,  "  believe  one  word  of 
what  you  profess;  if  you  did,  you  would  try 
its  efficacy  on  yourselves,  and  not  languish 
under  a  disease,  for  which  you  pretend  to 
claim  a  specific."  In  other  words,  if  you  talk 
of  divine  things,  and  endeavour  to  bring  peo- 
ple under  the  sound  of  the  gospel,  while  you 
are  close-fisted  and  hard-hearted,  malignant 
and  unforgiving,  proud  and  envious,  vain  in 
your  conversation,  and  inconsistent  in  your 
conduct;  they  will  conceive  that  your  zeal 
regards  only  some  curious  notions,  or  the 
shibboleths  of  a  party ;  and  they  will  attach 
no  importance  to  them,  because  they  see  you 
derive  no  benefit  from  them.  He  cannot 
value  the  soul  of  a  fellow-creature,  who 
despises  his  own ;  nor  can  he  who  is  alienated 
from  the  life  of  God  himself,  earnestly,  or 
even  sincerely,  beseech  others  to  be  recon- 
ciled unto  Him. 

Yet  genuine  religion  is  as  social  as  it  is 
personal ;  and  while  it  teaches  us  to  begin  at 
home,  it  never  allows  us  to  end  there.  It  not 
only  commands,  but  enables  us  to  "  love  our 
neighbour  as  ourselves." — Indeed,  none  but 
a  Cain  will  ever  ask,  "  Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper."    We  must,  therefore,  not  only  be 


266 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


solicitous  to  promote  the  cause  of  God  in  our 
own  souls,  but  endeavour  to  advance  it  in  our 
family  circle,  in  the  neighbourhood  wherein 
we  dwell,  in  the  church  to  which  we  belong, 
in  our  own  country,  in  every  country ;  that 
his  "  way  may  be  known  on  earth,  his  saving 
health  among  all  nations."  He  is  unworthy 
the  name  of  a  Christian,  whose  exertions  are 
restricted  by  any  bounds,  but  those  of  ina- 
bility, or  whose  wishes  are  confined  within 
any  limits,  but  those  of  the  globe. 

Secondly. — We  are  to  care  for  them  im- 
mediately, yet  perseveringly.  "God  com- 
manded me  to  make  haste,"  was  the  language 
of  the  king  of  Egypt  to  Josiah.  In  his  lips  it 
was  a  falsehood  ;  but  there  cannot  be  a  greater 
truth  in  the  mouth  of  every  minister  and  every 
Christian.  God  has  commanded  us  to  make 
haste.  "  The  king's  business  requires  haste" 
— how  much  more  do  the  affairs  of  Him,  who 
is  the  "  King  of  kings,  and  the  Lord  of  lords ; 
the  true  and  only  Potentate"!"  Delay,  hesi- 
tation, reluctance,  are  inconsistent  with  the 
greatness  of  the  Being  we  avowedly  serve. 
Besides,  we  have  no  time  for  procrastination. 
Our  life  is  a  vapour  which  appeareth  for  a 
little  time,  and  then  vanisheth  away.  And  it 
is  as  uncertain  as  it  is  short.  Yet  all  our  op- 
portunities of  usefulness  depend  upon  it ;  and 
many  of  them  may  expire  long  before  it. 
The  tide  offers  to  subserve  our  welfare,  but 
it  will  not  wait  for  our  convenience.  The 
summer  is  short,  but  the  harvest  is  much 
shorter ;  and  every  day,  and  every  week,  in 
harvest,  is  not  equally  propitious  for  action. 
The  golden  grain  is  not  only  precious,  but 
perishable;  and  while  the  idler  sleeps,  the 
treasure  is  destroyed.  How  many  seasons 
and  occasions  of  doing  good  can  we  all  re- 
view, of  which  nothing  now  remains,  but  the 
sin  and  regret  of  neglect !  What  work  are 
we  yet  often  making  for  bitter  repentance  ! 
Surely,  conscience  cannot  be  always  easy. 
Surely,  there  are  moments  when  we  must 
exclaim,  "  We  are  verily  guilty  concerning 
our  brother."  How  many  have  perished,  and 
how  many  are  perishing  for  ever,  through 
our  indifference ! — 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  commence,  we 
must  continue.  The  command  is,  "Be  not 
weary  in  well  doing,  for  in  due  time  we 
shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not."  Here  we  have 
need  of  patience.  The  excitements  of  no- 
velty soon  wear  off.  The  prayers  offered  in 
faith  are  not  always  immediately  answered. 
The  schemes  of  wisdom  and  benevolence  do 
not  always  instantly  take  effect.  The  seed 
sown  does  not  spring  up  the  same  day,  or 
the  same  week:  and  when  it  appears,  there 
is  "  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  and  after 
that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear."  "  It  is  good," 
says  the  apostle,  "  to  be  always  zealously  af- 
fected in  a  good  thing;  and  not  only  when  I 
am  present  with  you."  Zeal,  in  order  to  be 
durable,  must  be  founded  in  principle,  and  not 


dependent  on  emotions  excited  by  circum- 
stances ;  it  must  not  rely  on  the  eloquence 
of  a  sermon,  or  the  sympathy  of  a  public 
meeting :  it  must  have  a  spring  head,  or  like 
the  summer  brook,  it  will  sometimes  flow, 
and  sometimes  fail. 

We  read  of  some  who  "  did  run  well,  but 
were  hindered,"  "  they  began  in  the  Spirit, 
but  ended  in  the  flesh."  And  we  are  inform- 
ed of  some,  who  obtain  the  commendation, 
"  Thou  hast  laboured,  and  hast  not  fainted. 
I  know  thy  works,  and  the  last  to  be  more 
than  the  first."  I  need  not  say  to  which  of 
these  it  becomes  you  to  be  conformed. — You 
must  say  "  I  love  my  master.  I  will  not  go 
free."  Your  ears  must  be  bored.  You  must 
be  nailed  to  the  door  of  your  Lord's  dwelling ; 
and  be  his  servant  for  ever.  "  Be  thou  faith- 
ful unto  death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown 
of  life." 

Thirdly. — We  are  to  care  for  them  openly 
yet  simply.  It  has  often  been  objected  to 
those  who  are  trying  to  carry  on  the  work 
of  Christ,  like  you,  my  brethren,  that  they 
make  so  much  noise  and  show.  I  trust  you 
will  never  make  more  noise  and  show  than 
are  unavoidable.  But  unavoidable  in  a  mea- 
sure they  are.  The  wind  cannot  blow  with- 
out your  hearing  the  sound  thereof.  The 
sun  cannot  illuminate,  and  warm,  and  ferti- 
lize, and  bless,  without  shining,  nor  can  it 
shine  without  being  seen.  But  effects  are 
not  always  motives.  Little  comparatively 
can  be  done  in  any  matter  of  enterprise,  by 
detached  efforts :  there  must  be  combination, 
and  combination  cannot  act  with  the  privacy 
of  individuality.  The  mountain  is  made  up 
of  sands;  but  though  a  sand  can  be  hid,  a 
mountain  cannot.  A  single  soldier  may  con- 
ceal himself  but  an  army  cannot  muster,  and 
march,  and  contend,  and  conquer,  without 
display.  And  publicity  is  desirable,  as  well 
as  unavoidable:  it  awakens  attention;  it 
genders  sympathy  ;  it  reproaches  sloth  ;  it 
weakens  fear  and  shame ;  it  kindles  emula- 
tion. 

Yet  it  must  be  confessed,  that  there  is  no 
little  danger  here,  as  to  the  agents  them- 
selves :  and  it  is  much  more  necessary  to  ex- 
amine our  principles,  and  watch  over  our 
motives,  when  we  are  called  to  act  on  the 
theatre  of  observation,  than  when  we  are 
discharging  in  private,  duties  which  none,  or 
few  can  witness,  but  God  only.  Jehu  was 
apparently  very  zealous,  but  ostentation  spoil- 
ed all — "  Come  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord  of 
hosts."  But  it  was  only  selfishness  in  a  re- 
ligious mantle.  If  he  did  the  Lord's  work, 
it  was  not  for  the  Lord's  sake.  He  saw  that 
his  obedience  to  a  divine  intimation,  was  the 
road  to  preferment,  and  a  ladder  to  the  throne. 
While  therefore  your  zeal  is  public,  let  it  be 
also  pure:  no  longer  than  your  eye  is  single, 
will  your  whole  body  be  full  of  light.  Never 
think  of  a  name,  as  a  founder,  or  a  leader,  an 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


267 


a^ent,  or  a  contributor.  Let  no  carnal  aims 
ever  degrade  and  pollute  your  religious  exer- 
tions :  but  "  live  in  the  spirit,  and  walk  in  the 
spirit."  "Let  your  light  so  shine  before 
men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works," 
yet  not  to  "  glorify"  you,  but  your  "  Father 
which  is  in  heaven !"  ' 

We  must  care  for  them  boldly  yet  wisely. 
In  some  conditions  courage  would  not  be  ne- 
cessary ;  but  it  is  otherwise  where  immensely 
the  majority  are  averse  to  our  object,  and 
striving  to  support  a  contrary  interest.  "  Who 
will  rise  up  for  me  against  the  evil  doers; 
who  will  stand  up  for  me  against  the  work- 
ers of  iniquity  V  is  an  address,  that  supposes 
opposition,  and  even  invites  to  contention. 
Here  the  man  is  prepared  for  nothing,  who 
cannot  rise  above  the  influence  of  fear  and 
shame :  and  say — 

"  Careless  myself  a  dying  man, 
Of  dying  men's  esteem : 
Happy,  O  God,  if  Thou  approve, 
Though  all  beside  condemn." 

Some  will  suspect  your  motives ;  and  some 
will  censure  them;  some  will  sneer;  and 
some  will  curse.  You  may  be  opposed  by 
those  above  you,  and  whose  example  will 
have  the  force  of  authority ;  and  you  may  be 
opposed  by  those  who  are  dear  to  you,  and 
whose  example  will  have  the  force  of  affec- 
tion: and  the  persecution  of  entreaties  and 
tears,  is  to  an  ingenuous  mind,  the  greatest 
of  all  trials.  You  must  therefore  feel  every 
moment  the  conviction,  "  We  ought  to  obey 
God  rather  than  man."  You  must  cherish 
the  spirit  of  a  martyr,  though  not  called  to  his 
sufferings.  You  must  be  willing  to  "  go  forth 
to  Him  without  the  camp,  bearing  his  re- 
proach ;"  and  be  determined  to  "  follow  Him 
whithersoever  He  goeth !"  And  if  your  faith 
is  considered  as  fancy,  your  hope  delusion, 
your  meekness  meanness,  your  ardour  folly 
or  madness ;  you  must  take  the  scandal,  and 
bindino-  it  as  an  ornament  around  your  brow, 
exclaim,  "  If  this  is  to  be  vile,  I  will  yet  be 
more  vile  :"  and  "  Christ  shall  be  magnified 
in  my  body,  whether  it  be  by  life  or  by  death." 

But  boldness  may  be  accompanied  by  igno- 
rance and  rashness.  You  will,  therefore, 
allow  me  to  say,  let  your  firmness  and  earn- 
estness be  blended  with  discretion.  This  is 
not  to  check,  or  chill  your  zeal,  but  to  refine 
it,  and  guide  it,  and  keep  it  from  expending 
itself  uselessly  or  injuriously.  The  religion 
of  Jesus  does  not  sanctify  all  the  means  that 
may  be  employed  for  its  promotion ;  nor 
must  we  do  evil  that  good  may  come.  We 
are  to  give,  but  it  must  be  our  own :  he  ab- 
hors robbery  for  a  burnt  offering.  We  are 
to  compel  people  to  come  in ;  but  it  must  be 
by  instruction,  entreaty,  and  persuasion :  all 
force  is  persecution.  We  are  to  contend 
earnestly  for  the  faith;  but  we  must  strive 
carefully ;  the  very  nature  of  the  cause  re- 
jects a  pen  dipped  in  gall,  or  a  tongue  set  on 


fire  of  hell :  "  The  wrath  of  man  worketh 
not  the  righteousness  of  God."  "No  one 
was  ever  yet,"  says  Cowper,  "  scolded  out  of 
his  sins,  or  into  his  duty."  We  are  to  hold 
forth  the  word  of  life,  but  we  are  not  to  leave 
our  callings  in  which  we  are  called  of  God, 
but  to  "  abide  with  God"  in  them. 

There  are  some,  whose  zeal,  like  a  fever, 
burns  up  the  brain,  instead  of  generally 
warming  the  constitution,  like  the  heat  of 
health.  We  must  study  men  and  things: 
we  must  observe  times,  and  circumstances. 
We  must  please  our  neighbour  for  his  good  to 
edification.  "  He  that  winneth  souls  is  wise." 
There  are  preachers  and  professors,  who 
despise  and  disdain  every  thing  like  concilia- 
tion and  accommodation,  as  if  it  argued  a 
want  of  fortitude  and  fidelity — or  was  a  base 
and  unworthy  tampering  with  the  enemy,  to 
betray  the  cause.  But  who  was  it  that  said, 
"Walk  in  wisdom  toward  them  that  are 
without."  And  did  not  his  practice  exem- 
plify and  enforce  this  doctrine  !  "  Even  so  I 
please  all  men,  not  seeking  my  own  profit, 
but  the  profit  of  many,  that  they  may  be 
saved."  "  For  though  I  be  free  from  all,  yet 
have  I  made  myself  servant  unto  all,  that  I 
might  gain  the  more.  To  the  weak  became 
I  as  weak,  that  I  might  gain  the  weak :  I  am 
made  all  things  to  all  men,  that  1  might  by 
all  means  save  some." 

We  have  a  greater  than  Paul ;  and  his  ex- 
ample ought  to  have  the  force  of  a  law.  The 
whole  of  our  Saviour's  conversation  and  con- 
duct was  a  fulfilment  of  the  prediction,  "  Be- 
hold, my  servant  shall  deal  prudently."  When 
He  commissioned  the  twelve  apostles,  He 
said,  "Be  ye  wise  as  serpents,  as  well  as 
harmless  as  doves" — and  we  cannot  have  too 
much  of  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent,  if  we 
have  none  of  his  venom.  And  when  He  sent 
forth  the  seventy  disciples,  almost  all  his  ad- 
monitions were  of  a  prudential  kind;  and 
some  of  them  such,  as  many  a  young  divine 
would  think  it  beneath  him  to  regard,  were 
they  to  constitute  (and  they  ought  to  consti- 
tute) a  part  of  a  tutor's  charge.  But  our 
Lord  knew  that  things  trifling  in  themselves 
became  very  important  by  their  connexions, 
indications,  and  effects.  He  knew,  that  with- 
out prudence,  a  man  can  give  no  pledge  of 
proper  behaviour,  in  any  of  those  trying 
situations  which  are  perpetually  occurring ; 
yea,  that  his  very  excellencies  may  injure 
his  character,  and  his  very  talents  frustrate 
his  usefulness. 

Finally ;  we  must  care  for  them  humbly, 
and  yet  practically.  "  Except  the  Lord  build 
the  house,  they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it ; 
except  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain."  The  wisest  plans,  the 
most  strenuous  efforts,  the  most  powerful 
means,  will  be  unavailing  without  his  bless- 
ing. If  you  had  Paul  and  Apollos  to  employ 
in  your  mission ;  Paul  would  plant,  and  Apol- 


•268  ANXIETY 

los  would  water,  in  vain,  unless  the  Lord 
gave  the  increase.  To  this  conviction,  the 
glory  of  God  requires  Him  to  bring  us :  and 
the  sooner  we  feel  it  the  better,  for  when  we 
are  weak  then  are  we  strong.  At  every  step, 
therefore,  remember  the  declaration,  "Not 
by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  spirit, 
saith  the  Lord."  Labour  upon  your  knees. 
Let  your  care  for  the  things  of  the  Lord  ope- 
rate constantly  in  a  way  of  prayer ;  and  what- 
ever be  your  advantages  and  instruments, 
breathe  over  them  the  dependence  of  David, 
"  O  Lord,  I  beseech  Thee,  send  now  pros- 
perity." 

It  has  been  said,  that  exertion  without 
prayer  is  impiety ;  but  it  is  no  less  true,  that 
prayer  without  exertion  is  hypocrisy.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  sufficient  to  pray — the  sincerity 
of  your  prayers  must  be  evinced  by  your  ac- 
tions: for  of  this  we  may  be  assured,  that 
whatever  a  man  really  desires,  and  in  pro- 
portion as  he  desires  it,  he  will  seek  after, 
and  use  all  the  means  placed  within  his 
power,  to  obtain.  Out  of  their  own  mouths, 
therefore,  many  will  be  condemned — yea, 
they  are  condemned  already. — They  pray  — 
but  they  do  nothing.  They  avail  not  them- 
selves of  the  opportunities  which  the  provi- 
dence of  God  presents;  they  call  not  into  ac- 
tion the  resources  under  their  control ;  they 
never  deny  themselves,  never  retrench,  in 
order  to  increase  their  capacity  for  useful- 
ness. They  talk  enough  of  the  cause  of  God ; 
but  they  "  flatter  Him  with  their  lips,  and 
lie  unto  Him  with  their  tongues."  "  With 
their  mouth  they  show  much  love,  but  their 
heart  goeth  after  their  covetousness." 

Thus  are  we  to  care  for  the  things  that 
belong  unto  the  Lord :  and  we  hasten 

III.  TO  EXPLAIN  THE  OBLIGATION  WE  ARE 
UNDER,  TO  MAKE  THEM  THE  OBJECTS  OF  OUR 
SOLICITUDE. 

And  first. — Does  not  consistency  require 
it  1  "  He  that  saith  he  abideth  in  Him,  ought 
himself  also  so  to  walk  even  as  He  walked." 
In  these  words  we  are  reminded,  that  our 
practice  should  correspond  with  our  profes- 
sion. It  is  required,  it  is  expected :  it  is  ex- 
pected by  the  world  as  well  as  by  the  church : 
we  cannot  maintain  our  character  without  it ; 
for  we  shall  always  be  judged  of  by  our  pre- 
tensions. 

Now  see  how  this  applies  in  the  case  be- 
fore us. — You  are  the  professors  of  Christ. 
You  profess  to  be  his  servants — but  can  you 
be  good  servants  if  negligent  in  your  mas- 
ter's work.  You  profess  to  be  his  subjects — 
but  can  ye  be  loyal  subjects  if  ye  are  regard- 
less of  your  sovereign's  honour  !  You  pro- 
fess to  be  his  friends — but  can  you  be  faith- 
ful friends,  unless  you  feel  attached  to  your 
friend's  interests,  and  make  his  welfare  your 
own  1 

Secondly. — Does  not  reason  require  itl 
The  things  themselves,  are  the  most  excel- 


DIRECTED. 

lent,  and  valuable,  and  important,  and  essen- 
tial. We  are  careful  about  many  objects, 
which  are  wholly  unworthy  of  the  ardour  we 
expend  upon  them :  but  here  our  solicitude 
can  never  become  excessive — can  never 
reach  the  subject.  In  deciding  this,  I  refer 
you  to  a  dying  hour. 

"  Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot 
die." — The  delusions  of  time  drop  off  at  the 
approach  of  eternity  ;  and  things  begin  to  ap- 
pear what  they  really  are.  In  that  solemn 
period,  you  will  wonder  by  what  process  of 
deception,  certain  objects  could  acquire  their 
influence  over  you ;  and  you  will  be  ashamed 
of  the  exertions  and  sacrifices  you  made  to 
obtain  them.  You  will  equally  wonder,  how 
other  things  could  have  been  neglected  or 
forgotten :  for  they  are  then,  deemed  all  in 
all.  Life  in  the  review  is  seen  a  dull  level, 
or  a  dread  darkness :  nothing  rises  up,  nothing 
shines  with  glory,  but  what  we  have  done  in 
working  the  work  of  God.  All  is  acknow- 
ledged lost  labour,  but  the  care  of  the  soul. 
All  is  felt  to  be  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit, 
but  the  earnests  of  the  Spirit. 

How  different  are  the  views  and  feelings 
of  angels  and  men.  We  are  struck  with  the 
merchant,  the  philosopher,  the  prince,  the 
hero:  they  gaze  with  pleasure  on  the  mis- 
sionary ;  on  the  Sunday-school  teacher,  that  is 
seeking  to  save  the  children  of  the  needy ; 
on  the  brokenhearted  penitent,  crying,  "  God 
be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  We  are  at- 
tracted by  the  wonders  of  nature,  and  the  pro- 
ductions of  art:  they  desire  to  "look  into  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  and  the  glory  that  should 
follow."  We  exult  in  a  victory:  they  "re- 
joice over  one  sinner  that  repenteth."  We 
celebrate  the  birth  of  a  Wellington,  and  they 
the  birth  of  a  Whitefield — for  they  "  look  not 
at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things 
which  are  not  seen :  for  the  things  which  are 
seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  are 
not  seen  are  eternal." 

What  am  I  saying !  God  himself  cares  for 
these  things.  In  his  judgment  they  are  of 
the  highest  moment.  For  what  purpose  did 
He  make  this  earth,  and  for  what  purpose 
does  He  continue  it  ?  To  be  a  field  of  slaugh- 
ter for  heroes'!  A  counting-house  for  mer- 
chants 1  A  laboratory  for  chemits  1  An  ob- 
servatory for  astronomers  1  No — but  to  be  a 
theatre,  in  which  to  display  redeeming  grace ; 
a  temple,  in  which  to  proclaim  the  glad  ti- 
dings of  salvation;  a  school,  in  which  to  train 
up  the  heirs  of  life,  for  glory,  honour,  and 
immortality.  In  these  things  He  delights. 
These  are  his  glory.  To  these  He  makes 
every  thing  else  subordinate  and  subservient. 
To  these  every  thing  else  must  bend,  or  He 
will  trample  it  under  foot:  "The  nation  and 
kingdom  that  will  not  serve  Thee  shall  pe- 
rish." These  shall  see  the  "  sun  turned  into 
darkness,  and  the  moon  into  blood,"  survive 
the  wreck  of  the  universe ;  and  flourish  for 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


269 


ever  in  the  "  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth, 
wherein  dwellcth  righteousness." 

Thirdly. — Does  not  self-interest  require  it? 
If  concerned  for  your  own  welfare,  you  will 
surely  feel  the  wisdom  of  pleasing'  Him,  in 
whose  favour  is  life:  who  has  the  control 
of  all  hearts,  and  the  direction  of  all  events  ; 
whose  are  the  deceived  and  the  deceiver,  the 
showers  and  floods,  the  winds  and  seasons : 
who  can  withhold,  or  curse  your  blessings ; 
and  on  whom  entirely  depend  the  success  of 
your  business,  the  safety  of  your  family,  the 
health  of  your  body,  and  the  prosperity  of 
your  soul.  But  "  with  such  sacrifices  God  is 
well  pleased."  And  what  a  monarch  is  re- 
ported to  have  once  said  to  a  prime  minister, 
He  says  to  each  of  you,  "  Mind  my  affairs, 
and  I  will  mind  yours." — "  He  that  watereth 
shall  be  watered  also :"  "  He  that  soweth 
plentifully  shall  reap  plentifully."  You  have 
read  the  announcement  of  Heaven,  "Them 
that  honour  me  I  will  honour,  but  they  that 
despise  me  shall  be  lightly  esteemed."  You 
have  heard  the  threatening,  "  Curse  ye  Me- 
roz,  said  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  curse  ye  bit- 
terly the  inhabitants  thereof ;  because  they 
came  not  to  the  help  of  the  Lord,  to  the  help 
of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty."  Now  turn 
to  the  promise,  "  They  shall  prosper  that  love 
thee."  After  the  death  of  Uzziah  no  one 
seemed  willing  to  admit  the  ark.  Some 
were  afraid.  Others  were  actuated  by  self- 
ishness. They  weighed  the  expense,  and 
the  trouble.  "  We  shall  always  be  exposed 
and  incommoded ;  all  •  the  people  will  be 
coming  here  from  curiosity,  to  see,  or  from 
piety  to  inquire."— "Well,"  says  Obededom, 
"  let  it  turn  in  to  me — I  shall  deem  it  an  ho- 
nour and  a  privilege."  And  a  privilege  it 
proved ;  the  report  soon  reached  even  the  foot 
of  the  throne ;  and  had  its  influence  there. 
"  And  it  was  told  king  David,  saying,  the 
Lord  hath  blessed  the  house  of  Obededom, 
and  all  that  pertaineth  unto  him,  because  of 
the  ark  of  God.  So  David  went  and  brought 
up  the  ark  of  God,  from  the  house  of  Obed- 
edom, into  the  city  of  David  with  gladness." 

Now  turn  for  contrast,  to  those  selfish 
wretches,  who  had  come  back  from  Babylon 
to  Jerusalem.  They  pretended  that  the  time 
was  not  come  for  the  house  of  the  Lord  to  be 
built :  yet  while  the  Lord's  house  was  lying 
in  ruins,  they  had  reared  and  were  occupying 
ceiled  houses  of  their  own.  And  what  did 
they  gain  by  "all  seeking  their  own,  not  the 
things  which  are  Jesus  Christ's"!"  "Ye 
looked  for  much,  and  lo  it  came  to  little;  and 
when  ye  brought  it  home,  I  did  blow  upon  it. 
Why,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Because  of 
mine  house  that  is  waste,  and  ye  run  every 
man  unto  his  own  house.  Therefore  the 
heaven  over  you  is  stayed  from  dew,  and 
the  earth  is  stayed  from  her  fruit.  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  of  hosts,  consider  your  ways.  Go 
up  to  the  mountain,  and  bring  wood,  and 
23* 


build  the  house :  and  I  will  take  pleasure  in 
it,  and  I  will  be  glorified  saith  the  Lord. 
Consider  now  from  this  day  and  upward,  from 
the  four  and  twentieth  day  of  the  ninth 
month,  even  from  the  day  that  the  foundation 
of  the  Lord's  temple  was  laid,  consider  it.  Is 
the  seed  yet  in  the  barn  1  yea,  as  yet  the  vine, 
and  the  fig-tree,  and  the  pomegranate,  and 
the  olive-tree,  hath  not  brought  forth  :  from 
this  day  will  I  bless  you." 

Lastly. — Gratitude  requires  it.  Fear  does 
something  in  a  Christian ;  hope  does  more  ; 
but  love  does  most  of  all :  and  love  seeketh 
not  her  own.  When  Achilles  was  asked, 
what  were  the  most  pleasing  services  in 
which  he  ever  engaged,  he  replied,  "  What 
I  do  for  my  friends."  "  Nothing,"  says  Au- 
gustine, "  is  irksome  or  difficult  to  love." 
Love  is  strong  as  death.  Many  waters  can- 
not quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods  drown 
it.  If  a  man  would  give  all  the  substance  of 
his  house  for  love,  it  would  be  utterly  con- 
temned. But  there  is  no  love  like  that 
which  a  redeemed  sinner  bears  to  his  Re- 
deemer: and  there  ought  to  be  no  love  like  it. 
He,  whom  you  are  required  to  serve  has  al- 
ways been  serving  you.  His  mercies  have 
been  new  every  morning,  and  every  moment. 
He  has  never  been  weary  in  doing  you  good, 
notwithstanding  all  your  unworthiness,  and 
perverseness.  He  for  whose  things  you  are 
required  to  care,  has  incessantly  cared  for 
you.  He  has  cared  for  your  condition,  cared 
for  your  family,  cared  for  your  bodies,  cared 
for  your  souls.  He  remembers  you  now  He 
is  in  his  kingdom ;  and  is  making  all  things  to 
work  together  for  your  good.  What  has  He 
not  insured  to  you  by  promise  1  What  has 
He  not  done  for  you  already  ?  He  met  you 
when  going  astray,  and  turned  your  feet  into 
the  path  of  peace.  He  opened  your  blind 
eyes.  He  relieved  your  burdened  consciences. 
He  delivered  you  from  the  bondage  of  cor- 
ruption, and  brought  you  into  the  glorious 
liberty  of  the  sons  of  God. 

And  how  did  He,  all  this  ?  You  sometimes 
talk  of  your  benevolence ;  but  how  little  of  it 
will  bear  examination'!  How  much  of  it  is 
merely  casual  1  How  much  of  it  is  selfish, 
originating  in  some  reference,  to  your  repu- 
tation or  advantage?  How  little  of  it  has 
been  attended  with  any  thing  like  self-denial, 
or  sacrifice  ?  Perhaps,  you  have  never  lost  a 
night's  rest,  or  walked  six  miles  in  a  warm 
day,  to  help  a  fellow-creature  in  your  lives. 
And  yet  "because  you  have  now  and  then 
given  a  trifle  of  what  you  could  not  expend 
upon  yourselves,  you  are  forsooth  generous. 
You  look  after  returns  of  gratitude,  and  if  you 
meet  with  no  suitable  acknowledgment,  you 
are  filled  with  resentment,  and  discontinue 
your  kindness.  O  call,  this  morning — call  to 
remembrance  Him,  who  when  He  was  rich, 
for  our  sakes  became  poor ;  who  laid  aside 
the  sovereign,  and  took  upon  Him  the  form 


270 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


of  a  servant;  who  for  three  and  thirty  years 
"  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with 
grief ;  and  died  that  we  may  live."  View  Him 
in  the  manger,  view  Him  in  the  garden, 
view  Him  on  the  cross — 

"See  from  his  bead,  his  hands,  his  feet, 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down ; 
Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown." 

— And  surely  every  feeling  of  the  heart  must 
constrain  you  to  exclaim — 

"  To  Thee,  to  Thee,  Almighty  Love, 
Our  souls,  ourselves,  our  all,  we  pay  ; 
Millions  of  tongues  shall  sound  thy  praise, 
On  the  bright  hills  of  heavenly  day." 

We  have  now  in  the 

IVth  place,  To  particularize  what  has 
been  general  in  our  reflections,  and  to 
commend  to  every  man's  conscience  in  the 
sight  of  God,  the  Institution  which  has 

ASSEMBLED  US  TOGETHER.     It  is  the  HOME 

Missionary  Society.  And  here  I  cannot 
but  remark,  that  the  very  title  is  auspicious, 
and  auspicious  not  only  in  its  reference,  as 
we  shall  presently  evince,  but  even  in  its 
implication.  For  the  word  Home  Mission, 
naturally  leads  us  to  think  of  a  Foreign  :  and 
a  Society  for  sending  the  gospel  abroad,  has 
been  now  established  for  many  years:  and 
none  can  rejoice  in  its  operations  and  success, 
more  than  ourselves.* 

But  we  request  a  patient  and  candid  hear- 
ing, while  we  mildly,  but  firmly  contend,  that 
as  the  Foreign  Missionary  Society  does  not 
supersede  the  Home  Missionary  Society;  so 
the  latter  does  not  interfere  with  the  former. 
The  one,  therefore,  should  not  awaken  the 
jealousy,  or  occasion  the  distance  of  the 
other.  We  go  further,  and  are  not  afraid  to 
affirm,  that  the  one  is  entitled  to  the  respect 
and  co-operation  of  the  other.  It  has  a  three- 
fold claim.  First,  The  claim  of  a  sister. 
The  one  is  of  the  same  family  with  the  other ; 
and  engaged  in  the  same  glorious  cause  of 
doing  good,  though  not  in  the  same  depart- 
ment. Secondly,  The  claim  of  a  child.  It 
would  be  very  easy  to  prove  that  the  one 
grew  out  of  the  other.  And  the  effect  was 
natural  and  unavoidable.  Such  a  number  of 
preachers  and  people  could  not  be  called  to- 
gether, and  urged  to  think  of  the  danger  of 
those  who  were  perishing  for  lack  of  know- 
ledge abroad,  without  being  led  to  reflect 
also,  upon  the  condition  of  those,  in  the  same 
state,  as  to  effect,  nearer  home.  They  could 
not  but  say,  "  We  must  feel,  and  act  consist- 
ently :  and  not  expose  ourselves  to  the  re- 
flection, Physician,  heal  thyself:  what  we 
have  heard  done  in  Capernaum,  do  also  in  thy 

*  There  are  several  societies  now,  for  sending  the 
gospel  to  the  heathen :  there  is  one  in  almost  every  de- 
nomination. But  the  preacher  adverts  only  to  the 
London  Missionary  Society  ;  not  from  illiberality,  but 
because  the  persons  he  addressed  were  principally  con- 
nected with  it.  Yet,  what  is  advanced,  will  apply 
to  the  friends  of  every  other  Foreign  Missionary  So- 
ciety, and  tend  to  conciliate  them  to  home-efforts. 


own  country."  Hence  from  those  annual 
convocations,  ministers  returned  determined 
to  explore  the  villages  around  them.  Hence 
new  county  associations  were  formed,  and  the 
old  ones  acquired  an  ardour  unknown  before ; 
and  instead  of  these  half-yearly  meetings 
being  made  days  of  smoking  and  preaching, 
they  were  converted  into  days  of  public  ex- 
citement and  private  inquiry,  in  order  to 
evangelize  the  respective  districts.  Hence 
sprang  The  Tract  Society.  Hence  The 
Bible  Society,  which  from  the  beginning  was 
called  "  British,"  as  well  as  "  Foreign." 
Hence  arose  The  Hibernian  Society:  The 
Irish  Evangelical  Institution — and  to  mention 
no  more,  last  of  all,  The  Home  Missionary 
Society  also.  Thirdly,  the  claim  of  a  friend. 
For  not  only  is  this  society  related  to  the 
other,  and  descended  from  it,  but  is  designed 
and  adapted  to  aid  it  too.  Every  convert 
made  by  its  efforts,  will  become  a  lover  of  The 
Missionary  Society — and  will  pray  for  it — 
and,  if  able,  contribute  to  its  support.  Every 
new  interest  raised  by  its  efforts,  will  be  ac- 
cording to  its  extent,  a  magazine  of  resources. 
Every  preacher  produced  by  its  efforts,  will 
become  an  official  advocate,  and  be  empower- 
ed to  render  it,  by  his  sermons  as  well  as  his 
life,  important  service.  And  is  even  this  an 
impossible,  or  an  improbable  result  1  It  is 
not  delicate  for  a  speaker  to  refer  to  himself 
— otherwise,  it  might  be  observed,  that  your 
preacher  this  morning,  was  the  fruit  of  vil- 
lage preaching,  and  preaching  of  a  very  hum- 
ble kind  too.  Three  others  also,  by  the  same 
means,  were  called  to  labour  in  the  word  and 
doctrine,  out  of  the  same  obscure  vicinity. 
Yea,  not  a  few  of  the  most  acceptable  and 
useful  ministers  of  the  day,  have  been  called 
forth  by  the  very  kind  of  exertion  which  your 
society  patronizes,  employs,  and  excites :  and 
these  have  been,  and  will  be,  the  instruments 
of  recommending  the  Missionary  Society,  and 
of  collecting  no  inconsiderable  sums  for  its 
use. 

But  your  Institution,  my  brethren,  is  to  be 
viewed  under  other  aspects. 

It  is  enforced  by  patriotism.  "  As  we  have 
opportunity,  let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  es- 
pecially unto  them  that  are  of  the  household 
of  faith."  It  cannot  be  pleaded,  that  the  ob- 
jects contemplated  by  your  Society,  are  at 
present,  of  the  household  of  faith :  but  the 
apostle's  language  sufficiently  shows  us,  that 
there  is  no  incompatibility  between  public 
and  universal  benevolence,  and  private  and 
particular  regards.  Indeed  the  one  is  the 
safest,  and  the  nearest  road  to  the  other.  The 
best,  the  only  way  in  which  we  can  promote 
the  welfare  of  the  whole,  is  by  benefiting  the 
parts ;  for  the  aggregate  is  made  up  of  indi- 
viduals. Paul  therefore  would  not  blame  us 
for  feeling  peculiarly,  when  an  Institution 
invites  us  to  go  and  bless,  not  our  fellow- 
creatures  only,  but  our  fellow-subjects ;  not 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


271 


strangers  only,  but  neighbours.  Yea,  he  him 
self  felt  in  like  manner — "Brethren,  my 
heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for  Israel,  is, 
that  they  might  be  saved.  I  have  great  hea- 
viness and  continual  sorrow  in  my  heart :  for 
I  couid  wish  that  myself  were  accursed  from 
Christ,  for  my  kinsmen,  my  brethren  accord- 
ing to  the  flesh."  I  have  nothing  to  do  at 
present  with  the  difficulty  of  this  passage :  I 
advert  only  to  its  patriotism;  and  this  re- 
mains  the  same  upon  every  principle  of  inter- 
pretation. 

Abhorred  indeed,  be  the  patriotism,  that 
would  lead  us  to  justify  any  thing  evil,  be- 
cause done  in  our  own  country ;  or  render  us 
blind  to  the  excellencies  of  any  other  nation ; 
or  make  us  envious  of  their  improvements 
and  advantages;  or  induce  us  to  consider  any 
of  the  human  race  our  natural  enemies,  be- 
cause they  live  on  the  other  side  of  a  moun- 
tain, or  a  sea — but  it  is  in  the  order  of  moral- 
ity, and  in  the  very  principles  of  our  nature, 
to  feel  attachments  arising  from  the  places  of 
our  birth;  from  the  impressions  of  our  in- 
fancy and  youth ;  from  the  memory  of  a  thou- 
sand pleasing  associations ;  from  the  presence, 
the  attentions,  the  claims,  of  all  the  near  and 
touching  connexions  of  life. 

And  surely,  never  was  there  a  country  so 
worthy  of  our  regard,  as  this  highly  favoured 
isle  in  which  we  dwell.  We  have  indeed 
much  to  lament,  and  much  to  censure :  but 
"  it  is  a  good  land  which  the  Lord  our  God 
giveth  us." 

"  England,  with  all  thy  faults, 
I  love  thee  still." — 

But  what  is  the  best  evidence  we  can  give 
of  our  love  to  it?  "He  is  worthy,"  said  the 
Jews  to  our  Lord,  when  speaking  in  favour 
of  the  centurion,  "He  is  worthy  for  whom 
Thou  shouldst  do  this,  for  he  loveth  our  na- 
tion, and  hath  built  us  a  synagogue."  "  Right- 
eousness," says  Solomon,  "  exalteth  a  nation  ; 
but  sin  is  the  reproach  of  any  people."  He 
is  therefore  the  best  friend  to  his  country, 
who  promotes  most  its  moral  and  religious 
improvement.  To  such  endeavours  it  is  al- 
ways entitled,  but  the  present  period  has  pe- 
culiar claims  upon  our  patriotism.  It  must 
be  confessed,  that  there  is  much  infidelity 
and  profligacy  abounding :  it  is  not  to  be  de- 
nied or  concealed,  that  there  is  prevailing 
much  licentiousness  of  political  opinion,  much 
disaffection  to  government,  much  readiness, 
if  not  ripeness,  for  sedition  and  rebellion, 
among  the  lower  classes.  Is  it  not  then  de- 
sirable, and  necessary  to  bring  them  into  fel- 
lowship with  that  gospel,  which  will  teach 
them  to  "deny  ungodliness  and  worldly 
lusts ;"  to  "  fear  God  and  honour  the  king ;" 
"  to  obey  magistrates,  and  to  be  ready  to  every 
good  work]"— The  distress  of  the  country 
also  at  this  season,  is  another  powerful  call 
to  patriotic  exertion.    Many  are  not  aware 


of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor,  unless  in  ge 
neral  rumour,  which  obtains  slight  credit, 
and  produces  little  impression.    But  some  ot 
us,  especially  in  the  discharge  of  such  duties 
as  this  Society  intends,  have  opportunities  to 
observe  their  extent  and  degree.    How  des- 
titute of  comfort,  of  attendance,  of  accommo- 
dation, of  conveniences,  of  needful  supplies, 
are  many  of  the  aged  and  the  sick.  How 
many  infantile  cries  for  relief,  pierce  and  ago- 
nize a  father's,  a  mother's  ear  in  vain  ]  How 
many  are  there,  who  never  touch  a  morsel 
of  meat  of  their  own,  from  one  month  to  an- 
other ;  yea,  whose  homely  board  is  frequently 
spread  with  the  most  common  vegetables,  un- 
accompanied not  only  with  meat,  but  even 
bread  and  salt !  How  many  are  there,  wretch- 
edly apparelled,  as  well  as  starvingly  fed,  and 
who  by  a  sense  of  decency,  stronger  than  their 
feeling  of  piety,  are  ashamed  to  appear  at 
church.  How  many  are  there,  who  when  He 
sendeth  abroad  his  ice  like  morsels,  and  you 
exclaim,  "  who  can  stand  before  his  cold  ?"  en- 
counter the  adversity  in  tattered  garments, 
through  paneless  windows,  and  with  scanty, 
casually  collected,  pilfered  fuel  ?  How  many 
are  heard  begging — for  what? — Labour,  toil, 
drudgery  !  My  God  !  what  a  state  of  society 
is  that  in  which,  what  was  originally  pro- 
nounced as  a  curse — "  In  the  sweat  of  thy 
brow  thou  shalt  eat  bread,  till  thou  return  to 
the  dust :"  is  prized  and  implored  as  a  boon  ; 
and  implored  too  in  vain  !  O  my  countrymen, 
if  your  complaints  reach  not  the  ears  of  the 
great,  they  shall,  by  our  prayers  for  you, 
enter  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  God  of  Sa- 
baoth.    We  sympathize  with  you,  and  will 
do,  whatever  falls  within  our  power  for  your 
temporal  relief :  but  the  more  despair  we  feel 
with  regard  to  your  secular  comfort,  the 
more  will  we  be  mindful  of  your  higher  wel- 
fare ;  the  more  will  we  be  concerned  to  bring 
the  kingdom  of  God  nigh  unto  you ;  the  more 
earnestly  will  we  hasten  to  open  to  you,  in 
your  penury  and  wretchedness,  the  treasures 
of  eternity,  and  the  comforts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost:  and  whatever  be  denied  you,  again 
shall  it  be  said,  "  The  poor  have  the  gospel 
preached  unto  them." 

Facility  is  another  argument  we  bring 
forward  in  favour  of  this  society.  We  are 
far  from  intimating  that  we  are  to  decline  a 
duty  to  which  we  are  called,  because  it  is  at 
tended  with  difficulty  :  but  who  does  not  ac- 
knowledge, that  we  must  be  peculiarly  cul- 
pable, when  in  a  matter  of  importance,  we 
omit  to  do  what  is  easy  in  achievement,  and 
refuse  to  gather  what  depends  within  our 
reach.  If  we  are  under  obligation  to  accom- 
plish all  the  good  in  our  power,  our  rule  of 
action,  if  not  our  motive,  must  often  be  de- 
rived from  the  preferableness  of  means,  the 
favourableness  of  opportunity,  the  prospect 
of  resources,  and  the  probability  of  suc- 
cess. 


272 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


It  wou'.d  be  strange  if  an  army  were  to  go 
forward,  leaving  strong  holds  and  encamp- 
ments behind,  endangering  its  communica- 
tions and  supplies,  in  order  to  begin  at  the 
greatest  distance,  and  fight  their  way  home. 
It'  you  had  to  prepare  a  passage  through  a 
wood,  you  would  hardly  think  of  commenc- 
ing at  the  remotest  side,  so  as  to  reach  the 
spot  of  action,  continually  by  taking  a  large 
circuit,  or  pressing  through  the  bushes  and 
the  brambles :  you  would  be  aware  of  the 
advantage  of  beginning  near,  where  access 
would  be  easy,  and  all  the  progress  made, 
would  be  a  preparation  for  more.  "  Doth  he 
speak  parables  !"  Christians  imbodied  are 
the  Lord's  host.  They  are  also  his  pioneers, 
to  "  make  strait  in  the  desert  a  highway  for 
our  God."  Let  us  turn  from  analogy  to  fact. 
What  was  the  order  our  Saviour  gave  to  the 
twelve  '!  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  preach- 
ing repentance  and  remission  of  sins,  in  my 
name,  among  all  nations,  beginning  at  Jeru- 
salem." Here  we  have  both  a  foreign  and  a 
home  mission :  and  they  are  not  considered 
inconsistent  with  each  other:  but  what  is 
still  more  to  our  purpose — the  one  follows 
the  other ;  and  the  distant  is  not  to  work  to- 
wards the  nearer,  but  the  nearer  is  to  extend 
into  the  distant.  This  order  the  apostles  ob- 
served. They  "testified  both  to  Jews  and 
Greeks,"  but  to  the  Jews  always  "first." 
There  are  many  worthy  projects  on  foot — and 
may  God  succeed  them  !  which  must  require 
much  time  and  vast  expense.  But  your  in- 
struments are  comparatively  cheap.  Your 
object  consumes  not  months  to  approach  it. 
The  fields  white  unto  your  harvest  are  with- 
in a  day's  journey,  or  an  hour's  walk  ;  they 
wave  their  ripeness  just  beyond  your  gar- 
den hedge,  and  are  full  in  view  from  the 
window  of  your  closet,  where  as  you  gaze, 
a  Being  cries,  "  Work  while  it  is  day,  the 
night  cometh  wherein  no  man  can  work." 

Much  may  be  also  urged  on  the  ground  of 
necessity.  Of  this,  many  of  you,  my  London 
friends,  shall  I  say,  are  happily  incompetent 
to  judge.  You  reside  in  a  city  where  you 
are  fed  to  the  full,  and  have  never  been  fa- 
miliar with  those  places  in  which  many  are 
dying  of  spiritual  want.  I  wish  you  could  at- 
tend some  of  our  public  meetings  in  the  coun- 
try. I  wish  you  could  hear  the  reports  of  our 
holy  informers.  I  wish  you  could  witness 
the  applications  for  assistance,  which  we  are 
compelled  to  refuse,  for  want  of  means.  I 
wish  you  could  take  a  few  rides  with  some 
of  our  ministers  into  the  remoter  parts  of  our 
districts,  and  see  the  state  of  our  villages; 
the  neglect  of  public  worship ;  the  profana- 
tion of  the  Sabbath  ;  the  carelessness,  stupi- 
dity, ignorance,  heathenism,  of  the  cottages; 
the  neglect  and  barbarism,  in  which  the  chil- 
dren are  rising  up  to  be  the  bane  and  the 
curse  of  society. 

"  But  is  there,"  it  will  be  said,  "  is  there 


not  provision  made  to  remedy  this  evil?" 
"  Are  there  not  Bibles  in  abundance  1"  There 
are.  But  many  are  unable  to  peruse  them — 
and  must  be  taught  to  read,  or  the  book  is 
sealed.  Many  are  careless  about  the  Scrip- 
ture, because  they  are  not  in  a  state  to  feel 
the  importance  of  its  grand  subject — Jesus 
Christ  and  him  crucified — and  must  be  awak- 
ened and  convinced,  in  order  to  bring  them 
to  the  prophets  and  apostles,  asking,  "  What 
must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?" 

"  But  there  is  the  excellent  liturgy  every 
where  read  1"  It  is  excellent.  But  can  any 
advocate  for  it,  however  partial  he  may  be, 
deny  that  there  are  thousands  to  be  found, 
who  though  continually  hearing  it,  are  not 
only  deplorably  profligate,  but  ignorant  tool 
It  is  not  by  the  constant  repetition  of  even  a 
form  of  sound  words,  but  by  "  the  foolishness 
of  preaching,  that  God  saves  them  that  be- 
lieve." 

"  The  clergy  where  are  they  !"  Had  this 
question  been  asked  in  the  days  of  Isaiah,  the 
reply  would  have  been :  "  His  watchmen  are 
blind,  they  are  all  dumb  dogs,  they  cannot 
bark:  sleeping,  lying  down,  loving  to  slum- 
ber. Yea,  they  are  greedy  dogs,  which  can 
never  have  enough ;  and  they  are  shepherds 
that  cannot  understand :  they  all  look  to  their 
own  way,  every  one  for  his  gain,  from  his 
quarter."  We  are  thankful  that  this  is  not 
generally  our  case.  Yet  too  many  who  are 
paid  by  the  state,  are  careless  of  their  charge : 
while  others,  more  willingly  disposed,  are 
fettered  by  forms,  and  are  obliged  to  restrain 
the  zeal,  which  would  draw  on  them  the  re- 
proach of  innovation. 

"  But  is  not  the  meeting  free'!"  Yes :  and 
we  may  "call  every  man  his  neighbour,  under 
his  vine  and  under  his  fig-tree :  and  none  can 
make  us  afraid."  But  there  are  inward  re- 
straints where  there  are  no  external  preven- 
tions. What  can  be  expected  from  those 
who  have  denied  the  Lord  that  bought  them, 
and  have  renounced  in  Christianity,  all  that 
is  vital  and  animating  1  There  are  not  only 
impediments  arising  from  error,  but  also  from 
indolence,  and  indifference,  and  pride,  even 
where  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  is  profess- 
ed. Some,  1  am  afraid,  even  of  our  own  mi- 
nisters, find  it  more  grateful  to  visit  the  rich, 
than  to  preach  to  the  needy.  Some  think  it 
beneath  them,  or  at  least  not  so  reputable,  to 
preach  in  the  barn,  or  in  the  cottage.  Some 
prefer  the  elegance  of  the  study,  to  the  rude- 
ness of  the  village ;  and  are  polishing  their 
periods,  when  they  shall  be  going  after  that 
which  is  lost,  until  they  find  it. 

"  But  of  late  there  has  been  a  great  in- 
crease of  evangelical  and  zealous  dissenter- 
ism  ;  and  the  establishment  numbers  a  grow- 
ing accession  of  pious  and  devoted  ministers ; 
and  the  methodists  have  also  spread  far  and 
wide."  Admitted.  Yet  could  you  compare 
all  this  varied  system  of  agencies,  with  the 


ANXIETY  DIRECTED. 


273 


widencss  and  work  of  the  field,  you  would 
yet  say,  "  The  harvest  truly  is  great,  and  the 
labourers  are  few.  Pray  ye  therefore  the 
Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  would  send  forth 
labourers  into  the  harvest." 

This  state  of  things,  so  earnestly  demand- 
ing' increased  exertion,  had  for  several  years 
back,  much  impressed  the  minds  of  our  mi- 
nisters, and  associations  in  the  country :  and 
without  the  least  cooling  of  regard  for  foreign 
service,  they  were  anxious  in  their  inquiries 
what  more  could  be  done  at  home.  Some- 
thing had  been  effected  for  this  purpose  in 
the  city  of  my  residence.  The  united  con- 
gregations there,  formed  an  establishment, 
called  "The  Bath  British  and  Foreign  Mis- 
sionary Society  j"  dividing  its  income  into 
three  equal  parts :  one  being  appropriated  to 
the  heathen ;  one  to  Ireland ;  and  one  to  our 
own  neighbourhood.  The  rising  up  of  your 
Society  therefore,  could  not  but  be  deemed 
seasonable,  and  hailed  by  thousands  as  de- 
sirable. 

And  I  need  not  say  that  you  have  met  with 
encouragement.  Your  beginning  indeed  was 
small,  compared  with  the  wishes  and  hopes 
of  its  friends,  but  it  was  not  so  small  as  the 
beginning  of  The  Bible  Society  ,  or  the  be- 
ginning of  Protestantism,  or  of  Christianity 
itself.  And  the  mustard  seed  shall  become  a 
mustard  tree,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  lodge  in 
the  branches  of  it. 

As  yet  you  have  not  many  great  names  in 
your  lists :  but  I  see  one  name  among  you, 
which  of  itself  is  enough  to  confer  dignity, 
and  insure  success — a  name  above  every 
name — the  Lord  of  Life  and  Glory,  who  cries, 
"  So  will  I  save  you,  and  ye  shall  be  a  bless- 
ing; fear  not,  but  let  your  hands  be  strong." 

The  Institution  is  but  a  year  old  ;  and  yet 
it  has  sent  forth,  and  is  supporting,  no  less 
than  ten  missionaries. 

You  are  continually  receiving  expressions 
of  approbation,  and  promises  of  co-operation 
from  ministers,  and  churches,  and  combina- 
tions of  both. 

Your  funds  need  replenishing  and  enlarge- 
ment. But  the  supplies  you  have  received 
have  been  encouraging ;  and  they  are  increas- 
ing. And  I  am  persuaded  you  will  obtain  no 
inconsiderable  assistance,  from  the  collection 
which  is  going  to  be  made  in  favour  of  your 
object,  at  the  doors  of  this  sanctuary.  For 
more  than  thirty-two  years  I  have  been  ac- 


customed to  appeal  to  the  liberality  of  Lon- 
don congregations,  and  I  have  always  had 
reason  to  approve  and  applaud.  And  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  dissent  from  your  own  ex- 
ample this  morning.  I  never  recommended 
an  object  with  more  cordiality.  In  no  case 
could  you  give  with  a  greater  likelihood  of 
usefulness:  and  charity  to  the  soul,  is  the 
soul  of  charity.  The  good  you  may  be  the 
means  of  accomplishing,  you  may  never  be 
informed  of  here:  but  you  will  make  to  your- 
selves friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteous- 
ness: and  when  ye  fail,  they  will  receive  you 
into  everlasting  habitations;  and  you  will 
hear  them  for  ever  adoring  the  God  of  all 
grace,  who  led  you  to  pity  them,  when  no 
man  cared  for  their  souls. 

Complain  not  of  the  number  of  these  ap- 
plications. It  foretells,  it  implies  good.  Would 
you  wish  there  was  no  cause  for  such  calls? 
Would  you  wish  for  the  same  state  of  religious 
dulness  and  death,  which  prevailed  in  this 
country  ninety  years  ago,  and  which  would 
indeed,  effectually  preclude  you  from  all 
these  spiritual  vexations  ?  Have  you  not  for 
years  been  praying  that  his  kingdom  may 
come,  and  that  his  word  may  have  free  course 
and  be  glorified'!  And  are  you  displeased 
with  God  for  hearkening  to  your  petitions'? 
Or  did  you  imagine  He  would  fulfil  your  re- 
quests by  miracles,  instead  of  means?  Or 
did  you  indent  with  Him,  that  He  should 
carry  on  the  cause,  but  that  you  should  be 
excused  from  the  work  ? 

You  say  "  The  times  are  trying,  and  we 
must  economize."  We  have  no  objection  to 
economy — we  wish  many  had  introduced  it 
long  ago — you  cannet  economize  too  much, 
if  you  run  not  into  meanness  and  niggardli- 
ness. But  we  hope  you  will  not  begin,  at 
least,  with  the  part  of  your  substance,  which 
you  have  consecrated  to  beneficence.  I  hope 
you  will  see,  what  can  be  retrenched  in  ser- 
vants, and  table,  and  furniture,  and  dress,  be- 
fore you  think  of  refusing  the  applications  of 
those,  who  come  to  you  in  the  behalf  of  perish- 
ing souls,  and  in  the  name  of  Him  who  loved 
us  and  gave  himself  for  us. 

None  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no 
one  dieth  to  himself,  but  whether  we 
live,  we  live  unto  the  lord,  or  whether 
we  die,  we  die  unto  the  lord  :  whether, 
therefore,  we  live  or  die,  we  are  the 
Lord's. 


2M 


.  FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH  : 


A  DISCOURSE 


SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 


SAMUEL    HALLETT,  Esq. 


WHO  DEPARTED  THIS  LIFE  MAY  22,  1825. 


PREACHED  IN  ARGYLE  CHAPEL,  BATH, 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

From  the  age  and  infirmity  of  the  Deceased,  the  Preacher  frequently  looked  forward  to 
the  Service  which  produced  the  following  Discourse ;  and  he  always  foreboded  it,  as  one  of 
the  most  painful  exercises  in  which  he  could  ever  be  engaged.  But  he  was  not  perplexed 
for  a  moment  in  selecting  a  subject  for  the  occasion.  As  soon  as  he  saw  his  friend  going 
the  way  of  all  the  earth,  his  feelings  led  him  to  the  words  of  Thomas ;  and  he  found  in  the 
discussion,  that  the  sentiment  he  had  adopted  for  a  text,  was  echoed  from  the  bosoms  of  a 
numerous  and  weeping  audience. 

Sometimes,  in  sending  abroad  what  he  had  delivered,  he  can  truly  say — he  has  reluctant- 
ly complied  with  the  desire  of  others  ;  but,  in  this  instance,  he  was  pleased  with  such  an  ap- 
plication,— not  from  a  persuasion  of  the  goodness  of  the  Sermon,  but  from  a  conviction  of 
the  excellency  of  the  character  it  attempted  to  pourtray ;  and  from  a  wish  that  some  likeness 
and  memorial  of  him  might  be  spread  and  perpetuated  among  his  connexions;  and  from  the 
gratification  it  would  afford  the  Preacher,  of  thus  publicly  and  permanently  testifying  how 
much  he  loved  and  esteemed  the  individual  whose  death  called  it  forth. 

Percy  Place,  June  1825. 


"  Let  us  also  go,  that  -we  may  die  with  him." 
John  xi.  19. 

This  is  the  language  of  a  man  who  bore 
two  names — Thomas,  and  Didymus ;  the  one 
Hebrew,  the  other  Greek.  Each  signifies  a 
twin ;  and  probably  he  was  one,  and  some 
peculiar  circumstance  attending  his  birth, 
gave  rise  to  the  denomination. 

It  is  surely  needless,  not  to  say  absurd,  to 
look  after  a  mystery  here ;  and  to  suppose 
that  he  was  so  called,  under  the  direction  of 
Providence,  in  foresight  of  his  having  twins 
— flesh  and  spirit,  faith  and  unbelief— in  his 
heart. 

In  this  way,  however,  a  large  portion  of 
the  Word  of  God  is  disposed  of  by  the  spiri- 
tualizes of  the  Bible,  who,  dissatisfied  with 
the  real  and  obvious  import  of  revelation,  turn 


its  figures  into  facts  and  its  facts  into  figures, 
just  as  it  suits  the  exigency  of  their  creed,  or 
the  weakness  of  their  capacity.  But  they 
are  bad  interpreters  of  the  Scripture,  who 
give  it  meanings  which  it  never  had  ;  and  by 
their  supposed  ingenuity,  render  its  readers 
uncertain  whether  it  has  any  proper  and 
determinate  sense.  At  best  we  can  only 
give  these  men  credit  for  the  goodness  of 
their  intention.  They  may  think  to  improve 
the  Scripture  ;  but  by  their  ennoblings  they 
debase  it,  by  their  enrichings  they  impoverish 
it,  by  their  enlargings  they  contract  it.  They 
may  alter  and  they  may  add,  but  it  would  be 
better  for  them  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
these  finished  paintings,  or  to  present  them 
as  they  are  left  by  the  hand  of  the  matchless 
master. 

The  sovereignty  of  God  appears  in  the 
274 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


275 


much  greater  notice  the  Scripture  takes  of 
some  than  of  others.  Little  is  said  of  Thomas. 
He  was  one  of  the  Lord's  apostles,  and  he  is 
mentioned  in  three  places ;  and  mentioned  as 
the  sacred  writers  always  mention  charac- 
ters: for  they  never  write  as  censurers  or 
eulogists,  but  state  facts,  whether  they  betray 
infirmity  or  excellence ;  and  leave  them  to 
make  their  own  impression  and  to  supply 
their  own  improvements. — When  the  risen 
Saviour  appeared  to  the  eleven,  Thomas  was 
absent,  and  his  absence  occasioned  a  loss  of 
conviction  which  the  testimony  of  his  bre- 
thren could  not  repair  ;  but  the  Saviour  re- 
paired it,  by  his  condescension  in  accommo- 
dating himself  to  his  weakness,  and  inducing 
him  to  exclaim,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God." — 
At  an  earlier  period,  when  our  Saviour  was 
delivering  his  farewell  address  to  his  disciples 
before  he  suffered,  and  when  he  had  said, 
"  Whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye 
know,"  Thomas  saith  unto  him,  "  Lord,  we 
know  not  whither  thou  goest,  and  how  can 
we  know  the  way  V  Here  was  ignorance ; 
but  ignorance  ingenuously  confessed,  and  ac- 
companied with  a  desire  of  information ;  and 
therefore  Jesus  said  unto  him,  "I  am  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life ;  no  man  cometh 
unto  the  Father  but  by  me.  If  ye  had  known 
me,  ye  should  have  known  my  Father  also, 
and  from  henceforth  ye  know  him  and  have 
seen  him." — But  the  first  time  he  is  in- 
troduced, as  a  speaker,  is  in  the  words  of 
the  text.  "  Then,"  said  Thomas,  "  who  is 
called  Didymus,"  unto  his  fellow-disciples, 
"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 

HIM." 

Here  a  difficulty  occurs.  It  is  not  easy  to 
determine  whether  Thomas  alludes  to  our 
Saviour  or  to  Lazarus.  I  confess,  after  re- 
peated reflection,  my  own  mind  is  yet  unfix- 
ed. The  connexion  seems  to  leave  it  un- 
decided :  and  if  we  appeal  to  authority,  we 
find  expositors  of  equal  weight  on  each  side 
of  the  question.  It  is  singular,  that  while 
the  candid  Doddridge  is  so  impressed  with 
the  former  reference  as  not  to  mention  the 
latter ;  the  great  and  judicious  Howe  is  so 
impressed  with  the  latter  as  not  even  to  men- 
tion the  former.  Both  allusions,  therefore, 
must  have  much  probability  in  them,  and  as 
each  is  instructive  and  useful,  let  us  consider 
the  words : — 

I.  In  connexion  with  our  Saviour  :  and 

II.  In  connexion  with  Lazarus. 

The  subject  could  never  be  unsuitable  and 
uninteresting;  but  it  will  be  found  peculiarly 
appropriate  this  morning,  when  we  are  as- 
sembled together  to  pay — not  the  last  token 
of  respect :  No, — but  a  token  of  respect ;  a 
public  token  of  respect ;  a  deserved  token  of 
respect ;  an  edifying  token  of  respect,  to  the 
memory  of  Samuel  Hallett,  so  long  a  worship- 
per in  that  pew — a  place  which  now  knows 
him  no  more  for  ever ;  and  for  many  years 


an  honourable  member  and  office-bearer  in 
this  church. 

I.  Then,  we  consider  the  words  in  con- 
nexion with  our  Saviour.  Here  it  will  be 
necessary  to  observe,  that  our  Lord  had  been 
twice  at  Jerusalem  of  late,  and  each  time  the 
Jews  had  evinced  a  disposition  to  kill  him. 
From  the  past,  it  was  natural  for  his  disciples 
to  fear  for  the  future  ;  and,  therefore,  when 
he  said,  "  Let  us  go  into  Judea  again,"  his 
disciples  say  unto  him,  "  Master,  the  Jews 
of  late  sought  to  stone  thee ;  and  goest  thou 
thither  again]  Jesus  answered,  Are  there 
not  twelve  hours  in  the  day  1  If  any  man 
walk  in  the  day,  he  stumbleth  not,  because 
he  seeth  the  light  of  this  world.  But  if  a 
man  walk  in  the  night,  he  stumbleth,  because 
there  is  no  light  in  him.  These  things  said 
he :  and  after  that  he  saith  unto  them,  Our 
friend  Lazarus  sleepeth  ;  but  I  go,  that  I  may 
awake  him  out  of  sleep.  Then  said  his  dis- 
ciples, Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well. 
Howbeit  Jesus  spake  of  his  death :  but  they 
thought  that  he  had  spoken  of  taking  of  rest 
in  sleep.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  them  plain- 
ly, Lazarus  is  dead.  And  I  am  glad  for  your 
sakes  that  I  was  not  there,  to  the  intent  ye 
may  believe ;  nevertheless  let  us  go  unto 
him." — Upon  which,  concluding  that  he 
would  throw  himself  into  certain  jeopardy  by 
this  journey,  and  looking  upon  him  as  a  dead 
man,  Thomas  said  unto  his  fellow-disciples, 
"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 
him."    Here  observe: — 

First,  That  his  apprehension  was  not  ve- 
rified. So  far  from  it,  Jesus  was  not  only 
preserved  but  magnified ;  and  Thomas  and 
his  companions  saw  his  glory,  and  had  their 
faith  confirmed,  and  shared  in  the  honour  of 
being  the  disciples  of  such  a  master.  Thus 
groundless  are  often  our  forebodings;  and 
thus  the  Lord  frequently  reminds  us  of  a  trial 
and  brings  it  nigh;  but  when  our  disposition 
appears,  and  like  Abraham,  we  are  willing  to 
make  the  sacrifice,  he  exempts  us  from  the 
enduring,  and  says,  "  It  is  well  that  it  was 
in  thine  heart."  For  he  looketh  to  the  heart, 
and  honours  the  design  when  it  fails  of  exe- 
cution— not  for  want  of  principle  and  zeal, 
but  of  means  and  opportunity.  When  we 
follow  the  world,  we  find  disgrace  where  we 
promised  ourselves  glory ;  and  bondage  where 
we  looked  for  liberty;  and  wretchedness 
where  we  sought  for  pleasure ; — but  in  fol- 
lowing the  Lord  Jesus,  our  fears  are  falsified, 
our  hopes  are  surpassed,  and  he  does  for  us 
exceeding  abundantly  above  all  that  we  ask 
or  think ;  according  to  his  own  decision, 
"  whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it, 
and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake 
shall  find  it." 

Secondly,  Though  however  in  this  instance 
the  event  differed  so  widely  from  his  antici- 
pation, at  length  the  time  arrived  that  the 
Son  of  Man  was  betrayed  and  apprehended 


276 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


in  order  to  be  put  to  death.  And  how  did 
Thomas  then  behave  himself? — He  who  had 
so  heroically  said,  and  said  sincerely  too, 
"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 
him  !"  Was  he  willing  then  to  follow  him 
to  prison  and  to  death  ?  "  Then  all  the  dis- 
ciples forsook  him  and  fled."  Ah,  Thomas! 
where  are  you  now  ?  Are  you  now  confess- 
ing him  before  men  ?  Are  you  now  a  com- 
panion with  him  in  his  bonds  ?  Are  you  now 
soothing  him  by  your  sympathy  ?  "  He  looked 
for  some  to  take  pity  and  there  was  none ; 
and  for  comforters,  and  he  found  none." 
"  Lord,  what  is  man  ?"  What  a  difference 
is  there  between  an  imaginary  and  a  real 
conflict !  "  The  children  of  Ephraim,  being 
armed  and  carrying  bows,  turned  back  in  the 
day  of  battle."  What  a  difference  between 
a  warm  frame  and  a  heart  established  with 
grace  !  What  can  a  man  depend  upon  in  the 
hour  of  temptation? — His  professions!  His 
resolutions?  His  former  experience?  "He 
that  trusteth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool."  And 
what  is  he  that  trusts  in  his  own  grace? 
"  My  grace,"  says  the  Saviour, — not  thine ; 
"  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee."  Be  strong 
in  the  grace  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  But 

Thirdly.  The  disposition  Thomas  now  ex- 
pressed was  such  as  well  becomes  every  dis- 
ciple of  Jesus.  Yet,  they  ought  to  feel  that 
perfect  love  to  him  that  casteth  out  fear ;  to 
be  willing  to  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever 
he  goeth;  to  be  ready  to  suffer  with  him  the 
loss  of  all  things;  and  to  say  with  Paul,  Christ 
shall  be  magnified  in  my  body,  whether  it  be 
by  life  or  by  death. — If  we  consider  what  he 
commands,  this  disposition  is  obedience :  and 
has  he  not  said,  "  if  any  man  will  be  my  dis- 
ciple, let  him  deny  himself  and  take  up  his 
cross  and  follow  me.  He  that  forsaketh  not 
all  that  he  hath  cannot  be  my  disciple?" — If 
we  consider  what  he  has  done,  this  disposi- 
tion is  gratitude.  And  what  has  he  not  done? 
He  remembered  us  in  our  low  estate.  For 
our  sakes,  when  rich  he  became  poor.  He 
died  that  we  might  live. — If  we  consider  how 
important  and  necessary  he  is  to  us,  this  dis- 
position is  wisdom.  And  can  we  do  for  a  mo- 
ment without  him  ? 

This  flesh  of  mine  might  learn  as  soon 
To  live,  yet  part  with  all  my  blood ; 
To  breathe  when  vital  air  is  gone, 
Or  thrive  and  grow  without  my  food. 

— If  we  consider  him  as  able  and  engaged 
to  indemnify  us  for  all  we  can  lose  or  suffer, 
this  disposition  is  self-interest.  And  has  he 
not  said,  "  There  is  no  man  that  hath  left 
house,  or  parents,  or  brethren,  or  wife,  or  chil- 
dren, for  the  kingdom  of  God's  sake,  who 
shall  not  receive  manifold  more  in  this  pre- 
sent time,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  ever- 
lasting."— If  we  consider  our  profession  of 
his  name,  this  disposition  is  self-consistency 
— and  are  not  his  vows  upon  us?  We  have 
come  to  his  table ;  we  have  joined  ourselves 


to  his  people ;  we  have  opened  our  mouths 
unto  the  Lord,  and  we  cannot  go  back. 

Fourthly.  We  admire  also  his  zeal  in  wish- 
ing to  infuse  his  own  spirit  into  his  brethren, 
and  to  animate  them  to  the  same  tone  of  holy 
and  high  resolution.  "Let  us  go  that  we  may 
die  with  him."  Does  this  imply  any  indiffer- 
ence in  those  he  addressed  ?  Were  the  dis- 
ciples turning  aside  and  whispering  among 
themselves  about  going  forward  ?  Were  they 
hesitating  through  fear  whether  they  should 
advance  even  with  him,  into  the  jaws  of  dan- 
ger ?  It  is  possible,  it  is  probable.  There- 
fore, says  St.  Thomas,  to  his  fellow-disciples, 
"  What !  shall  we  abandon  such  a  master  in 
the  hour  of  trial?  Shall  we  see  him  likely  to 
be  sacrificed  and  not  rally  around  his  Sacred 
Person  ?  Shall  we  refuse  the  fellowship  of 
his  sufferings?  Let  us  bare  our  bosoms  to 
the  same  treatment.  Let  the  same  blow  that 
strikes  him  strike  us  also."  "  Let  us  ajlso 
go,  that  we  may  die  with  him."  For  good 
men  are  not  always  in  the  same  state  of  mind. 
They  are  not  always  themselves.  There  are 
cases  in  which  nature  seems  ready  to  prevail 
over  grace ;  and  "  Wo,"  says  Solomon,  "  to 
him  that  is  alone  when  he  falleth,  for  there 
is  not  another  to  keep  him  up."  Hence  our 
Saviour  sent  forth  the  seventy  disciples  in 
pairs,  not  only  to  render  their  testimony 
stronger,  but  that  they  might  watch  over 
each  other  in  temptation,  and  cheer  each 
other  in  discouragement.  Thus,  "Jonathan 
went  to  David  in  the  wood,  and  strengthened 
his  hand  in  God."  Thus  "  as  iron  sharpen- 
ed iron,  so  doth  the  countenance  of  a  man 
his  friend."  And  hence  we  are  commanded, 
like  Thomas,  to  "  strengthen  the  weak  hands 
and  confirm  the  feeble  knees ;"  and  to  "  con- 
sider one  another,  to  provoke  unto  love  and 
good  works."    We  proceed, 

II.  To  consider  the  words  in  connexion 
with  Lazarus.  Jesus  you  will  remember  had 
plainly  said,  Lazarus  is  dead;  but  immedi- 
ately added,  "Nevertheless  let  us  go  unto 
him." — Then  said  Thomas  unto  his  fellow- 
disciples,  "  Well,  since  he  is  dead,  let  us 

ALSO  GO,  THAT  WE  MAY  DIE  WITH  HIM."  

Thus  uttering  a  sentiment,  in  some  respects, 
perhaps,  too  passionately  expressed,  but  which, 
I  presume,  appears  perfectly  natural ;  and  has 
doubtless  been  felt  by  every  individual  in  the 
hour  of  bereavement.  And  it  implies  four 
principles, — warmth  of  affection, — indiffer- 
ence to  life, — powerful  conviction, — and  de- 
lightful hope. 

First.  Warmth  of  affection.  Such  there 
appears  to  have  been  between  Lazarus  and 
the  disciples.  Whoever  was  dear  to  Jesus 
was  dear  to  them ;  "  now  Jesus  loved  Martha 
and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus."  Also  when 
speaking  of  him,  he  said,  "  our  friend,  Laza- 
rus, sleepeth ;"  marking  thereby  their  attach- 
ment, as  well  as  his  own.  And  the  gradual 
and  gentle  manner  in  which  he  communica- 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


277 


ted  the  intelligence  of  his  death,  shows  that 
he  knew  how  deeply  it  would  affect  their 
minds.  There  was,  it  would  seem,  much 
also  in  Lazarus  that  was  attractive.  For  it 
is  not  the  death  of  every  one  that  draws  forth 
the  exclamation,  Let  us  also  go,  that  we 
may  die  with  him.  There  are  persons  whose 
death  would  awaken  no  emotion  but  that  of 
pleasure.  "When,"  says  Solomon,  "the 
wicked  perish,  there  is  shouting."  The  neigh- 
bourhood feels  it  to  be  not  a  loss,  but  a  rid- 
dance. If  some  were  allowed  again  to  re- 
turn to  life,  they  would  find  every  avenue  by 
which  they  could  re-enter  the  world  bolted 
and  barred  against  them.  But  how  would 
some  be  welcomed  back  again?  How  would 
many  surround  the  mouth  of  the  grave  to  hail 
them,  and  accompany  them  home  with  songs 
of  praise  ?  "  For  when  the  eye  saw  them, 
it  blessed  them;  and  when  the  ear  heard 
them,  it  gave  witness  unto  them ;  because 
they  delivered  the  poor  when  he  cried,  the 
fatherless,  and  him  that  had  no  helper.  The 
blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came 
upon  them,  and  they  caused  the  widow's  heart 
to  sing  for  joy." 

All  religious  individuals  do  not  intrench 
themselves  deeply  in  the  affections  of  others. 
The  apostle  makes  a  distinction  between  a 
good  man,  and  a  righteous  man.  "For 
scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die,  yet 
peradventure  for  a  good  man  some  will  even 
dare  to  die."  It  is  goodness  that  wins  the 
heart,  and  makes  one  man  a  god  to  another. 
And  such  a  man  was  Lazarus ;  nor  is  it  im- 
probable but  that  the  disciples  were  under 
peculiar  obligations  to  his  kindness  a«d  ge- 
nerosity; and  thus  gratitude  mingled  with 
friendship,  to  produce  the  language  of  endear- 
ment in  the  text. 

We  are  made  capable  of  affection ;  and  he  is 
unworthy  the  name  of  a  man  who  is  a  stran- 
ger to  it.  It  does  the  highest  honour  to  our 
nature ;  and  religion,  so  far  from  opposing  it, 
sanctifies  it,  and  increases  it ;  and  "  by  this," 
says  our  Saviour,  "  shall  all  men  know  that 
ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  love  one  another." 

And  can  there  be  a  stronger  expression  of 
love  to  any  one  than  wishing  to  be  near  him 
— with  him, — with  him  in  life  and — with  him 
even  in  death  ]  Paul  tells  the  Corinthians, 
"  I  have  you  in  my  heart,  both  to  live  and  to 
die  with  you."  Ruth  saith  to  Naomi,  "  En- 
treat me  not  to  leave  thee,  or  to  return  from 
following  after  thee  ;  for  whither  thou  goest 
I  will  go ;  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will 
lodge :  thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
thy  God  my  God ;  where  thou  diest  will  I 
die,  and  there  will  I  be  buried."  Hear  the 
dying  patriarch  when  he  had  blessed  his 
sons,  "  And  he  charged  them,  and  said  unto 
them,  I  am  to  be  gathered  unto  my  people  : 
bury  me  with  my  fathers  in  the  cave  that  is 
in  the  field  of  Ephron  the  Hittite ;  in  the 
cave  that  is  in  the  field  Macphelah,  which  is 
24 


before  Mamre,  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  which 
Abraham  bought  with  the  field  of  Ephron  the 
Hittite,  for  a  possession  of  a  burying-place. 
There  they  buried  Abraham  and  Sarah  his 
wife ;  there  they  buried  Isaac  and  Rebekah 
his  wife  ;  and  there  I  buried  Leah."  In  vain 
persons  ask  for  a  reason  to  justify  such  a  pre- 
ference. He  has  no  heart,  who  can  ask. ' 
The  sentiment  is  founded  in  our  nature,  and 
pervades  every  human  bosom,  unadulterated 
by  "  the  god  of  this  world." 

But  the  strength  of  affection  is  evinced 
most  strongly  at  the  moment  of  separation. 
It  is  the  want  that  teaches  us  the  worth  of 
our  comforts.  What  we  have  securely,  we 
hold  loosely;  but  we  take  a  firmer  grasp 
when  we  feel  that  it  is  leaving  us.  When 
Elisha  knew  that  his  master  was  going  to  be 
taken  from  his  head,  how  he  prized  the  last 
interview.  How  determined  was  he  to  im- 
prove every  moment,  and  therefore  refused 
to  go  back  though  enjoined  again  and  again. 

"  How  mercies  brighten  as  they  take  their  flight."  — 

You  love  your  child ;  but  it  is  when  he  is 
leaving  you  to  take  a  long  voyage,  that  pa- 
rental tenderness  overflows.  You  may  value 
a  mother,  and  treat  her  with  every  respect ; 
but  it  is  when  she  is  embracing  you  for  the ' 
last  time,  and  you  can  no  longer  have  access 
to  the  bosom  that  has  been  the  asylum  of 
your  care  and  grief. — It  is  then  that  filial 
affection  hallows  her  image,  and  says  "  my 
wound  is  incurable."  When  the  object  of 
our  regard  is  separating  from  us,  we  feel 
many  a  tie  of  which  we  were  not  sensible, 
till  the  cords  were  touched.  Then  we  fear 
and  groan.  Then  even  our  past  inattentions 
and  little  undutifulnesses  endear  the  beloved 
the  more.  Then  we  forget  all  his  imperfec- 
tions, and  remember  and  magnify  his  excel- 
lences ;  and  a  sacredness  seems  thrown  all 
around  him  by  death — "  Let  us  also  go, 

THAT  WE  MAY  DIE  WITH  HIM." 

Secondly.  It  implies  indifference  to  life. 
To  this  we  are  commonly  too  much  attach- 
ed ;  not  as  a  sphere  of  duty  and  usefulness, 
in  which  we  may  glorify  God,  and  perform 
services  to  our  fellow-creatures  which  we 
cannot  perform  in  another  world ;  but  as  a  resi- 
dence, a  home,  a  portion.  Yet  since  we  must 
leave  it,  and  leave  it  soon,  it  would  be  wise 
to  be  ready  and  willing  to  leave  it:  and  there 
are  moments  in  which  the  fascinations  that 
charmed  us  are  dissolved,  and  the  ligatures 
that  confined  us  slacken  ;  and  we  say  with 
Job,  "  I  loathe  it,  I  would  not  live  always ; 
let  me  alone,  for  my  days  are  vanity."  Af- 
flictions in  general  have  this  detaching  influ- 
ence; but  nothing  so  powerfully  draws  us 
off  from  every  thing  here,  as  the  removal  of 
an  object  in  whose  life  our  own  is  felt  to  be 
bound  up,  and  whose  departure  seems  to  leave 
nothing  worth  staying  for  behind. 

Dr.  Young  says, 


278 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


Our  hearts  are  fastened  to  the  world 
With  strong  and  various  ties  ; 

But  every  trouble  cuts  a  string, 
And  urges  us  to  rise." 

And  well  he  adds, 

"  When  Heav'n  would  set  our  spirits  free, 
And  earth's  enchantment  end, 
He  takes  the  most  effectual  means, 
And  robs  us  of  a  friend." 

And  in  another  place, 

"  Our  dying  friends  come  o'er  us  like  a  cloud, 
To  cool  our  brainless  ardours." 

Ah !  many  of  you  have  been  through  this 
scene,  and  have  said,  "  Lover  and  friend  hast 
thou  put  far  from  me,  and  mine  acquaintance 
into  darkness."  Some  of  you  perhaps  have 
suffered  from  nearer  claims.  •  You  have 
known  the  death  of  a  father,  in  whom  was 
combined  all  that  was  venerable  and  affec- 
tionate, all  that  was  interesting  and  attrac- 
tive. You  watched  the  menacing  of  the 
disease;  and  your  hope  often  revived  and 
fainted  again  with  the  variation  of  the  com- 
plaint. But  when  the  physician  intimated 
that  further  assistance  was  vain ;  when  the 
voice  and  the  more  speaking  eye  said  fare- 
well ;  when  in  the  deep  and  solemn  silence 
that  followed  you  felt  plainly,  "  Lazarus  is 
dead ;"  when  you  kissed  the  ice-cold  cheek 
for  the  last  time,  before  your  treasure  was 
screwed  up  for  ever ;  when  you  saw  the  pro- 
cession leaving  the  house  to  return  no  more  ; 
when  at  the  grave  you  heard  the  sentence 
"dust  to  dust" — how  changed,  how  desolate 
did  every  thing  appear,  did  every  thing  feel ! 
How  incapable  of  rekindling  former  passions, 
of  renewing  former  pursuits!  How  dead 
was  the  heart  to  avarice,  to  ambition,  to 
envy !    How  loosely  did  life  hang  upon  you ! 

We  allow  that  the  feeling  at  such  a  time 
may  be  carried  too  far.  Weeping,  says 
Henry,  must  not  hinder  sowing.  We  must 
not,  because  one  comfort  is  gone,  undervalue 
all  our  remaining  mercies,  and  say,  "  Let 
God  take  all,  now  he  has  taken  this."  We 
think  that  we  cannot  do  without  such  a  friend 
or  relation ;  but  God  tells  us  we  must,  and 
time  and  experience  tell  us  we  may.  And 
it  is  well  when  the  fractured  vessel  drives  us 
nearer  to  the  fountain,  and  we  can  say  with 
David,  "  Now  Lord,  what  wait  I  for  1  my 
hope  is  in  Thee." 

Yet,  we  are  censured,  we  are  condemned, 
if  we  do  not  lay  it  to  heart,  when  the  right- 
eous perish,  and  merciful  men  are  taken 
away.  Yet  there  is  an  enlightened  reason 
for  our  diminished  regard  for  earth,  in  the 
loss  of  wise  and  good  men.  It  is  thereby 
impoverished.  It  is  much  less  worthy  of  our 
esteem.  There  is  less  of  truth,  less  of  holi- 
ness, less  of  God's  image  here;  and  if  all 
were  gone,  who  would  wish  to  tarry  here  a 
day  longer  1  While,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
country  towards  which  we  are  going,  is  en- 
riched in  value  and  loveliness ;  and  we  have 
fresh  attraction  to  draw  us  upward. 


"  There  our  best  friends,  our  kindred  dwell." 
"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 

HIM." 

Thirdly.  It  implies  powerful  conviction. 
This  regards  the  nature  of  the  death  he  con- 
templated. Thomas  must  not  have  consider- 
ed Lazarus'  death  as  a  mere  cessation  of  be- 
ing. Had  he  believed  that  Lazarus  died  like 
the  beasts  that  perish  ;  or,  still  more,  that  he 
died  as  an  unpardoned  and  unrenewed  sinner; 
even  had  he  died  the  most  admired  and  dig- 
nified character  in  the  world ;  he  would  not, 
he  could  not  have  said,  "  Let  us  also  go,  that 
we  may  die  with  him ;"  rather  he  would 
have  prayed  with  David,  "  Gather  not  my 
soul  with  sinners,  nor  my  life  with  bloody 
men."  To  die  with  them  is  to  be  driven 
away  in  our  wickedness,  and  to  fall  into  the 
hand  of  the  living  God.  Death  and  damna- 
tion are  the  same  to  the  unconverted.  Some 
of  you  are  nearer  hell  than  you  are  to  the 
grave  :  your  wretched  bodies  may  be  left  a 
few  days  unburied,  but  your  soul  is  in  a  mo- 
ment with  the  devil  and  his  angels.  But 
the  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death.  The 
day  of  his  death  is  better  than  the  day  of  his 
birth. 

What  is  this  death  which  appears  so  envia- 
ble ?    We  call  it  death  because  it  was  so 
once,  but  the  curse  is  turned  into  a  blessing; 
and  according  to  our  Saviour  it  no  longer  now 
deserves  the  name :  "  If  a  man  keep  my 
sayings,  he  shall  never  see  death."    No,  he 
shall  only  fall  asleep  in  Jesus :  he  shall  only 
depart  to  be  with  Christ  which  is  far  better. 
What  is  the  death  of  the  believer"!    It  is 
generally  comfortable,  even  when  preceded 
by  many  fears.    Sometimes  it  is  joyous ;  and 
the  dying  chamber  is  "  none  other  than  the 
house  of  God,  and  the  gate  of  heaven." 
There,  has  been  brought  to  pass  the  saying 
that  is  written,  "  death  is  swallowed  up  in 
victory."    There,  we  have  been  almost  in 
love  with  death,  and  have  been  ready  to  ex- 
claim "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace,  according  to  thy  word :  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation."  This 
is  not  indeed  always  the  case.    He  does  not 
always  die  in  rapture ;  but  he  always  dies  in 
safety.    It  is  not  in  the  power  of  death, 
whatever  be  his  apprehensions  and  feeling  at 
the  moment,  to  injure  one  particle  of  his  por- 
tion.   Yea,  to  die  is  gain,  inconceivable  and 
everlasting  gain.    The  result,  therefore,  is 
always  the  same.    If  he  wants  the  light  of 
God's  countenance,  he  who  withholds  it  loves 
him  still;  and  if  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  be  dark  and  gloomy,  it  is  not  long, 
and  opens  into  endless  day.    Then,  O  blessed 
exchange,  he  leaves  all  his  sin,  and  reaches 
his  God,  in  whose  presence  there  is  fulness 
of  joy,  and  at  whose  right  hand  there  are 
pleasures  for  evermore. 

Some  may  be  ready  to  envy  the  death,  of 
the  scholar.    His  name  is  announced  in  the 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


279 


journals  with  all  his  honours.  Some  masterly 
pen  is  immediately  engaged  to  publish  his 
life  and  his  works.  The  marble  perpetuates 
his  name,  and  his  bones  are  entombed  by  the 
side  of  poets  and  philosophers.  But  the  soul, 
where  is  this  !  Alas !  he  was  great  every 
where  but  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  He  could 
speak  every  language  but  the  language  of 
Canaan.  He  knew  every  thing  but  the  one 
thing  needful.  But  see  that  cottager,  on  yon- 
der pallet  of  straw.  He  is  dying  fameless 
and  unknown ;  but  he  knows  Christ  Jesus  the 
Lord,  and  knows  that  in  him  he  has  righte- 
ousness and  strength.  And  the  excellency 
of  this  knowledge  raises  him  above  the  fear 
of  death,  refreshes  his  fainting  spirit,  opens  a 
heaven  in  his  heart,  and  brings  angels  near. 
Let  me  go  and  die  with  him  ! 

Some  may  be  tempted  to  admire  and  covet 
the  death  of  the  hero.  Regardless  of  the 
righteousness  of  the  cause  in  which  he  is 
engaged,  falling  in  the  rield  of  battle,  if  he 
dies  a  victor,  he  is  shouted.  He  falls  on  the 
bed  of  honour  and  in  the  arms  of  glory.  A 
public  funeral  is  decreed  him.  A  country 
follows.  His  name  goes  forth  into  every 
land.  But  where  is  his  soul  1  Who  thinks 
of  this?  I  think  of  it,  and  turn  away.  I 
turn  to  the  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  fighting 
the  good  fight  of  faith,  and  laying  hold  on 
eternal  life.  His  exploits,  unnoticed  and  un- 
known on  earth,  are  gazetted  above.  By  faith 
I  see  him  more  than  a  conqueror,  led  in  by 
the  captain  of  his  salvation,  who  confesses 
him  before  his  Father  and  the  holy  angels ; 
and  the  promise  is  accomplished,  "  He  that 
overcometh  shall  inherit  all  things  ;  and  I  will 
be  his  God,  and  he  shall  be  my  son."  Let 
me  go  and  die  with  him ! 

We  read  of  another  Lazarus  in  the  Scrip- 
tures. He  was  a  beggar  and  full  of  sores. 
And  we  read  of  a  rich  man,  at  whose  gates 
he  was  laid  to  implore  relief.  They  both 
died.  But  nothing  is  said  of  the  burial  of 
Lazarus.  But  the  rich  man  was  "buried" 
according  to  his  rank.  Yet,  observe  the  dif- 
ference. Lazarus  died  in  the  favour  of  God, 
and  was  carried  by  angels  into  Abraham's 
bosom.  The  rich  man  died  and  was  buried — 
but  while  the  undertaker  was  displaying  the 
emblems  of  his  wealth  and  grandeur,  he  was 
lifting  up  his  eyes  in  hell,  being  in  torment, 
and  in  vain  craving  a  drop  of  water  to  cool 
his  tongue  !  Now,  I  ask,  with  which  of  these 
two  men  would  you  have  wished  to  die] 
Why  even  a  Balaam,  when  his  eyes  were 
open,  said,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his." 

Fourthly.  The  sentiment  in  our  text  in- 
cludes a  delightful  hope.  Thomas  had  a  sa- 
tisfactory persuasion,  that  death,  so  far  from 
separating  him  and  his  fellow-disciples  from 
Lazarus,  would  bring  them  together  again, 
and  renew  acquaintance  and  intimacy  as  be- 
fore.   Such  an  expectation  is  not  visionary, 


but  well  founded ;  and  is  necessary  to  recon- 
cile us  to  the  death  of  our  connexions  and  to 
our  own.  We  are  formed  for  society,  and 
much,  very  much,  of  our  happiness  depends 
on  our  intercourse  with  each  other.  You 
talk  of  comfort  and  pleasure !  Think  of  what 
the  Apostle  calls,  the  comforts  of  love  ;  think 
of  the  pleasures  of  friendship,  and  especially 
of  religious  friendship.  Think  of  the  hours 
you  have  passed  with  those  who  are  gone 
before  you — in  the  morning  and  evening 
walk — in  gazing  on  the  beauties  of  nature — in 
mental  discourse — in  pious  conversation — in 
taking  sweet  counsel  together,  and  going  to 
the  house  of  God  in  company — in  the  songs 
of  Zion.  "  Ointment  and  perfume  rejoice  the 
heart,  so  doth  a  man  his  friends  by  hearty 
counsel."  And  is  all  this  intercourse  termi- 
nated for  ever?  No,  it  is  only  suspended  for 
a  time — suspended  till  you  also  die.  They 
cannot  indeed  come  back  to  you,  and  would 
you  desire  it, 

"  and  constrain. 
Their  unbound  spirits  into  bonds  again  ?" 

But  you  will  go  to  them ;  and  you  will  mingle 
with  them  again ;  and  there  will  be  mutual 
knowledge  :  and  not  only  will  you  know  each 
other,  but  your  communion  will  be  renewed, 
and  not  only  renewed,  but  improved.  And 
then  your  intercourse  will  be  attended  with 
a  thousand  advantages  above  all  you  now 
enjoy. 

Witness  the  regions  you  shall  meet  in 
there.  "  For  the  land  whither  ye  go  in  to 
possess  it,  is  not  as  the  land  of  Egypt,  from 
whence  ye  came  out."  "  It  is  a  better  coun- 
try." "  New  heavens,  and  a  new  earth, 
wherein  dwelleth  righteousness." 

Witness  the  exclusion  of  all  afflictions 
from  your  condition  there.  Now,  you  not 
only  rejoice  but  weep  with  your  connexions. 
It  is  unavoidable,  if  you  love  them.  For  they 
also  are  born  to  trouble ;  and  you  are  em- 
barked with  them  in  the  same  vessel,  and 
must  encounter  the  same  winds  and  waves. 
And  what  so  grievous  as  to  see  an  endeared 
object  in  grief?  And  how  much  more  is  en- 
dured often  by  sympathy  than  the  sufferer 
himself  feels?  But  there  you  will  no  longer 
be  called  to  fortify  them  under  reproach ;  or 
to  sooth  under  pain.  You  will  no  more  be 
required  to  sustain  the  aching  head,  or  to  ad- 
minister the  irksome  draught.  The  inhabi- 
tant shall  no  more  say,  "I  am  sick."  No 
more  will  your  heart  be  pierced  with  the 
words  or  looks  of  anguish  beyond  your  relief : 
"Pity  me,  pity  me,  O  ye  my  friends,  for  the 
hand  of  God  hath  touched  me." 

Witness  the  absence  of  all  moral  imper- 
fections there.  Now  you  try  your  friends, 
and  they  try  you  by  infirmities  of  temper  and 
carriage.  It  must  needs  be,  that  offences 
will  come,  among  beings  only  sanctified  in 
part;  and  the  case  is,  that  if  love  is  to  go  on, 
it  must  cover  a  multitude  of  sins;  if  you 


280  FRIENDSHIP 

would  live  in  peace,  you  must  forgive  one 
another.  But  there,  they  will  have  nothing 
to  bear  with  in  you,  and  you  will  have  no- 
thing to  bear  with  in  them. 

Witness  the  fulness  of  intelligence  pos- 
sessed there.  Allowing  that  there  are  de- 
grees in  glory,  yet  the  least  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  will  know  more  than  any  philoso- 
pher or  divine  here  ;  and  with  all  this 
knowledge  in  the  works  of  Nature,  and  dis- 
pensations of  Providence,  and  wonders  of  Re- 
demption, we  shall  be  prepared  for,  and  enjoy 
the  most  sublime  communion : — 

"No  vain  discourse  shall  fill  our  tongue, 
Nor  trifles  vex  our  ear ; 
Infinite  grace  shall  be  our  song. 
And  God  rejoice  to  hear." 

Witness  the  superior  modes  of  communi- 
cation there.  Now  we  often  mistake  each 
other,  and  embarrass  ourselves  by  the  penury 
of  language.  We  can  only  now  convey  our- 
selves by  words — and  how  defective  are  these ! 
They  are  not  definite  enough  to  prevent  error, 
or  tender  enough  to  express  many  a  feeling 
of  the  heart,  or  sublime  enough  to  do  justice 
to  the  conceptions  of  the  mind.  The  utter- 
ance of  a  big  meaning  is  often  diminished, 
mangled,  suppressed,  by  them.  There,  no 
labour  and  sorrow  will  attend  the  birth  of  our 
thoughts ;  our  speech  will  be  commensurate 
with  our  sentiments  ;  we  shall  speak  with 
"  the  tongue  of  angels  !" 

Witness  the  opportunities  of  intercourse 
there.  Now  our  seasons  for  this,  are  few 
and  impaired,  by  distance,  by  sleep,  by  the 
avocations  and  cares  of  life.  By  a  thousand 
nameless  preventions,  how  little  do  we  now 
enjoy  of  the  presence  and  converse  of  those 
we  most  highly  esteem  and  most  dearly  love ! 
There,  our  freedom  will  be  uninvaded,  and 
our  conversation  uninterrupted.  For 

Witness,  finally,  the  duration,  the  perpetu- 
ity, the  eternity  of  our  fellowship  there.  How 
short  is  the  letter  over  whose  page  you  now 
glow !  How  soon  ends  the  delightful  con- 
versation you  are  now  sometimes  privileged 
to  enjoy  !  You  expect  a  friend,  and  prepare 
for  the  enjoyment,  but  the  interview  seems  a 
vision  rather  than  a  visit : 

"  She  is  come — she  is  gone — we  have  met 
And  meet,  perhaps,  never  again. 

And  O  the  dread  of  separation  !  The  anguish 
of  loss  when  they  leave  us — in  death !  You 
sorrow,  most  of  all,  that  you  "  shall  see  their 
face  no  more !"  But  you  shall  see  them 
again,  and  your  hearts  shall  rejoice,  and  your 
joy  no  man  shall  take  from  you ;  and  looking 
at  the  picture  of  departed  worth,  you  may  re- 
collect with  a  hope  that  maketh  not  ashamed, 
your  "  last  adieu  :" 

"  But  was  it  such  ?   It  was.   Where  thou  art  gone, 
Adieus  and  farewells  are  a  sound  unknown. 
May  I  but  meet  thee  on  that  peaceful  shore! 
The  parting  sound  shall  pass  my  lips  no  more." 

By  these  reflections,  I  know  I  have  ex- 


IN  DEATH. 

pressed  the  feelings  of  some,  and  I  am  per- 
suaded also,  of  many,  with  regard  to  the  re- 
moval of  our  excellent  friend  and  brother, 
of  whom  it  will  now  be  expected  that  I 
should  take  a  more  particular  notice,  not  to 
extol  the  creature,  but  to  glorify  God  in  him. 

Services  of  this  kind  are,  sometimes,  very 
trying — not  only  by  the  excitement  of  feel- 
ing, but  by  the  task  they  impose  upon  our  in- 
genuity and  conscientiousness.  For  the  sake 
of  fond  and  unreasonable  connexions,  we  are 
expected  to  create  something  out  of  nothing ; 
or,  at  least,  to  magnify  and  enrich  the  poor 
and  slender  materials  we  find.  For  brass, 
we  are  to  bring  gold ;  and  for  iron  we  are  to 
bring  silver;  and  for  wood,  brass;  and  for 
stones,  iron.  And  while  we  abound  in  pane- 
gyric, we  are  not  at  liberty  even  to  hint  a 
fault  or  a  blemish.  Sometimes,  even  in  good 
characters,  there  is  much  to  censure  or  be- 
wail ;  but  it  must  all  be  concealed  or  extenu- 
ated. So  arduous  and  painful,  indeed,  are 
these  exercises  become,  and  so  much  more 
likely  are  they  to  offend  than  to  satisfy,  when 
they  are  faithfully  performed,  that  some  mi- 
nisters have  determined  to  preach  no  funeral 
sermons  at  all.  O  that  you  would  so  conduct 
yourselves,  as  not  to  pain  your  ministers 
while  you  live,  nor  plague  them  when  you 
die ! 

But  I  have  no  embarrassment  this  morning. 
In  the  man  before  us,  there  is  nothing  to  find 
out,  nothing  to  hide,  nothing  to  excuse.  He 
was  a  child  of  the  light,  and  of  the  day.  Not 
that  he  had  already  attained,  or  was  already 
perfect,  or  had  ceased  to  own  himself  a  sin- 
ner at  the  footstool  of  divine  mercy — 

"  For  he  was  frail  as  thou  or  I, 
And  evil  felt  within ; 
But  when  he  felt  it,  heaved  a  sigh. 
And  loathed  the  thought  of  sin."— 

And  his  life  was  the  harmony  of  principle 
and  practice ;  and  his  creed  was  imbodied  in 
his  conduct ;  and  he  was  an  Israelite  indeed, 
in  whom  was  no  guile ;  and  in  this  he  exer- 
cised himself,  always  to  have  a  conscience 
void  of  offence  toward  God  and  toward 
man. 

I  have  not  been  furnished  with  any  precise 
information  concerning  the  commencement 
of  his  religion,  nor  did  I  deem  it  necessary 
to  make  any  inquiries  after  it.  The  reality 
is  the  thing  to  be  ascertained.  Here  we 
have  the  evidence  of  analogy.  The  changes 
we  observe  in  nature,  are  not  sudden  and 
sensible  disruptions  from  a  preceding  state, 
but  the  gradual  working  and  melting  of  one 
thing  into  another.  The  difference  between 
day  and  night,  and  summer  and  winter,  is 
great ;  yet  the  transition  is  imperceptible  in 
its  progress,  though  undeniable  in  its  effects. 
In  the  experience  of  many,  there  has  been 
nothing  in  the  process  of  their  conversion  de- 
finitive enough  as  to  time,  or  place,  or  man- 
ner, or  means  to  form  a  narrative.  Neither 


FRIENDSHIP 

is  it  important.  It  is  with  the  proof  and  the 
consequences  we  have  to  do.  It  is  enough 
if  we  are  able  to  say,  Whereas  I  was  once 
insensible  to  the  things  of  God,  I  am  now 
alive  to  them ;  whereas  I  was  once  blind, 
now  I  see.  That  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit 
is  spirit. 

Neither  do  I  lay  so  much  stress  as  many 
do  on  a  few  dying  expressions.  Indeed  they 
are  never  to  be  much  regarded,  unless  they 
come  from  characters  that  yield  us  satisfac- 
tion without  them.  When  elevated  frames 
and  triumphant  confidences  are  not  preceded 
by  a  way,  of  which  they  are  a  suitable  end ; 
when  the  death,  instead  of  being  the  natural 
and  scriptural  conclusion  of  the  life,  is  the 
reverse  of  all  that  could  have  been  reasona- 
bly inferred  from  it;  we  should  always  speak 
with  caution  and  fear  ;  for  though  we  are  not 
to  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  in  the  sove- 
reignty of  his  operations,  he  has  limited  us 
in  the  rule  of  our  judgment.  "Mark  the 
perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright ;  for  the 
end  of  that  man  is  peace."  Where  there 
has  been  a  real  and  obvious  dedication  to  the 
service  and  glory  of  God,  it  is  encouraging 
to  see  how  God  honours  them  that  honour 
him ;  and  when  persons  have  said  by  their 
practice,  "  For  me  to  live  is  Christ,"  it  is  de- 
lightful to  hear  them  say  by  their  comfort, 
"  For  me  to  die  is  gain."  But  physical  causes 
may  have  great  influence  here ;  and  I  have 
known  some  very  good  men,  who  have  ex- 
pressed but  little  confidence  and  joy  in  their 
last  moments;  and  the  full  assurance  of  hope 
is  not  what  I  only  or  principally  look  after 
in  a  Christian  dying ;  but  the  penitence 
which  lays  a  man  low  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross;  the  self-abasement,  which  under  a  sense 
of  unworthiness  and  unprofitableness,  cries, 
"  Behold  I  am  vile ;"  the  gratitude  which  ac- 
knowledges under  every  pain,  "He  has  not 
dealt  with  me  after  my  desert ;"  the  resigna- 
tion that  avows,  "  I  know,  O  Lord,  that  thy 
judgments  are  right,  and  that  Thou  in  faith- 
fulness hast  afflicted  me ;"  the  love  to  the 
Saviour  that  feels  Him  "  precious,"  and 
speaks  "  well  of  his  name ;"  the  concern  to 
do  good,  that  leads  him,  "while  life  and 
breath  remains,"  to  commend  His  ways  to 
those  he  is  leaving  behind — all  connected 
with  humble  confidence,  and  a  "  looking  for 
the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto 
eternal  life."  And  all  this  was  displayed  in 
various  instances  by  the  deceased.  I  am  not 
provided  with  any  written  document,  but 
from  the  oral  communications  of  his  constant 
attendants,  and  my  own  visits  to  the  chamber 
of  sickness  and  death,  I  can  testify  how  full 
he  was  of  self-complaint;  how  patient  in 
tribulation ;  how  affected  with  his  little  im- 
provement of  spiritual  advantages ;  how  fear- 
ful lest  the  end  of  his  former  sickness  and 
recovery  should  not  have  been  answered; 
how  desirous  of  obtaining  grace  to  suffer  as  a 
2N  24* 


IN  DEATH.  281 

Christian,  and  to  glorify  God  in  the  fire. 
Whenever,  as  I  was  kneeling  by  the  side  of 
the  bed  of  languishing,  I  asked  him  what  I 
should  pray  for  on  his  behalf,  the  answer  al- 
ways indicated  just  such  views  and  feelings 
as  became  his  condition,  and  contented  a 
pastor's  heart.  They  who  were  present,  will 
not  easily  forget  the  manner  in  which,  a  little 
before  his  death,  he  admonished  and  encou- 
raged, taking  her  by  the  hand,  a  youthful 
relative,  to  remember  and  seek  the  Lord. 

Many  wish  to  be  imposed  upon,  or  at  least, 
to  be  kept  ignorant  of  their  danger ;  but  the 
deceased  had  engaged  his  medical  attendant 
beforehand,  to  inform  him  of  his  real  condi- 
tion. Soon  after  taking  to  his  room  he  re- 
minded him  of  his  promise ;  and  when  he 
expressed  his  apprehension,  he  received  it 
with  firmness,  and  thanked  him  for  his  free- 
dom. Though  every  thing  like  ecstasy  was 
unknown,  the  calmness  of  hope  continued 
like  the  softness  and  mildness  of  a  summer's 
evening;  and  he  finished  his  course  with 
peace  though  not  with  joy ;  and  had,  if  not 
an  abundant  departure,  yet  an  abundant  en- 
trance into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour.  His  experience  re- 
minded me  of  the  language  of  a  good  minis- 
ter, whose  death-bed  I  was  attending ;  "  I 
cannot,"  said  he,  "  triumph,  but  I  can  trust." 

I  need  not  say  he  was  an  amiable  charac- 
ter. The  religion  of  some  professors  is  not 
only  defective  but  deformed.  To  imperfec- 
tions they  add  disagreeablenesses.  Instead  of 
inviting  and  alluring,  they  check  and  repulse. 
They  seem  to  think  that  Christian  serious- 
ness consists  in  moroseness;  and  fidelity  in 
rudeness;  and  deadness  to  the  world  in  say- 
ing to  others,  "  Stand  by  thyself,  come  not 
near  to  me,  I  am  holier  than  thou."  But 
Mr.  Hallett  was  one  of  those  who  pursue 
"  whatsoever  things  are  lovely  and  of  good 
report;"  and  who  not  only  maintain  but 
"  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our  Saviour." 
His  natural  disposition  was  humane  and  ten- 
der, and  gentle  and  obliging;  and  this  being 
principled  and  sanctified  by  divine  grace, 
produced  in  him  that  cheerfulness  of  mind, 
and  gentleness  of  manners,  and  readiness  of 
intercourse,  and  preference  of  the  gratifica- 
tion of  others  to  his  own  indulgence,  that  at- 
tracted and  attached  all  who  knew  him.  For 
whatever  some  ungracious  lovers  of  them- 
selves may  think,  as  if  it  was  religion  that 
procured  them  dislike  and  disesteem,  the 
words  of  the  apostle  will  always  be  found 
true. — "He  that  in  these  things  serveth 
Christ,  is  accepted  of  God  and  approved  of 
men." 

No  one  can  question  his  beneficence ;  for 
he  had  it  in  his  power,  as  well  as  inclina- 
tion, to  dp  good  and  to  communicate.  His 
life  was  a  stream  of  kindness  flowing  from  a 
generous  heart.  Who  ever  applied  to  him 
in  vain  ]   Who  ever  was  insulted  or  humbled, 


282 


FRIENDSHIP  LN  DEATH. 


or  pained,  in  receiving  relief!  His  charity 
was  administered  with  feeling  and  courteous- 
ness.  He  was  a  cheerful  giver.  Freely  he 
had  received,  and  he  freely  gave. 

Some  congregations  are  not  remarkable 
for  hospitality  to  ministers.  But  our  friend 
was  a  noble  exception.  His  house  was  al- 
ways open  to  receive  and  accommodate  the 
workmen,  who  were  worthy  of  their  hire. 
And  he  found,  as  Henry  says,  that  the  ark  is 
a  guest  that  always  pays  for  its  entertain- 
ment It  made  him  more  intimately  known 
to  many  of  the  servants  of  God,  who  bene- 
fited him  by  their  conversation,  and  gave 
him  an  interest  in  their  prayers.  How  many 
of  these  had  said  in  their  Master's  name, 
when  under  his  roof,  "Peace  be  to  this 
house  !"  How  many  of  these  bore  him  upon 
their  minds  at  a  throne  of  grace,  in  the  closet, 
the  family,  and  the  sanctuary,  during  his 
sickness  and  death ! 

As  he  was  a  man  of  good  natural  talents, 
of  a  sound  understanding  and  a  clear  judg- 
ment, and  had  an  enlarged  acquaintance  with 
men  and  things,  he  was  continually  consulted, 
and  he  much  served  his  generation  by  his 
wise  and  cool  counsel  and  advice. 

But  nothing  could  exceed  his  diffidence 
and  humility.  He  was  clothed  with  it  A 
copy  of  a  letter  has  been  found,  written  years 
ago,  to  a  friend,  anxiously  laying  open  the 
state  of  his  mind ;  and,  wishing  his  unreserv- 
ed and  faithful  opinion  concerning  his  expe- 
rience, after  stating  what  makes  him  fear 
that  he  is  a  stranger  to  the  new  creation,  and 
what  sometimes  leads  him  to  hope  that  he  is 
not  It  would  well  bear  readiug,  if  time 
would  allow.  The  solicitude  it  betrayed  was 
a  token  for  good :  it  could  only  have  resulted 
from  the  very  thing  it  questioned.  This 
carefulness  never  diminished.  Instead  of 
talking  of  his  conversion  as  a  thing  past  and 
certain,  like  one  before  him,  he  prayed, 
"  Lord,  create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  and  re- 
new a  right  spirit  within  me."  He  required 
to  be  urged  to  come  forward  and  make  a 
profession  of  religion  when  he  first  joined  our 
communion :  for  while  his  minister  and  all  his 
fellow-worshippers  had  the  fullest  confidence 
concerning  him,  he  feared  that  the  root  of  the 
matter  was  not  in  him,  and  that  having  only 
a  name  to  live,  he  should  prove  a  disgrace  to 
the  cause  of  Christ,  and  come  short  at  last 
For  like  Fearing  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
he  had  no  fear  beside  this.  He  was  not  de- 
void of  moral  heroism.  He  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  cut  off  a  right  hand  or  pluck  out 
a  right  eye.  He  never  shunned  the  avowal 
of  divine  truth,  or  drew  back  from  following 
where  duty  led  the  way.  And  if  his  soul  re- 
fused to  be  comforted,  it  was  not  because  he 
did  not  love  and  desire  the  blessings^ ontained 
in  the  promises ;  but  because  he  did  love  and 
desire  them  supremely ;  and  therefore  feared 
that  they  were  too  good  and  great  to  be  de- 


signed for  one  like  him.  For  though  it  be 
commonly  said  that  it  is  easy  to  believe  what 
we  wish,  the  experience  of  every  man  gives 
the  lie  to  the  observation ;  and  the  more  im- 
portance we  attach  to  a  thing,  and  the  more 
our  happiness  is  felt  to  be  wrapped  up  in  it, 
the  more  anxious  we  become ;  the  more  lia- 
ble and  alive  we  are  to  fear ;  we  want  evi- 
dence upon  evidence,  and  assurance  upon  as- 
surance, and  can  never  deem  ourselves  suffi- 
ciently certain.  If  it  be  blessed  to  be  "  poor 
in  spirit,"  "  to  hunger  and  thirst  after  right- 
eousness," "  to  mourn  for  sin;"  if  "blessed  is 
the  man  that  feareth  always,"  he  was,  the 
Bible  being  true,  an  heir  of  promise ;  and 
whatever  he  suspected,  his  title  was  divinely 
valid. 

His  sentiments  were  the  result  of  exami- 
nation and  conviction ;  and  he  held  them  with 
firmness,  both  with  regard  to  doctrine  and 
dissent  But  who  ever  witnessed  the  least 
intolerance  or  bigotry  in  him  !  When  did  he 
ever  lay  an  undue  stress  on  any  of  the  cir- 
cumstantial differences  of  real  Christians  1 
At  what  moment  could  he  not  say,  from  the 
heart,  "  Grace  be  with  all  them  that  love  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  sincerity :"  "  For 
whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father 
who  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother, 
and  sister,  and  mother." 

It  has  been  said,  and  truly  said,  that  in  re- 
ligion a  man  is  really  what  he  is  relatively. 
By  this  rule  let  the  departed  be  tried.  What 
a  testimony  has  he  left  in  the  bosom  of  all 
those  most  intimately  connected  with  him, 
that  "  in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  not 
with  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by  the  grace  of  God 
he  had  his  conversation  in  the  world,  and 
more  abundantly  to  them-ward."  What  ten- 
der and  approving  remembrances  has  he  left, 
— in  those  servants  who  so  long  attended 
upon  him, — in  those  workmen  that  have 
grown  gray  in  his  service,* — in  this  worthy 
partner  of  his  business,  with  whom,  from  the 
commencement  to  the  close  of  their  connex- 
ion, there  never  was  one  moment's  disagree- 
ment,— in  this  large  circle  of  friends,  many 
of  whom  have  come  from  a  distance  to  weep 
at  his  grave, — in  this  mourning,  bleeding 
widow, — in  these  tender  and  devoted  daugh- 
ters,— in  this  amiable  and  dutiful  son-in-law, 
— in  these  church  members  with  whom  he 
walked, — in  these  fellow-deacons  with  whom 
he  officiated, — and  in  this  minister  on  whom 
his  intelligent  and  mild  countenance  always 
beamed  affection  and  respect,  who  for  thirty- 
four  years  was  never  grieved  or  tried  by  him; 
and  who,  though  often  employed  as  the  com- 
forter of  his  friend,  was  never  once  called  to 
reprove. 

*  One  of  whom  said  on  the  morning  of  his  interment, 
"  Forty-two  years  I  have  been  working  for  him  ;  when 
I  pleased  him  he  praised  me,  when  I  offended  him  he 
forgave  me,  when  I  was  distressed  he  relieved  me. 
when  I  was  sick  he  visited  me,  and  I  wish  this  day 
was  over." 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


283 


This  brings  me  to  observe  his  conduct  in 
connexion  with  the  church.  Of  this  he  was 
not  only  a  very  honourable  member,  but  a 
deacon  also.  To  this  office  he  had  been 
chosen  for  a  number  of  years  by  the  suffrage 
of  his  brethren,  keeping  their  eye  upon  the 
recommendations  of  the  apostle.  "  Likewise 
also  must  the  deacons  be  grave,  not  double- 
tongued,  not  given  to  much  wine,  not  greedy 
of  filthy  lucre ;  holding  the  mystery  of  the 
faith  in  a'  pure  conscience.  And  let  these 
also  be  first  proved;  then  let  them  use  the 
office  of  a  deacon,  being  found  blameless. 
Even  so  must  their  wives  be  grave ;  not  slan- 
derers, sober,  faithful  in  all  things.  Let  the 
deacons  be  the  husbands  of  one  wife,  ruling 
their  children  and  their  own  houses  well. 
For  they  that  have  used  the  office  of  a  deacon 
well,  purchase  to  themselves  a  good  degree, 
and  great  boldness  in  the  faith,  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus." 

And  here  can  I  avoid  remarking  what  you 
must  all  have  observed,  the  invariable  con- 
stancy of  his  attendance  on  the  means  of 
grace  ?  This  is  the  way  to  prosper.  "  The 
hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich.  Blessed  is 
the  man  that  heareth  me,  says  wisdom,  watch- 
ing early  at  my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts 
of  my  doors."  The  religion  of  those  who  can 
wholly  or  partially  forsake  the  assembling  of 
themselves  together,  must  not  only  be  in  a 
very  low,  but  a  very  doubtful  state.  "  In  all 
places,"  says  God,  "  where  I  record  my  name, 
I  will  come  unto  thee,  and  I  will  bless  thee ;" 
but  his  presence  and  his  benediction  they 
deem  it  not  worth  their  while  to  put  them- 
selves to  the  least  inconvenience  to  enjoy. 
He  was  as  regularly  in  his  pew,  as  the 
preacher  in  his  pulpit,  considering  the  duty 
of  pastor  and  people  to  be  mutual ;  and  know- 
ing that  the  conduct  of  an  officer  in  the  house 
of  God,  is  more  observed  and  exemplary  than 
that  of  a  private  member.  The  week-day 
services  were  always  attended  by  him  as 
well  as  the  sabbatical;  for  he  delighted  in 
them,  and  found  them  necessary  to  refresh 
and  enliven  his  mind  in  the  things  of  God 
among  the  vexing  and  deadening  cares  of  the 
world.  All  the  visits  he  paid  or  received 
were  regulated  with  a  view  to  his  religious 
opportunities,  and  never  interrupted  them. 
Nor  was  he  like  some  who  are  laid  up  and 
confined  on  the  Sunday,  yet  abroad,  in  any 
weather,  in  their  own  affairs,  on  the  Monday : 
for  the  Sabbath  is  a  very  healing  day  with 
them.  How  often  has  he  been  here,  when, 
like  his  minister,  (forgive  me  this  wrong,) 
pain  and  indisposition  would  have  justified 
absence.  No,  he  could  not  question  his  at- 
tachment to  the  sanctuary ;  and  therefore  he 
said,  with  a  peculiar  emphasis  and  confidence 
in  him ;  "  I  have  loved  the  habitation  of  thy 
house,  and  the  place  where  thine  honour 
dwelleth." 

I  could  enlarge ;  for  out  of  the  abundance 


of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh.  But  I  have 
already  far  exceeded  your  time,  and  can  only 
justify  the  length  of  the  service  by  a  liict  we 
all  feel,  that  such  an  occasion  and  such  a 
character  do  not  often  come  before  us. 

Well  he  loved  the  temple  below,  and  is 
now  in  the  temple  above,  never  more  to  go 
out.  He  loved  the  Sabbath,  and  on  the  morn- 
ing of  that  sacred  day,  he  entered  the  Sab- 
bath that  remains  for  all  the  people  of  God. 
He  loved  the  praises  of  Israel,  and  now  he  ia 
singing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 
"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 

HIM." 

What  shall  I  say  to  this  bereaved  family  1 
I  am  far  from  wishing  to  diminish  your  loss; 
but  you  must,  yes,  you  must  be  thankful — 
that  he  has  not  been  suddenly  snatched  from 
you,  but  after  various  intimations  to  prepare 
you  for  it,  and  in  a  mariner  the  most  gradual 
and  gentle — that  he  has  not  been  prematurely 
removed,  but  in  a  good  old  age,  like  a  shock 
of  corn  fully  ripe  in  his  season — that  he  has 
not  left  you  in  embarrassed  or  contracted  cir- 
cumstances, but  having  all  things  richly  to 
enjoy,  and  possessing  the  means  of  doing 
good — that  you  are  not  sorrowing  as  those 
who  have  no  hope,  assured  that,  absent  from 
the  body,  he  is  present  with  the  Lord. 

You,  the  long  and  faithful  and  affectionate 
wife  of  his  bosom,  in  whom  his  heart  so  per- 
fectly reposed ;  you,  I  know  from  your  dis- 
position, as  well  as  years,  will  be,  "a  widow 
indeed,  desolate  and  trusting  in  God,  and 
continuing  in  prayer  night  and  day" — and 
prayer  will  bring  you  the  relief,  the  comfort, 
the  grace,  every  remaining  duty  and  trial 
will  require,  during  the  diminished  period  of 
your  separation. 

My  young  friends  ;  "  a  good  man,"  says 
Solomon,  "  leaveth  an  inheritance  to  his  chil- 
dren ;  an  inheritance  better  than  thousands 
of  gold  and  silver:" — his  example,  his  in- 
structions, the  prayers  he  offered,  and  which 
are  had  in  remembrance  before  God,  and  the 
special  blessing  of  divine  Providence.  For 
God  acts  upon  the  principles  of  the  truest 
friendship;  and  as  David  asked,  "  Is  there  any 
left  of  the  house  of  Saul,  that  I  may  show 
him  kindness  for  Jonathan's  sake,"  so  "the 
generation  of  the  upright  shall  be  blessed." 
Indeed,  whatever  advantages  you  derive  from 
the  deceased,  you  could  not  be  saved  by  his 
religion.  He  could  not  exercise  repentance 
towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  for  you.  Godliness  is  a  per- 
sonal thing — you  must  be  made  partakers  of 
the  same  grace,  and  be  made  wise  for  your- 
selves. And  blessed  be  God,  you  have  chosen 
that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away 
from  you.  He  is  therefore,  if  not  watching 
over  you  now,  yet  waiting  to  receive  you  into 
everlasting  habitations.  Be  concerned  to  per- 
petuate him  by  spiritual  descent.  Let  there 
be  no  contrast  ever  complained  of  between 


284 


FRIENDSHIP  IN  DEATH. 


the  father  and  the  children.  Let  not  the 
cause  of  God,  or  of  the  poor,  .write  Icabod  on 
the  door ;  or  passengers  shake  the  head  and 
say,  "the  glory  of  that  house  is  departed." 
Catch  his  mantle.  Imbibe  his  spirit.  Main- 
tain the  principles  and  the  conduct,  the  piety, 
and  the  benevolence,  and  the  hospitality, 
which  cause  the  memory  of  your  just  father 
to  be  blessed. 

With  Him  who  has  made  this  breach 
among  us,  is  the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  Let 
us  pray  that  by  the  conversion  of  some,  and 
the  increased  zeal  of  others,  the  loss  made  by 
this  removal  may  be  repaired.  And  with  re- 
gard to  ourselves,  individually,  let  us  resolve 
not  to  "be  slothful,  but  followers  of  them 
who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the 
promises." 

To  conclude.  I  ask  you  all,  my  dear  hear- 
ers, with  whom  do  you  wish  to  die"!  With 
Lazarus?  If  so,  you  must  live  with  him.  He 
died  as  he  lived ;  and  our  friend  died  as  he 
lived.  I  have  little  opinion  of  a  death-bed 
religion.  It  is  a  bad  time  in  which  to  attend 
to  the  things  which  belong  to  your  everlast- 
ing peace.  True  repentance  is,  indeed,  ne- 
ver too  late;  but  late  repentance  is  seldom 


true ;  and  when  it  is  true,  how  can  it  be  evi- 
denced either  to  the  individual  himself,  or  to 
others?  It  must,  and  it  ought  to  remain, 
doubtful. 

Your  desire,  therefore,  is  nothing,  unless  it 
leads  you  to  wish  to  live  with  the  people  of 
God,  as  well  as  to  die  with  them.  But  if  you 
love  them ;  if  you  delight  in  them  as  the  ex- 
cellent of  the  earth ;  if  you  make  them  your 
examples  and  companions;  if  you  take  hold 
of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a  Jew,  saying,  "I 
will  go  with  you,  for  I  have  heard  that  God 
is  with  you ;"  if  you  run  the  same  race,  look- 
ing unto  Jesus :  then  at  death,  "  being  let  go," 
you  shall  go  "to  your  own  company,"  and 
"sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Ja- 
cob, in  the  kingdom  of  God."  Yea,  "you  are 
come  unto  Mount  Zion,  and  unto  the  city  of 
the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and 
to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels ;  to  the 
general  assembly,  and  church  of  the  first- 
born which  are  written  in  heaven;  and  to 
God  the  Judge  of  all ;  and  to  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect ;  and  to  Jesus  the  mediator 
of  the  new  covenant;  and  to  the  blood  of 
sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than 
that  of  Abel."  Amen. 


A  CHARGE 


INTENDED  TO  HAVE  BEEN  ADDRESSED 


TO  THE  WIFE  OF  A  MINISTER, 


AT  THE 


ORDINATION  OF  HER  HUSBAND, 


BY  WILLIAM  JAY 


"Our  conditions  are  the  best  preceptors  of  our  duties."— Bdrke. 
"Give  her  of  the  fruit  of  her  hand :  and  let  her  own  works  praise  her  in  the  gates."— Solomon. 


PREFACE. 

As  there  is  nothing  in  creation,  that  so  powerfully  engages  our  attention,  attracts  our  in- 
clinations, refines  our  manners,  exalts  our  character,  and  secures  our  happiness,  as  the  other 
sex — the  sharers  of  our  very  nature,  and  the  partners  of  our  lives — we  need  not  wonder  that 
authors  have  so  frequently  noticed  them.  But  while  physicians,  and  historians,  and  philoso- 
phers, and  poets,  have  paid  these  claimants  attention — not  always  in  the  most  deserving  and 
profitable  way — it  may  seem  strange  that  preachers  so  rarely  make  them  distinctively  the 
objects  of  their  address. 

Two  reasons  perhaps  may  be  assigned  for  this.  The  one  is,  that  in  their  ministry,  re- 
gardless of  every  subordinate  difference,  they  have  principally  to  do,  with  those  who  are  be- 
fore them,  in  the  quality  of  fallen  and  recoverable  creatures ;  whose  grand  concern  is  to  be 
excited  to  "  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  Him" — "  where  there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
bond  nor  free,  male  nor  female ;  for  we  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  The  other  is,  the 
danger  of  misapprehended  motive.  Women  generally  deserve  more  commendation  and 
praise  than  men ;  and  commendation  and  praise  are  much  more  likely  to  improve,  than  re- 
flection and  censure,  where  the  disposition  is  tender  and  ingenuous.  But  in  applying  these 
peculiarly  to  their  female  hearers,  complaisance  may  be  supposed  to  disarm  fidelity  ;  and 
approbation  may  be  construed  into  compliment.  And  nothing  would  be  so  unworthy  a  pub- 
lic teacher,  as  to  "  have  the  faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  glory,  with  respect 
to  persons."  Here,  however,  the  Author  has,  in  more  instances  than  one,  trusted  his  credit 
in  following  his  conviction.    But  where  is  he  now 1 

My  reader  : — You  need  not  inquire  after — the  time — the  place — the  intended  receiver 
of  this  address — or  the  circumstances  that  prevented  the  delivery  of  it.  Suffice  it  to  ob- 
serve, that  the  title  is  founded  in  truth.  The  case  was  this.  At  our  ordinations,  after  the 
confession  of  faith,  and  prayer  for  the  Divine  influence  and  blessing  to  attend  the  union  that 
has  been  publicly  recognised  between  the  pastor  and  the  church,  it  has  been  always  custom- 
ary to  address  to  each  of  the  parties  a  Charge,  containing  suitable  instructions,  cautions, 
admonitions,  and  encouragements,  with  regard  to  their  respective  duties.  Nothing  can  be 
more  scriptural  or  proper  than  such  an  usage:  and  nothing  will  be  found  more  interesting 
and  edifying,  when  it  is  not  eked  out  in  dull  formality,  and  prolonged  reiterations  of  same- 
ness ;  but  is  performed  in  the  spirit  and  unction  of  the  service. 

285 


280 


PREFACE. 


But  the  writer  had  often  thought,  that  if  on  these  occasions  a  Charge  could  be  likewise 
addressed  to  another  personage,  it  would  be,  if  not  equally  necessary,  yet  truly  important. 
The  wife  of  the  preacher  is  indeed,  as  his  nearest  relation,  interested  in  all  that  is  said  to 
him :  and,  as  a  fellow-member  with  his  people,  she  is  also  concerned  in  all  that  is  spoken  to 
them.  Yet  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  there  is,  with  regard  to  her,  an  individuality  of 
character,  and  a  peculiarity  of  condition,  requiring  and  justifying  something  more  than 
general  and  indiscriminate  address.  And  the  writer  has  always  been  persuaded,  that  one 
of  the  failures  in  ministerial  labour  has  been  owing  to  the  neglect  of  detail  and  specification, 
in  the  enforcement  of  moral  topics.  If  personal  reflection  be  avoided — and  it  would  be  base 
to  indulge  in  this — practical  exemplification  cannot  be  too  frequent  or  too  particular.  "  The 
words  of  the  wise"  could  not  be  as  "goads  and  nails,"  if  they  were  obtuse.  What  pierces 
must  be  pointed.  What  affects  must  be  individually  appropriate.  The  self-application  peo- 
ple try  to  elude,  must  be  rendered  difficult,  impossible.  Conscience  must  be  induced  to  say, 
"  Thou  art  the  man ;"  and  the  hearer,  "  convinced  of  all,  judged  of  all,  and  feeling  the  secrets 
of  his  heart  made  manifest,  report  that  God  is  in  them  of  a  truth."  What  are  curious  dis- 
tinctions, abstruse  reasonings,  metaphysical  subtleties,  and  general  declamations,  where,  as 
Bacon  says,  the  preacher  should  bring  home  the  subject  to  every  man's  business  and  bosom ; 
or,  like  Paul,  "  warn  every  man,  and  teach  every  man,  in  all  wisdom  ;  that  he  may  present 
every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus."  "  If,"  says  God,  "  thou  take  forth  the  precious  from 
the  vile,  thou  shalt  be  as  my  mouth."  And  how  is  this  to  be  done  1  How  are  we  to  speak 
as  he  speaks  1  but  by  clear  delineations  of  character  ]  just  appropriations  of  promises  and 
threateningsl  wise  and  exciting  applications  of  censure  and  commendation  1 

The  wife  of  a  minister  is  in  a  situation  distinguished,  observable,  and  influential.  How 
much  depends  upon  her  principles,  temper,  taste,  and  behaviour!  How  various,  delicate, 
and  arduous  are  the  duties  she  has  to  discharge !  How  much  grace  and  wisdom  are  neces- 
sary to  fill  the  circle  of  her  vocation,  usefully  and  honourably ! — And  yet  the  place  she  is 
called  to  preside  in,  cannot  be  distinctly  and  expressly  prepared  for,  by  any  course  of  previ- 
ous discipline.  Though  the  age  abounds  with  every  kind  of  institution ;  no  seminary,  as  yet, 
has  been  founded  for  training  up  female  probationers  for  the  Levitical  economy;  though  they 
are  supposed  to  be,  either  from  the  love  of  distinction,  or  the  desire  of  usefulness,  not  a  few. 
The  more  needful  is  something  like  the  ensuing  endeavour.  In  making  it,  the  Author  has 
also  the  sanction  of  the  Apostle's  example.  He  deemed  it  necessary,  not  only  to  describe 
the  attributes  of  approved  Deacons  and  Bishops,  but  also  of  their  wives — "  Even  so  must 
their  wives  be  grave ;  not  slanderers ;  sober ;  faithful  in  all  things." 

There  is  one  very  important  point  of  light  in  which  the  relation,  here  noticed,  is  to  be 
viewed.  In  former  times,  which  we  should  do  well  to  call  to  remembrance,  the  ministry 
often  descended.  Many  of  the  ablest  servants  of  God,  whose  works  praise  them  in  the  gates, 
were  of  hallowed  extraction.  In  the  Non-Conformist  Memorial,  how  many  do  we  find  be- 
sides Philip  Henry,  of  whom  it  was  said,  "Instead  of  the  fathers  shall  be  the  children."  Our 
own  day  also  furnishes  examples  to  which  it  would  be  pleasing  to  allude,  if  delicacy  did  not 
forbid.  And  families  will  increasingly  replenish,  not  only  the  Church,  but  the  pulpit — as 
the  wives  of  ministers  "  are  nursing  mothers,"  and  are  "  fellow-helpers  to  the  truth." — If, 
after  all,  some  may  think  the  following  address  too  restrictive  to  justify  publication;  let  it 
be,  in  fairness,  observed,  that  besides  the  individuals  here  specifically  regarded,  much,  in  the 
remarks,  will  apply  to  other  wives;  and,  that  while  pursuing  a  particular  object,  the  course 
furnished  an  opportunity  to  throw  out  many  collateral  hints  that  may  be  serviceable  to  other 
parties — not  to  say  ministers  themselves. 

The  conditions  of  wives  differ  considerably  with  regard  to  worldly  things ;  and  the  ad- 
monisher  could  not  accommodate  himself  to  every  individuality  in  the  gradations.  His  aim, 
therefore,  has  been  taken  neither  from  the  highest  or  the  lowest  rank;  but  from  the  middle 
degree — below  affluence,  and — above  mean  dependence.  This  is  perhaps  the  most  eligible 
estate  for  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel.  So  thought  the  Prophet  of  the  Lord,  the  wise  and 
pious  Agar — "  Remove  from  me  vanity  and  lies.  Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches.  Feed 
me  with  food  convenient  for  me :  lest  I  be  full,  and  deny  Thee,  and  say,  who  is  the  Lord  ? 
or  lest  I  be  poor,  and  steal,  and  take  the  name  of  my  God  in  vain." 

Before  the  writer  was  diverted  from  his  purpose,  it  was  not  his  design  to  have  given  the 
Charge  at  the  same  time  with  the  other  two  addresses — as  the  service  already  is  weari- 
somely long :  but  the  morning  after  the  ordination ;  and  while  the  impression  of  the  so- 
lemnity would  be  yet  remaining. 

Nor  would  he  have  delivered  it  in  the  public  assembly — for  where  females  are  concern- 
ed, publicity  is  not  to  be  sought  after — but  in  the  pastor's  own  dwelling. 

From  the  singleness  of  the  service,  the  speaker  could  afford  to  be  longer  in  his  admonition 
than  propriety  would  otherwise  have  allowed. 

From  the  private  nature  of  the  engagement,  he  felt  himself  the  more  free  from  anxiety 
and  restraint. 


PREFACE. 


287 


From  the  quality  of  the  individual  addressed,  the  mode  of  address  itself  was  in  some  mea- 
sure influenced.  Females  love  facts  and  incidents  rather  than  discussions;  illustrations, 
rather  than  arguments ;  imagery,  rather  than  abstractness ;  sententiousness,  rather  than  dif- 
fusion :  and  though  they  are  capable  of  thinking  as  well  as  the  other  sex,  their  thinking  is 
more  tempered  by  feeling ;  and  they  love  thoughts  when  they  are  sentiments,  rather  than 
notions.  Do  we  mean  to  censure  this  taste  1  It  has  one  incomparable  recommendation — it 
is  the  manner  in  which  the  Scriptures  are  written ;  and  where  God  has  abounded  towards 
us  in  all  wisdom  and  prudence. 

Imagine  then  a  preacher  of  some  age,  observation,  and  experience — and  in  the  subject 
before  him,  of  no  little  happy  experience — imagine  such  a  man  rising  and  addressing  his 
interesting  auditress — while  her  husband,  and  the  wives  of  several  neighbouring  ministers, 
are  present — in  the  form  and  manner  following  

Bath ;  December  1st,  1829. 


THE  CHARGE. 


Jl  prudent  -wife  is  from  the  Lord. 
Prov.  xix.  14. 

My  esteemed  friend  and  sister: — As 
this  peculiar  service  did  not  arise  in  the 
preacher  from  affectation,  or  a  wish  to  excite 
notice  and  remark ;  so  he  is  persuaded  your 
ready  compliance  with  the  proposal  of  it,  has 
been  only  the  result  of  a  concern  how  to  please 
the  Lord,  whose  Providence  has  called  you 
to  occupy  the  station  you  are  now  filling.  He 
therefore  most  willingly  engages  in  it,  and 
hopes  that  the  example,  at  least  as  to  its  spi- 
rit, will  be  hereafter  followed.  Yet  he  feels 
solicitude;  and  as  the  effort  is  novel  and  pro- 
bationary, he  is  not  a  little  concerned  for  the 
goodness  of  the  precedent.  He  fears  nothing, 
indeed,  from  mere  human  opinion :  he  never 
would  enter  on  any  religious  engagement 
unless  he  was  at  liberty  to  obey  all  the  dic- 
tates of  his  conviction.  While  therefore,  on 
the  one  hand,  he  will  not  seek  to  give  pain  or 
offence ;  on  the  other,  he  is  bound  to  shun 
every  appearance  of  adulation.  How  strange 
that  persons  should  ever  dare  to  pander  to 
the  appetite  of  vanity,  in  holy  exercises,  and 
under  the  immediate  eye  of  God ;  instead  of 
being  raised  into  a  dignified  independence 
of  mind,  by  feeling  the  sentiment  of  Elihu — 
"  I  know  not  to  give  flattering  titles :  in  so 
doing,  my  Maker  would  take  me  away." 

But  as  ignorance  is  not  necessary  to  hu- 
mility, so  neither  is  it  flattery  to  remind  peo- 
ple of  their  real  and  relative  importance,  in 
order  to  make  them  sensible  of  their  respon- 
sibilities, and  anxious  to  discharge  their  obli- 
gations. 

We  rejoice  that  your  sex  is  elevated  to  its 
proper  rank  in  the  community.  In  barbarous 
ages,  and  in  all  savage  countries,  it  never 
rose  to  any  of  the  dignities  and  rights  of  so- 
cial, rational,  and  immortal  beings.  Some  phi- 
losophers have  strangely  argued,  whether 
men  have  been  improved  by  the  progress  of 
civilization,  and  advancement  of  the  arts  and 
sciences :  but  no  one  can  deny  that  women 
owe  much,  for  a  happy  change  in  their  con- 
dition, to  the  prevalence  of  knowledge  and 
polished  life.  Yet  what  were  the  daughters 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  compared  with  the 
daughters  of  Zion  1  What  did  even  chivalry 
accomplish  for  the  objects  of  its  enthusiasm, 
compared  with  the  benefits  the  female  race 
have  derived  from  the  doctrine  and  spirit  of 
Christianity  1  It  is  the  religion  of  Jesus,  that, 
far  beyond  every  human  institution,  has,  for 
you,  softened  the  manners  of  the  multitude, 


and  subdued  the  fierceness  and  tyranny  of 
physical  power  and  dominion.  It  is  this,  that 
has  delivered  you  from  the  discords  and 
wretchedness  of  polygamy  and  divorce.  It 
is  this,  that,  instead  of  degrading  you  as  the 
slaves,  or  seducers  of  the  other  sex,  leads  us 
to  regard  you  as  our  companions,  our  friends, 
our  sisters;  the  fellow-heirs  of  the  grace  of 
life;  the  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty. 
The  light  that  has  been  shed  upon  your  true 
destination  and  worth,  will  prevent  their  ever 
being  concealed  or  denied  in  future.  It  is 
now  too  late  to  controvert  the  claims  which 
are  so  justly  your  due ;  or  refuse  to  acknow- 
ledge that — you  must  have — that  you  ought 
to  have — that  you  are  designed  to  have,  a 
great  influence  in  the  relations  and  interests 
of  society. 

Yet  the  manner  in  which  this  influence  is 
to  be  most  properly  and  advantageously  ex- 
erted and  employed,  is  not  only  a  question  of 
wisdom,  but,  as  far  as  the  mind  of  God  is 
made  known  concerning  it,  a  matter  of  abso- 
lute submission.  The  ground  of  moral  duty 
is  the  same  with  regard  to  all ;  but  the  exem- 
plification of  the  principle  must  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  connexions  and  circumstances  of 
individuals.  And  therefore  I  need  not  say, 
that  you  are  expressly  forbidden  to  occupy 
the  office  of  your  husband,  and  publicly  teach 
in  the  Church.  This  prohibition  will  not  sur- 
prise or  offend  any  one  who  reflects,  that  God 
has  a  right  to  order  all  affairs  in  his  own 
house ;  and  that  none  of  his  decisions  are  ar- 
bitrary. We  judge  from  very  limited  views 
of  things;  and  in  no  case  can  we  infallibly 
determine  what  may  be  best,  eventually,  and 
upon  the  whole.  But  his  understanding  is 
infinite;  and  his  judgment  is  always  accord- 
ing to  truth. 

Regulation  is  not  degradation.  God  him- 
self is  the  grand  example  of  order.  He  who 
is  above  all,  submits  to  rule.  He  does — not 
what  he  would — but  what  he  ought ;  or,  as 
his  word  expresses  it,  "  what  becomes  him ;" 
what  "  behoveth  him ;"  what  "  seemeth  good 
in  his  sight." 

Services  uncalled  of  God,  are  unacceptable 
to  him :  he  may  pardon  them,  but  he  cannot 
reward  them.  The  result  of  maintaining  the 
laws  of  order  and  decorum,  is  more  important 
to  the  welfare  of  society,  than  a  few  instances 
of  usefulness  arising  from  the  violation  of 
them ;  and  which  are  more  noticed  because 
they  stand  out  to  observation ;  and  are  com- 
monly magnified  above  their  real  desert,  in 
288 


THE  CHARGE. 


289 


consequence  of  their  specious  and  immediate 
effect.  There  is  danger  too,  that  when  per- 
sons have  once  broken  their  rank,  and  have 
enjoyed  the  sweetness  of  notice  and  applause, 
they  will  never  subside  into  entire  regularity 
again.  Your  husband  would  have  run  no 
little  risk,  had  he,  in  the  election  of  a  wife, 
made  choice  of  an  expositor  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, whether  in  public,  or  even  in  the  social 
circle.  Some  of  the  same  disposition  would 
probably  have  been  left  still  working  the  same 
way :  as  we  too  often  see  in  those  individu- 
als in  our  churches  who  become  occasional 
preachers;  they  seldom  feel  again  as  mere 
members;  and  are  the  most  dissatisfied  and 
trying  hearers  with  whom  their  pastors  have 
to  deal. 

Limitation  is  not  obstruction.  It  confines 
indeed ;  but  it  is  the  confinement  of  direction, 
not  of  hindrance.  It  does  not  oppose,  but 
guide.  It  resembles  the  banks  of  a  river, 
which,  not  keeping  the  stream  back,  but  only 
keeping  it  in,  invite  and  aid  along  its  course ; 
while  the  current  pursues  the  noiseless  tenor 
of  its  way — even — and — clear — reflecting  the 
sky, — and  refreshing  and  adorning  the  earth. 
How  much  better  is  this,  than  the  turbid  li- 
centiousness of  the  flood,  though  it  may  make 
a  greater  show,  and  a  greater  noise;  and 
draw  more  gazers  to  its  spreading,  wild,  and 
dangerous  invasions. 

The  Greeks  did  not  permit  the  men  to 
have  much  intercourse  with  female  society, 
unless  they  were  related ;  and  the  Asiatics 
laid  upon  their  women  yet  greater  restraints. 
Hence,  as  Christian  churches  were  first 
formed  in  Greece  and  Asia,  it  might  have 
been  inferred,  that  such  females  as  wanted 
other  instruction  than  was  given  in  the  public 
assemblies,  must  have  received  it  in  private, 
from  some  of  their  own  sex ;  and  that  from 
them  also,  woman  in  penury,  distress,  and 
confinement,  must  have  received  visits  of  suc- 
cour and  comfort.  Accordingly  we  find  fe- 
males, eligible  from  their  knowledge,  experi- 
ence, discretion,  and  age  were  appointed  for 
these  purposes.  They  are  often  referred  to 
in  the  Epistles.  Paul  speaks  of  those  "  wo- 
men that  laboured  with  him  in  the  gospel." 
In  the  earlier  periods  of  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory, we  perceive  women  having  some  offices 
analagous  to  those  of  the  men.  But  they 
were  of  a  private  nature.  Our  brethren,  the 
Moravians,  retain  some  functions  of  this  kind ; 
and  we  believe  no  man,  among  them,  can  be 
a  pastor  who  is  unmarried ;  as  there  are  ser- 
vices required  of  the  wife,  as  well  as  of  the 
husband.  But  none  of  them  are  consonant 
with  the  public  ministration  of  the  word. 
How  far  any  appointments  of  a  similar  order 
might  be  profitably  established  in  our  church- 
es, it  would  not  be  perhaps  improper  to  in- 
quire. 

But  we  are  not  going  at  present  to  attempt 
any  new  schemes.    We  deem  it  preferable 
2  0  25 


to  take  things  as  they  are ;  and  endeavour 
to  improve  what  is  practicable ;  rather  than 
to  deal  in  what  is  speculative.  We  therefore 
say,  that  without  the  assumption  of  office ; 
and  without  leaving  the  sphere  of  engage- 
ment suited  to  your  sex  and  station  ;  you  may, 
in  an  eminent  degree,  serve  your  own  gener- 
ation by  the  will  of  God.  Let  me  freely  de- 
velope  and  enforce  what  I  should  deem  ne- 
cessar}'  to  your  securing  so  desirable  an  at- 
tainment. 

I  presume  on  your  personal  religion.  It  is 
said  of  Zachariah  and  Elisabeth,  that  "  they 
were  both  righteous  before  God,  walking  in 
all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the 
Lord  blameless."  If  a  Christian  is  to  "  marry 
only  in  the  Lord,"  how  indispensable  is  this 
requisition  to  a  minister.  If  he  sets  at  nought 
the  divine  precaution,  he  not  only  by  his  ex- 
ample justifies  others  in  forming  unhallowed 
connexions,  but  his  own  wickedness  will  cor- 
rect him  ;  and  he  will  be  made  to  feel,  in  the 
natural  consequences  as  well  as  in  the  penal 
rebuke,  what  an  evil  and  bitter  thing  it  is  to 
forsake  the  fear  of  the  Almighty.  His  case 
indeed  is  to  be  pitied,  should  he  have  been 
imposed  upon  after  serious  and  candid  exami- 
nation. And  there  have  been  wives  who  have 
made  pretensions,  to  gain  the  upright,  who  are 
always  the  most  unsuspecting.  And  when 
the  mask  has  been  afterwards  thrown  aside, 
what  an  astounding  discovery  has  it  been  to 
the  deceived,  and  what  a  degradation  to  the 
deceiver !  And  when  the  disguise  has  con- 
tinued, what  a  wretched  constraint  has  been 
necessary  to  keep  up  appearances  !  And  what 
irksomeness  has  been  endured  in  being  so 
often  engaged  in  the  exercises  of  unfelt  de- 
votion !  And  what  excuses  have  been  made 
for  omitting  duties,  against  the  drudgery  of 
which  the  alienated  heart  has  revolted  !  And 
what  can  be  more  likely  to  impair  conscience, 
and  to  produce  impenitence,  than  "  lying 
against  the  Holy  Ghost?"  "And  what  is 
the  hope  of  the  hypocrite,  though  she  hath 
gained,  when  God  taketh  away  her  soul  ?" 
"  But  we  are  persuaded  better  things  of  you, 
and  things  that  accompany  salvation,  though 
we  thus  speak." 

Yet,  though,  in  your  case,  the  reality  of 
godliness  be  indispensable,  it  is  not  sufficient. 
Every  thing  in  the  claims  of  your  calling  re- 
quires— not  only  that  you  should  fear  God, 
but  that  you  should  fear  God  above  many — 
not  only  that  you  should  know  the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,  but  be  filled  with  the  know- 
ledge of  his  will  in  all  wisdom  and  spiritual 
understanding — not  only  that  you  should  be 
sincere  and  without  offence,  until  the  day  of 
Christ,  but  be  thoroughly  furnished  unto  all 
good  works. 

Here  let  me  speak  of  your  deportment — 

With  regard  to  them  that  are  without. 

With  regard  to  other  religious  par- 
ties. 


290 


THE  CHARGE. 


With  regard  to  your  own  church  and  con- 
gregation. 

With  regard  to  your  family. 

With  regard  to  your  husband. 

First,  with  regard  to  them  that  are  with- 
out. Of  these  your  husband  is  to  have  a 
"  good  report,  lest  he  fall  into  reproach  and 
the  snare  of  the  devil."  It  must  be  the  same 
with  you :  for  though  less  conspicuous  than 
himself,  you  will  not  escape  observation. 

You  are  required  to  be  firm  and  decided. 
You  must  keep  your  high  and  holy  ground, 
and  not  be  drawn  down  into  the  course  of 
this  world.  If  you  comply  with  their  wishes, 
and  conform  to  their  maxims  and  manners, 
they  may  like  you  more,  but  they  will  esteem 
you  less.  It  is  by  your  consistency  that  you 
are  to  strike  and  impress  others.  They  will 
not  regard,  what  they  see  you  make  light  of 
yourselves :  and  surely  you  cannot  evince 
the  importance  you  attach  to  the  truths  you 
profess,  by  owning  them  at  one  time,  and  be- 
ing ashamed  of  them  at  another,  according  to 
the  place  and  company  in  which  you  are 
found :  but  only  by  the  constancy  of  your  ad- 
herence to  them,  and  the  sacrifices  you  are 
ready  to  make  in  their  defence. 

Yet  tenderness  must  be  connected  with 
decision,  both  to  qualify  it,  and  to  prove  the 
source  from  which  it  results — that  it  is  not 
the  offspring  of  obstinacy,  but  principle  ;  that 
it  is  not  self-will,  but  a  regard  to  the  will  of 
God ;  that  it  is  not  prejudice,  but  enlightened 
conviction.  Whoever  in  this  cause  contends 
earnestly,  must  yet  strive  lawfully.  A  Polemic 
of  your  sex  is  rarely  desirable.  A  theologi- 
cal Joan  of  Arc  we  would  rather  decline  al- 
together. The  Amazons  of  orthodoxy,  as 
those  of  old,  may  amputate  the  breast,  the 
better  to  draw  the  bow  :  but  we  prefer  their 
feeling  to  their  fierceness;  and  their  charms 
to  their  courage.  They  are  not  only  most 
lovely,  but  most  efficient,  when  unarmed, 
and  attired  in  the  meekness  and  gentleness 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

In  your  social  intercourse,  be  careful  to 
unite  discretion  with  integrity.  Be  concerned 
not  only  to  maintain  your  reputation,  but  the 
honour  of  your  religion.  Do  not  imagine  that 
truth  is  an  altar  that  sanctifies  every  offering. 
Plead  for  no  doctrine  in  an  uncharitable 
temper.  Christian  faithfulness  does  not  re- 
quire ill-nature;  and  gains  nothing  by  ill- 
breeding.  It  is  a  poor  way  of  usefulness,  to 
lose  all  future  opportunities  of  doing  good  to 
your  fellow-creatures,  by  driving  them  away 
from  your  presence,  or  hardening  their  minds 
against  you.  Yet  how  often  is  this  done  by 
the  haughtiness  of  reproof!  or  the  violence 
of  controversy !  or  the  rancour  of  party  zeal ! 

Treat  no  one  with  rudeness  or  neglect. 
Shun  the  spirit  of  the  Pharisee,  trusting  in 
himself  that  he  is  righteous,  and  despising 
others — "  Stand  by  thyself ;  come  not  near  to 
me ;  I  am  holier  than  thou."   Mixing  with 


company  prevents  the  appearance  and  suspi- 
cion of  unamiableness ;  and  has  the  effect  of 
promoting  good  neighbourhood,  and  general 
good  will.  Remember  that  what  gentility 
would  require  of  you  as  an  accomplishment 
Christianity  enjoins  upon  you  as  a  virtue . 
and  what  a  woman  of  good  breeding  receive* 
from  education,  you  are  to  derive  from  reli- 
gion ;  and  what  is  only  in  the  people  of  the 
world  the  hollowness  of  ceremony,  is  to  be 
in  you  the  reality  of  principle.  "  Politeness," 
says  lord  Chatham,  "  is  benevolence  in  little 
things."  It  consists  in  general  attention ;  in 
doing  civil  offices,  and  using  kind  words  to 
all ;  in  keeping  every  offensive  subject  out  of 
view ;  in  never  obtruding  your  own  partiali- 
ties ;  but  always  minutely  regarding  the 
wishes  of  others;  in  accommodating  your- 
selves as  much  as  you  innocently  can,  to  their 
habits  and  tastes;  in  forgetting  yourselves, 
and  obliging  every  one  about  you.  And  what 
says  the  Scripture  1  "  Let  every  one  of  us 
please  his  neighbour  for  his  good  to  edifica- 
tion." This  is  the  way  to  adorn  the  doctrine 
of  God  our  Saviour ;  and  to  render  the  gos- 
pel not  only  impressive,  but  attractive.  This 
is  the  way  to  walk  in  wisdom  towards  them 
that  are  without,  so  as  to  remove  their  preju- 
dices, and  bring  them  over  to  your  cause — and 
"  he  that  winneth  souls,  is  wise." 

Be  kind  and  merciful,  as  well  as  obliging. 
Always  regard  the  afflicted.  The  hour  of 
trouble  is  a  season  of  moral  impressiveness  : 
the  heart  is  then  more  serious  and  more  soft. 
While  the  daughters  of  vanity  and  dissipa- 
tion turn  away  from  the  abodes  of  penury 
and  wo ;  be  you  a  little  image  of  him  who  is 
a  very  present  help  in  trouble.  When  Mr. 
Howard  presented  his  wife  with  a  purse  of 
one  hundred  guineas  to  enable  her  to  take  a 
summer's  excursion :  "  what  a  pretty  cot- 
tage," said  she,  "  will  this  build  for  a  poor 
family  !"  How  much  more  pure,  and  satisfy- 
ing, and  durable,  was  the  pleasure  the  sight 
of  this  little  temple  of  charity  afforded  her, 
than  what  she  could  have  derived  from  a 
visit  to  a  watering-place  !  It  was  a  common 
saying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  who,  from  experi- 
ence, knew  the  deliciousness  infinitely  better 
than  any  other  being :  "  It  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive."  It  is  to  be  lamented, 
that  many  in  your  station  have  it  so  little  in 
their  power  to  gratify  their  benevolence :  but 
whatever  resources  your  husband  commands, 
he  will  readily  allow  you  a  share  of  the  plea- 
sure and  honour  arising  from  the  application 
of  them :  and  the  beneficence  which  should 
distinguish  a  minister's  wife,  is  not  confined 
to  alms-givings.  There  are  alms-deeds.  There 
are  numberless  ways  in  which  a  feeling  heart 
can  reach  distress.  When  it  cannot  succour, 
it  can  soothe. 

It  is  important  to  be  able  to  give  advice  to 
the  poor.  They  are  often  thriftless  and 
wasteful,  from  ignorance,  as  much  as  from 


THE  CHARGE. 


291 


negligence.  But  they  may  be  taught  to  make 
a  little  go  a  great  way  ;  and  actual  and  per- 
sonal instruction  may  do  much  more  than 
printed  tracts. 

Some  little  knowledge  also  of  medicine 
wrould  be  always  an  instrument  of  usefulness 
in  female  charity ;  and  none  could  more  ad- 
vantageously use  it  than  a  pastor's  wife. 

Your  sex  are  sometimes  called  angels. 
The  design  has  not  always  been  laudable  : 
and  the  flattery,  it  is  to  be  feared,  has  some- 
times turned  them  into  fallen  angels.  But 
you  may  truly  deserve  the  praise  of  the  title. 
Our  Saviour,  speaking  of  children,  says,  "  De- 
spise not  one  of  these  little  ones,  for  their  an- 
gels do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father 
who  is  in  heaven."  And,  says  Paul,  "  Are 
they  not  all  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to 
minister  unto  them  that  are  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation?" Make  these  beautiful  and  lovely 
creatures  your  models.  A  female  is  never  so 
angelical  as  when  she  adds  to  her  personal 
graces  the  moral  attractions ;  and  displays  the 
tender  heart ;  the  melting  eye  ;  the  soft  hand 
binding  up  the  wounded  spirit ;  and  the  foot 
with  eager  steps  at  the  door  of  misery,  visit- 
ing the  fatherless  and  the  widows  in  their 
affliction. 

Secondly ;  with  regard  to  other  religious 
parties.  You  must  not  judge  of  persons  by 
their  walking  with  you,  in  the  outward  fel- 
lowship of  the  gospel.  They  may  assemble 
in  other  places,  and  belong  to  other  denomi- 
nations, in  which  the  worship  of  the  Spirit  is 
equally  maintained,  and  the  word  of  life  is 
equally  preached  ;  and  be  members  of  the 
one  true  Church  of  the  living  God.  And 
being  such,  you  are  not  at  liberty  to  show  an 
indifference  to  them.  You  must  be  able  to 
say,  "  Grace  be  with  all  them  that  love  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity :"  "  Whosoever 
shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  who  is  in 
heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother,  and  sister, 
and  mother." 

As  your  husband  professes  to  maintain  the 
character  of  a  worker  together  with  all  those 
who  hold  the  same  essential  truth,  though 
they  differ  from  him  in  matters  of  inferior 
moment;  you  should  aim  and  endeavour  to 
cherish  in  him  the  spirit  of  love  and  concord. 
Guard  against  prejudice  and  envy.  Be  not 
offended  or  grieved  at  hearing  the  commen- 
dations and  successes  of  other  ministers,  as  if 
they  eclipsed  the  excellencies,  or  detracted 
from  the  usefulness  of  one  for  whom  it  is 
natural  that  you  should  feel  peculiarly  con- 
cerned. He  that  soweth,  and  he  that  reap- 
eth,  may  rejoice  together.  He  that  planteth, 
and  he  that  watereth,  are  not  enemies  or 
rivals.  The  various  officers  in  an  army,  and 
the  various  builders  in  the  house,  require  and 
aid  each  other. 

When  the  Wesleyan  Methodists  opened  a 
Chapel  at  Painswick,  near  his  own  meeting, 
the  late  excellent  Cornelius  Winter  prayed 


three  times  publicly  the  preceding  Sabbath 
for  their  encouragement  and  success.  When 
Mr.  Hoskins,  of  Bristol,  the  Independent  Mi- 
nister of  Castle-Green,  opened  a  Meeting  in 
Temple  Street ;  what  did  the  incomparable 
Easterbrooke,  the  vicar  of  the  parish !  The 
morning  it  was  opened,  he  was  almost  the 
first  that  entered  it.  He  seated  himself  near 
the  pulpit.  When  the  service  was  over,  he 
met  the  preacher  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and 
shaking  him  with  both  hands,  said  aloud ;  "  I 
thank  you  cordially,  my  dear  brother,  for 
coming  to  my  help — here  is  room  enough  for 
us  both ;  and  work  enough  for  us  both ;  and 
much  more  than  we  can  both  accomplish : 
and  I  hope  the  Lord  will  bless  our  co-opera- 
tion in  this  good  course." 

There  is  too  little  of  this  in  many  neigh- 
bourhoods ;  so  that  if  the  leaders  of  the  seve- 
ral interests  are  not  in  a  state  of  hostility, 
they  are  estranged,  and  shy  of  each  other. 
And  there  is  often,  we  fear,  a  secret  influence 
exerted  very  near  the  throne  ;  and  arising, 
not  from  a  bad  heart,  but  quick  and  feverish 
feeling  ;  that  contributes  to  produce  and  per- 
petuate the  effect. 

A  man  cannot  receive  a  higher  commission 
than  the  ministry  of  the  word  ;  and  such  we 
are  commanded  to  esteem  very  highly  in  love 
for  their  work's  sake.  Their  acceptance  is 
necessary  to  their  usefulness ;  and  their  repu- 
tation is  necessary  to  their  acceptance.  Be- 
ware, therefore,  of  speaking  freely  or  lightly 
of  the  character  and  claims  of  any  of  God's 
servants.  Remember  how  Miriam  erred  in 
her  flippancy,  when,  jealous  of  the  popularity 
of  Moses,  she  endeavoured  to  lower  him  com- 
paratively in  the  estimation  of  the  people. 
God  was  displeased.  The  cloud  removed 
from  the  tabernacle.  And  "  she  became  a 
leper  as  white  as  snow."  And  was  "  asham- 
ed" to  be  seen  abroad  "  for  seven  days." 
Crimes  are  not  immediately  and  visibly  judged 
now,  as  they  were  under  a  former  dispensa- 
tion. And  it  is  well  they  are  not.  If  Miri- 
am's infirmity  was  followed  by  Miriam's  cor- 
rection, we  know  some  handsome  faces,  and 
some  not  very  handsome,  whose  cadaverous 
complexion  would  soon  require  seclusion  and 
concealment ;  while  the  mortified  sufferers 
would  be  grateful  for  the  prayers  of  those 
they  have  laboured  to  supplant  or  depreciate, 
to  restore  them  to  comeliness  and  sight. 
"  Wherefore  then  were  ye  not  afraid  to  speak 
against  my  servant  Moses  1" 

Thirdly ;  with  regard  to  your  own  church 
and  congregation.  Here,  like  your  hus- 
band, you  are  to  be  "  an  example  of  the  be- 
lievers, in  word,  in  conversation,  in  charity, 
in  spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity." 

Never  let  your  behaviour  be  so  reserved, 
as  to  appear  haughty  and  disdainful  towards 
any  of  the  members  or  attendants ;  especially 
any  of  those  in  humbler  life.  A  little  par- 
tiality here,  will  be  sure  to  awaken  the  re- 


292 


THE  CHARGE. 


mark ;  "  The  rich  have  many  friends."  Your 
leaning  should  rather  be  to  the  other  side ; 
not  only  because  it  will  do  more  honour  to 
your  motive,  and  you  will  be  complying  with 
the  injunction,  "  condescend  to  men  of  low 
estate  ;"  but  also  because  so  many  of  the 
subjects  of  divine  grace  are  found  among  the 
poor  of  this  world  ;  no  few  of  whom  are  ricli 
in  faith ;  and  able,  from  their  own  experience, 
to  reward  your  intercourse  with  them. 

Never  be  drawn  into  excessive  attachments. 
They  gender  envy  and  provoke  reflection. 
Like  himself,  a  minister's  wife  is  hardly  al- 
lowed friendship;  at  least, great  and  engross- 
ing intimacies.  She  stands  in  the  same  re- 
lation to  many ;  and  must  be  respectful  and 
attentive  to  all.  If  she  cannot  hinder  the 
existence  of  particular  feelings  and  prefer- 
ences ;  she  may,  she  must  learn  to  rule  the 
expression  of  them.  Many  in  your  rank, 
especially  the  narrow-minded  and  the  ill- 
educated,  always  have  their  cronies — a  kind 
of  low  favourites — decent  dependents — the 
collectors  of  all  the  news  of  the  church,  con- 
gregation, and  neighbourhood — and  who  can 
feed  their  entertainers  with  timely  selections, 
according  to  their  peculiar  appetite  and 
wishes,  with  which  they  are  perfectly  ac- 
quainted. Flee  these.  Beware  of  all  news- 
mongers. Frown  them  to  a  distance.  Chill 
them  into  silence.  What  says  the  proverb  ! 
"  The  receiver  is  as  bad  as  the  thief."  What 
says  the  witty  and  sarcastical  South'!  "  The 
tale-bearer,  and  the  tale-hearer,  should  be 
both  punished  together ;  only  the  one  should 
be  hung  up  by  the  tongue,  and  the  other  by 
the  ear." 

After  all  your  caution,  there  are  things 
which  you  will  unavoidably  hear — but  you 
must  hear  them,  as  if  you  heard  them  not — 
and  you  need  not  relate  them.  Be  not  sus- 
picious, yet  never  be  too  open.  Never  put 
yourself,  by  imprudent  confidence,  in  the 
power  of  any.  Never  betray  secrets  the  di- 
vulging of  which  may  involve  you  in  embar- 
rassment or  disgrace. 

Keep  yourself  aloof  from  all  breaches  in 
the  families  of  your  people,  and  any  differ- 
ences that  may  arise  in  the  church  or  con- 
gregation. There  is  danger  here,  from  your 
being,  with  regard  to  such  things,  in  the  way 
of  much  prattling  information ;  and  unless 
you  are  guarded,  you  will  be  easily  drawn  in, 
and  become  a  partizan :  and  when  a  female 
has  taken  her  side — which  seldom  requires 
much  time;  she  is  apt  to  be  more  open  than 
false ;  and  frequently  feels  and  expresses 
more  than  principle,  or  at  least  prudence,  can 
justify.  Never  show  or  wish  to  be  "  a  judge 
and  a  divider."  Never  be  found  in  the  Ec- 
clesiastical Court.  Leave  these  matters  to 
those  to  whom  they  properly  belong,  and  who 
"  have  the  rule."  I  never  knew  a  minister's 
wife,  but  was  esteemed  and  admired  in  pro- 
portion as  she  shunned  contention  and  in- 


termeddling, and  kept  within  the  duties  of 
her  own  appropriate  and  lovely  sphere.  It  is 
better  to  withdraw,  and  retire,  and  weep,  and 
pray,  than  to  excite  notice,  and  gain  partial 
praise,  with  the  froward,  and  even  the  for- 
ward in  spirit.  "  Who  is  a  wise"  woman, 
"and  endued  with  knowledge!"  Let  her 
"  show  out  of  a  good  conversation"  her 
"  works  with  meekness  of  wisdom.  For 
where  envy  and  strife  is,  there  is  confusion, 
and  every  evil  work.  But  the  wisdom  that 
is  from  above,  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable, 
gentle,  easy  to  be  entreated ;  full  of  mercy 
and  good  fruits;  without  partiality,  and  with- 
out hypocrisy.  And  the  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness is  sown  in  peace,  of  them  that  make 
peace." 

In  the  visits  you  pay  and  receive,  be  al- 
ways ready  to  encourage  religious  discourse. 
Let  this  appear  to  be  the  element  the  most 
congenial  with  your  spirit.  Let  your  speech 
turn  habitually  on  subjects,  rather  than  per- 
sons. Especially,  speak  evil  of  no  man — 
"  Upon  her  tongue  was  the  law  of  kindness." 
In  a  general  way,  be  rather  reserved  than 
over  communicative.  We  have  many  good 
discourses,  says  archbishop  Tillotson,  on  the 
excellency  of  speech ;  we  want  one  now  on 
the  excellency  of  silence.  "In  the  multi- 
tude of  words  there  wanteth  not  sin."  How 
often  does  Solomon,  the  wisest  of  mortals, 
enforce  a  comparative  backwardness  to  speak. 
In  one  place  he  tells  us  it  is  safe — in  another, 
it  is  wise— in  a  third,  it  is  dignified — in  a 
fourth,  it  is  useful — and  every  where  he  ex- 
tols it  as  a  virtue.  Nature,  my  sister,  teaches 
us  this  lesson  as  well  as  Scripture.  It  has 
given  us  two  ears,  but  one  tongue :  the  former 
avenues  are  always  left  open ;  the  latter  or- 
gan is  easily  enclosed — as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Be  swift  to  hear ;  but  slow  to  speak."  Here, 
alas !  "  who  can  understand  his  errors !" 
Who  can  read  the  testimony  of  Jesus — 
"  Every  idle  word  that  men  shall  speak,  they 
shall  give  account  thereof  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment"— and  not  pray,  "  Set  a  watch,  O  Lord, 
before  my  mouth :  keep  the  door  of  my  lips !" 
If  your  connexions  and  intercourse  afford  you 
more  opportunities  and  excitements  to  speak 
— so  much  the  more  necessary  is  it  that 
"  your  speech  should  be  always  with  grace, 
seasoned  with  salt."  I  urge  this,  because  of  its 
peculiar  and  neglected  importance.  Surely, 
what  James  says  of  our  sex  will  apply  equal- 
ly to  yours — especially  to  a  female  in  your 
relation.  "If  any  man  offend  not  in  word, 
the  same  is  a  perfect  man;  and  able  also  to 
bridle  the  whole  body." 

Fourthly;  with  regard  to  your  family. 
By  this  I  here  mean  servants  and  children.  ■ 

Upon  the  former  I  shall  not  much  enlarge. 
Surely,  in  the  treatment  of  your  servants,  it 
will  not  be  necessary  to  remind  you,  that  you 
have  a  Master  in  heaven,  and  that  there  is 
no  respect  of  persons  with  God.    He  that 


THE  CHARGE. 


293 


made  you  in  the  womb,  maae  them.  No  be- 
ing is  despicable  as  a  creature  of  the  Most 
High,  so  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made : 
and  no  one  is  to  be  contemned  on  the  ground 
of  power  and  influence.  Domestics  can  in- 
jure you :  their  very  situation  gives  them 
peculiar  means  and  opportunities ;  and  they 
may  employ  their  advantage  in  ways  of  which 
you  have  no  apprehension,  and  which  render 
counteraction  difficult  or  impossible.  It  is 
never  desirable  to  wage  war  with  inferiors : 
you  must  descend  to  the  same  lowness  of 
contention,  and  employ  weapons,  in  the  use 
of  which,  they  are  likely  to  be  much  more 
expert  than  yourself — while  the  sympathy 
of  beholders  will  be  most  naturally  drawn  to 
the  weaker  side.  Think  not  a  hint  of  this 
kind  beneath  your  notice.  It  will  procure 
you  more  discredit  than  you  are  aware  of,  to 
be  always,  or  often,  changing  your  servants ; 
or  to  wear  the  character  of  a  harsh,  scolding, 
close,  stingy  mistress. 

Sink  not  your  proper  distinction,  by  suffer- 
ing your  affability  to  degenerate  into  famili- 
arities. Neither  let  your  kindness  disappear 
in  your  authority.  Servitude  being  establish- 
ed against  the  natural  equality  of  mankind, 
should  be  softened  as  much  as  the  duties  of 
it  will  allow.  Consider  your  servants  as 
humble  friends.  Little  minds  endeavour  to 
support  their  consequence  by  distance  and 
hauteur :  but  true  dignity  is  always  conde- 
scending and  tender:  and  in  a  woman,  we 
admire,  not  what  is  stately,  but  what  is  en- 
dearing; not  what  is  dazzling,  but  what  is 
mild  and  lovely ;  not  what  is  great,  but  what 
is  graceful.  Forbear  threatening.  Distinguish 
between  mistakes,  and  the  want  of  princi- 
ple. Pass  by  little  infirmities.  Is  it  reason- 
able that  the  mistress  should  exact  from  a 
servant,  the  perfection,  the  servant  can  never 
expect  from  the  mistress?  Afford  your  do- 
mestics occasional  indulgence ;  and  especial- 
ly moments  for  reasonable  visits  to  their  re- 
lations and  friends.  Let  the  readiness  to 
commend  you  to  others, — the  tear  when  you 
leave  home, — the  beaming  countenance  when 
you  return, — the  eager  and  uncomplaining 
attendance  and  watching  by  day  and  night  in 
your  sickness;  show  that  you  have  gained 
the  heart,  as  well  as  hired  the  hand ;  and  are 
served,  not  by  the  sullenness  of  fear,  but  the 
cheerfulness  of  affection.  Above  all,  you 
will  not  overlook  the  moral  and  spiritual  wel- 
fare of  those  who  are  not  only  under  your 
command,  but  under  your  care — and  you 
will  care  for  their  souls.  You  will  not  only 
give  them  opportunity  to  attend  the  means 
of  grace,  and  family  worship;  but  you  will 
personally  instruct,  reprove,  encourage  them. 
However  ignorant  they  may  come  into  your 
service,  it  will  be  a  disgrace  to  the  mistress 
for  them  to  depart  unable  to  read  the  Scrip- 
tures. 

With  regard  to  the  children  the  Lord  may 
25* 


graciously  give  you,  your  husband  of  course 
will  share  with  you  in  the  discharge  of  paren- 
tal duty.  But  though,  here,  you  are  not  ex- 
clusively, yet  you  are — really — you  are  deep- 
ly, and  in  some  respects — peculiarly  concern- 
ed. In  all  the  animal  creation,  the  maternal 
instincts  are  the  most  powerful;  and  the  wis- 
dom of  the  provision  is  obvious — the  rearing 
of  their  offspring  almost  entirely  belongs  to 
the  mother.  In  the  education  of  children — 
of  the  daughters  till  they  are  married ;  and 
of  the  sons  till  a  certain  age — the  care  falls 
chiefly  on  the  female.  To  her  belong  un- 
questionably the  first  years  of  both ;  and 
those  periods  are  the  most  tender  and  ductile. 
Her  share  of  tuition,  therefore,  begins  very 
early;  and  it  cannot  begin  too  early.  In- 
fants are  impressed  before  they  are  supposed 
to  be  receptive  of  impression ;  and  they  are 
proceeding  in  a  direction  before  we  think 
they  are  capable  of  motion.  They  can  re- 
member before  they  can  reason ;  and  they 
can  judge  before  they  can  speak;  as  you  see 
by  their  looks  and  gestures,  their  attractions 
and  their  aversions.  Here  your  wisdom  and 
your  vigilance  must  be  awake,  instantly  to 
seize  and  improve  opportunities,  apparently 
insignificant,  but  most  serious  in  their  effects. 
The  roads  that  lead  to  places  very  remote 
from  each  other,  diverge  very  slenderly  at 
their  beginnings.  When  I  wish  the  branch 
of  a  tree  in  my  garden  to  occupy  a  particular 
space,  I  can  guide  it,  while  a  sucker,  with  a 
thread:  a  few  years  after  it  will  require  a 
rope ;  and  the  attempt  to  bend  it  will  be  like- 
ly to  break. 

As  a  mother  too,  from  his  endeared  de- 
pendence upon  you,  you  are  sure  of  the 
child's  first  and  liveliest  attachment.  And 
you  have  always  the  advantage  of  immediate 
access.  And  you  have  also  the  influence  of 
that  insinuation  and  address  which  our  sex 
has  not  the  faculty  to  possess,  or  the  patience 
to  employ.  One  of  the  absurd  opinions  of 
former  times  was,  that  poison  never  diffused 
itself  so  quickly  and  powerfully  as  when  it 
was  administered  in  human  milk — nothing 
certainly  affects  so  much  as  what  is  imbibed 
with  the  mother's  milk.  In  the  age  of  Sil- 
ver, Hesiod  says,  poetically,  children  con- 
tinued, during  an  infancy  of  one  hundred 
years,  under  maternal  care. 

I  am  weary,  said  the  ambitious  Cornelia, 
of  being  called  Scipio's  daughter.  Do  some- 
thing, my  sons,  to  style  me  the  mother  of  the 
Gracchi.  What  an  honour  will  be  conferred 
on  you,  if  you  should  be  the  means  of  rear- 
ing a  disciple  of  Jesus !  an  heir  of  God  !  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel !  an  ambassador  to  the 
heathen!  And  why  should  you  be  discour- 
aged 1  We  know  that  human  nature  is  de- 
praved ;  but  we  know  the  grace  that  is  in 
Christ  Jesus.  We  do  not  think  of  your  suc- 
cess without  his  blessing  ;  but  we  encourage 
you  to  seek  it:  and  while,  in  dependence 


294 


THE  CHARGE. 


upon  it,  you  employ  all  the  means  in  your 
power,  remember  his  own  word :  "  Train  up 
a  child  in  the  way  that  he  should  go,  and 
when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it." 
This  is  indeed  a  proverb,  and  therefore  admits 
of  exceptions :  but,  as  a  proverb,  it  must  be 
generally  true:  and  where  the  mother  has 
performed  her  part,  there  are  few  failures — 
at  least  eventual  failures.  For  a  time  she 
may  have  seemed  to  labour  in  vain ;  but  she 
sowed  the  seed  in  good  season ;  and  though 
impatience  deemed  it  dead,  some  after-show- 
ers and  sun-shines  caused  it  to  spring  up,  and 
bring  forth  fruit.  So  it  was  with  the  mother 
of  Augustine.  You  have  also  heard,  to  the 
same  effect,  the  grateful  acknowledgments 
of  a  Newton  and  a  Cecil  in  later  times. 
While  many,  by  maternal  influence,  have 
been  reclaimed  from  the  paths  of  the  Destroy- 
er ;  others — and  who  can  tell  their  number 
— others  have  been  preserved ;  and  have 
feared  the  Lord  from  their  youth  and  their 
infancy.  This  was  the  case  with  Samuel 
and  Timothy  ;  the  Jewish  Church  being  in- 
debted for  the  former  to  Hannah,  and  the 
Christian  Church  to  Lois  and  Eunice  for  the 
latter.  David  does  not  any  where  refer  to 
Jesse ;  but,  says  he,  "  Save  the  son  of  thine 
handmaid." — "  I  am  the  son  of  thine  hand- 
maid." And  who  can  tell  what  early  and 
touching  recollections  of  her  early,  and  ten- 
der, and  pious  solicitude,  he  felt  at  the  mo- 
ment of  such  appeals  1 

At  our  ordinations,  when  the  candidate  has 
been  asked  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  he  has 
been  called  by  Divine  Grace,  how  often,  if  he 
has  adverted  to  the  means,  has  a  tear — which 
instantly  drew  forth  kindred  drops  from  the 
eyes  of  others — almost  interrupted  the  con- 
fession, "  I  had  the  advantage  of  a  pious  mo- 
ther"  

— You  cannot  have  forgotten  the  acknow- 
ledgment, on  the  preceding  day,  of  one  so 
dear  to  you — "  I  have  no  miracle  to  publish  : 
I  have  no  surprising  or  sudden  change  to  re- 
late— But  blessed  be  his  Name ;  I  was  brought 
up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord — the  taking  of  my  little  hand  in  her's 
— I  think  I  feel  it  still,  and  leading  me  aside 
to  pray — Her  concern  on  returning  from  the 
house  of  God,  to  enable  me  to  remember  and 
understand  the  sermon — The  murmur  of  her 
dear  voice  at  her  devotion  as  I  passed  her 
chamber  door — The  maxims  and  principles 
she  lodged  in  my  infant  mind — The  tears  that 
bedewed  her  reproofs — The  caresses  that 
enforced  her  entreaties — Her  cheerfulness, 
that  constantly  said,  '  O  taste  and  see  that 
the  Lord  is  good,' — Her  example,  that  im- 
bodied  her  religion,  and  made  it  as  lovely  as 
herself — These  endear  the  memory  of  a  mo- 
ther, from  whom,  under  God,  I  have  derived 

my  spiritual,  as  well  as  my  natural  life"  

You  are  not  commonly  in  danger  of  injur- 
ing or  overlooking  the  health  of  your  off- 


spring intentionally :  but  wisdom  is  profitable 
to  direct.  A  little  medical  advice,  and  ob- 
servation and  experience,  in  the  service  of 
common  sense,  will  enable  you  to  see  the  im- 
portance of  air  and  exercise — of  sweetening 
the  blood  by  a  proper  choice  of  food — and  of 
preventing  ailments  by  simplicity  of  diet,  and 
keeping  nature  unclogged  by  excess.  Never 
accustom  them  at  table  to  choose  for  them- 
selves— you  are  the  best  judge  as  to  the 
quality  and  measure  of  their  provisions — and 
they  cannot  be  too  early  taught  to  give  up 
self-will  to  superior  wisdom. 

Were  I  addressing  your  partner,  I  should 
say,  "  Fathers,  provoke  not  your  children  to 
anger,  lest  they  be  discouraged."  But  your 
danger  generally  lies  on  the  other  side. 
Therefore  beware  of  fond  and  foolish  indul- 
gence. Trifles  may  be  passed  over;  and 
some  minor  offences  be  safely  buried  in  the 
bosom  of  maternal  tenderness :  but  conceal 
no  faults  your  children  may  commit,  of  a  more 
serious  nature,  from  the  father  ;  nor,  if  you 
privately  plead  for  the  softening  of  correc- 
tion, ever  counteract  the  effort  of  rebuke,  by 
appearing  to  oppose  it  at  the  time.  In  all 
matters  of  moral  rule  and  discipline,  nothing 
is  more  necessary  than  for  the  parents  to  be 
seen  agreed  and  decided. 

Endeavour  to  cultivate  the  manners  of  your 
children :  and  render  them  examples  of  good 
behaviour.  If  they  are  forward,  and  imper- 
tinent, and  rude,  and  disorderly,  insulting  to 
inferiors,  disrespectful  to  superiors,  disobedient 
to  parents ;  the  minister  as  well  as  the  mo- 
ther will  be  blamed :  for  he  is  to  be  "  one 
that  ruleth  well  his  own  house,  having  his 
children  in  subjection  with  all  gravity.  For 
if  a  man  know  not  how  to  rule  his  own  house, 
how  shall  he  take  care  of  the  Church  of 
God? 

Be  not  regardless  of  their  dress.  Let  it 
not  be  costly  and  fine.  If,  through  the  in- 
consideration  of  friendship,  things  are  given 
them,  above  the  propriety  of  their  condition, 
let  them  be  refused,  or  exchanged,  or  altered. 
Instead  of  cherishing,  even  indirectly,  a 
fondness  for  attire,  endeavour  to  subdue,  or 
rather  prevent  it.  This,  however,  requires 
much  skilfulness,  especially  with  daughters ; 
and  all  precepts  will  be  more  than  vain,  un- 
less they  are  enforced  by  your  own  example. 

Keep  them  from  visiting  too  much.  Some, 
from  a  regard  to  their  father's  character  and 
office,  may  not  only  invite  your  children,  but 
contribute  to  spoil  them,  by  making  too  much 
of  them ;  and  giving  them  ideas  and  feelings 
above  their  rank.  On  this  principle,  they 
should  rarely,  if  ever  visit  families  of  superior 
condition,  lest  they  should  grow  dissatisfied 
with  the  plainness  and  sobrieties  of  home. 

And  push  them  not  too  soon  and  too  much 
into  observation.  Especially  when  your 
children  are  present,  never  in  company  no- 
tice and  extol  any  particular  quality  or  attain- 


THE  CHARGE. 


295 


ment ;  with  regard  to  which,  you  will  there- 
by assuredly  render  them  false  and  vain ;  and 
stimulate  them  to  forwardness  and  talking, 
against  which  you  cannot  guard  them  too 
much.  Hearing  you  thus  admire  them,  they 
think  every  one  else  does  the  same.  In  your 
attentions  to  them,  therefore,  before  others, 
let  them  not  perceive  any  particular  solici- 
tude on  your  part  to  set  them  off  by  their 
talents.  Be  content  to  form  their  minds  by 
slow  degrees ;  and  remember,  that  if  it  were 
in  your  power  to  advance  them  in  knowledge 
beyond  their  years,  it  would  not  be  desirable : 
for  what  is  the  advantage  of  premature 
ability,  compared  with  the  danger  of  pride, 
arrogance,  and  self-sufficiency  1 

No,  nor  in  their  absence  be  even  eager  to 
bring  forth  their  parts  and  sayings.  Not 
only  does  modesty  require  this,  but  a  regard 
to  the  feelings  of  others :  you  have  no  right 
to  embarrass  your  company,  by  obliging  them 
to  commend  and  admire  things  which  they 
may  not  deem  so  wonderful  and  clever  as  the 
mother.  What  a  child  had  Mary!  How 
many  prodigies  could  she  have  brought  for- 
ward !  "  But  Mary  kept  all  these  things, 
and  pondered  them  in  her  heart"  I  am 
aware  that  this  maternal  propensity  is  not 
peculiar  to  the  wives  of  ministers  ;  but  they 
are  more  in  danger  of  it  than  many  others ; 
and  the  weakness  will  be  more  observable  in 
them. 

Devote  a  portion  of  your  time  expressly 
every  day  to  the  improvement  of  your  infant 
charge.  Prudence  must  determine  when,  and 
how  long  it  should  be ;  but  after  deciding,  be 
persevering  and  firm  in  adhering  to  your 
plan ;  and  let  interrupters  no  more  break  in 
upon  it,  than  upon  the  time  sacred  to  the 
studies  of  your  husband. 

Especially  employ,  without  making  it  irk- 
some and  tiresome,  a  portion  of  the  Sabbath 
to  the  examination  and  instruction  of  your 
children.  Yet  we  have  known  the  wives  of 
some  ministers,  who  have  been  fonder  of  at- 
tending Sunday-schools,  and  addressing  them, 
than  of  being  "  teachers  of  babes"  at  home. 
Sunday-schools  must  have  their  attendance, 
and  much  praise  is  due  to  those  who  dedicate 
to  their  service  so  many  of  their  hours:  but 
if  persons  have  originated  families,  these 
must  be  their  first  care — "  He  that  provideth 
not  for  his  own,  especially  those  of  his  own 
house,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse 
than  an  infidel." 

Fifthly;  with  regard  to  your  husband. 
He  is  your  chosen  and  dearest  relation  ;  and 
in  this  connexion  another  is  involved.  Your 
husband  is  also  your  pastor ;  and  thus  an  ad- 
ditional reason  is  furnished  why  you  should 
"  reverence"  him,  and  "  submit"  to  him.  It 
is  little  honourable  to  any  party,  when,  not 
only  the  head  of  the  family,  but  the  ruler  of 
the  synagogue,  is  supposed  to  be  under  go- 
vernment.   In  whose  hand  soever  the  sceptre 


be  found,  it  is  the  sign  of  dominion ;  and  how- 
ever softly  it  may  be  swayed,  they  who  are 
under  it  are  the  subjects.  But,  indeed,  wo- 
men who  assume  the  reins,  seldom  manage 
them  with  moderation,  or  dignity.  All  usurp- 
ers, whatever  was  their  previous  disposition, 
incline  to  tyranny  and  display ;  and,  unlike 
those  who  naturally  and  legitimately  govern, 
are  never  satisfied  but  as  their  power  is  felt 
and  acknowledged. 

In  no  case  does  it  become  the  wife  to  ex- 
ercise authority  over  the  man  she  has  promis- 
ed to  obey :  and  she  is  a  vain  and  a  weak  wo- 
man, who  exposes  to  observation  even  the 
influence  which  in  many  cases  she  is  justified 
in  using.    Whom  does  the  poet  commend  1 

She  who  ne'er  answers  till  her  husband  cools, 
Or,  if  she  rules  him,  never  shows  she  rules; 
Charms  by  accepting,  by  submission  sways, 
Yet  has  her  humour  most  when  she  obeys. 

When  Livia  had  attained  such  an  ascend- 
ancy over  her  husband  Augustus  that  there 
was  hardly  any  thing  he  would  refuse  her, 
though  emperor  of  the  world,  many  of  the 
married  ladies  of  Rome  were  anxious  to  know 
the  secret  and  the  source  of  her  success :  to 
whom  she  replied,  "  I  rule  by  obeying."  We 
need  not  inquire  from  what  cause  it  arises, 
but  a  man  soon  acquires  a  notion  of  the  supe- 
riority of  his  own  sex.  This 

"  Grows  with  his  growth,  and  strengthens  with  his 
strength—" 

He  is  tenacious  to  maintain  it ;  and  therefore 
is  jealous  of  every  attempt  to  reduce  it.  But 
it  has  been  observed,  that  he  possesses  at  the 
same  time  a  sentimental  tenderness  towards 
the  other  sex ;  and  an  inclination  to  please 
and  indulge  them  ;  and  thus,  while  he  would 
domineer,  he  is  subdued.  This  has  been  call- 
ed his  weak  side.  Be  it  so  ;  the  use  of  it  is 
obvious  ;  and  a  woman  of  sense  can  always 
turn  it  to  advantage,  and  found  on  it  a  better 
dominion  than  authority — an  empire  of  ad- 
dress and  affection — caresses  her  orders — 
tears  her  menaces — and  silence  and  submis- 
sion her  arms.  Here  she  can  do  wonders, 
because  she  appeals  to  nature  itself;  and  is 
supported  by  a  principle  implanted  in  us  by 
the  wise  Creator  to  humble  the  pride  of  pow- 
er, and  to  compensate  those  who  have  not 
the  force  to  conquer,  by  giving  them  the  fas- 
cination to  charm. 

Never  forget,  therefore,  that  your  means 
of  sway  must  have  for  their  basis,  gentleness, 
sweetness,  and  good  temper ;  and  that  they 
must  be  so  exercised,  as  to  allow  your  hus- 
band to  believe  that  he  is  supporting  his 
sovereignity,  even  while  he  is  yielding  it. 
The  show  even  of  influence  will  alarm  his 
vanity  and  consequence;  but  the  discovery 
of  your  intention  to  succeed,  by  any  thing 
like  authority,  harshness,  or  sullenness,  will 
not  only  produce  disappointment,  but  gender 
resistance  or  disgust.  No  man  of  feeling  was 
ever  proof  against  the  kindness  of  a  sensible 


296 


THE  CHARGE. 


woman  :  but  where,  in  all  history,  can  an  in- 
stance be  produced,  in  which  an  ascendancy 
over  him  has  been  obtained  by  frowardness  J 
scolding  1  and  strife  for  pre-eminence  ? 

Observe,  however,  that  what  we  have  said 
of  influence,  goes  not  to  justify  that  low  and 
artful  cunning,  by  which  some  endeavour  to 
carry  a  favourite  purpose.  If  we  can  depend 
upon  the  writers  of  a  former  age,  the  grand 
resource  of  a  lady,  whose  lord  denied  her  any 
thing  on  which  she  had  set  her  heart,  was  to 
fall  into  an  hysteric.  The  ministry  of  fits  and 
vapours  seems  now  to  be  nearly  closed.  But, 
says  an  excellent  writer,  "  Let  not  the  dis- 
positions, by  which  it  was  introduced  and  up- 
held, be  found  to  survive  its  fall.  Let  it  ever 
be  remembered  that  she,  who  by  teazing,  by 
wheedling,  by  finesse,  under  any  shape  what- 
ever, seeks  to  deceive  or  to  weary  into  ac- 
quiescence or  consent;  acts  no  less  plainly 
in  opposition  to  her  duty  of  scriptural  obe- 
dience, than  she  would  have  done,  had  she 
driven  him  into  compliance  by  the  menaces 
and  weapons  of  an  Amazon." 

This  general,  but  very  important  requisite 
in  your  conduct  towards  your  husband  being 
settled  ;  you  will  allow  me  to  mention  a  few 
other  articles  deserving  your  candid  regard. 

— Such  is  an  attention  to  his  personal  ap- 
pearance. He  will  detest  being  a  fop ;  and 
you  will  not  allow  him  to  be  a  sloven.  You 
will  not  wish  to  see  him  waving  the  ring  on 
his  lily  hand,  nor  indulging 

"  A  silly  fond  conceit  of  his  fair  form 
And  just  proportion,  fashionable  mien 
And  pretty  face,  in  presence  of  his  God." — 

even  comparative 

"  — Slovenly  neglect,  and  rustic  coarseness," 
are  better  than  affectation  and  finicality.  But 
these  are  not  good  in  themselves.  Purity, 
neatness,  decency,  become  the  man  of  God  in 
his  appearance  and  apparel ;  and  his  want  of 
it  will  draw  reflection  upon  you. 

— Such  is  an  attention  to  his  property. 

These  must  be  the  matters  in  which  the 
Apostle  says,  the  wife  is  to  "  guide  the 
house."    Paul  would  not  have  a  minister  en- 
tangled with  the  affairs  of  this  life ;  that  he 
may  know  how  to  please  Him  that  has  called 
him  to  be  a  soldier.    Keep  your  husband  as 
much  as  possible  disengaged  from  secular 
things,  that  he  may  feel  himself  free  for  his 
work,  both  in  the  preparation  and  the  dis- 
charge.   The  kind  of  keenness  and  clever- 
ness in  worldly  business,  often  admired  in  j 
others,  would  have  a  lowering  effect  in  a  : 
minister.    The  pantry,  the  shop,  the  market- 
place, the  slang  and  the  tricks  of  the  huck- 
ster, would  be  incongruous  and  desecrating  ; 
in  him.    His  tact  is  to  be  of  another  order,  1 
and  to  evince  itself  in  the  things  of  God.  "  Is  . 
it  reason  that  we  should  leave  the  word  of  s 
God  and  serve  tables }"    Therefore  Deacons  < 
were  appointed  even  to  provide  for  the  bodily  I 


•  relief  of  the  poor  of  the  Church ;  while  "  we," 
1  says  the  Apostle,  "give  ourselves  to  prayer 
!  and  the  ministry  of  the  word." 

In  vain  the  husband  labours  and  gains,  if 
you,  in  your  ill-housewifery,  are  wilfully  ex- 
pensive ;  or  negligently  profuse ;  or  ignorantly 

•  wasteful.  "Every  wise  woman  buildeth  her 
house ;  but  the  foolish  plucketh  it  down  with 
her  hands."  Let  nothing  deprive  you  of  the 
commendation :  "  She  looketh  well  to  the 
ways  of  her  household,  and  eateth  not  the 
bread  of  idleness."  What  is  the  cleverness 
of  a  female  showing  away  out  of  her  sphere 
of  duty?  what  is  a  sprightly  wit !  a  smart- 
ness in  conversation  !  an  epistolary  talent! 
or  a  smattering  of  the  languages  1  Will 
these  raise  and  recommend  a  woman  in  the 
midst  of  a  neglected,  ill-managed,  disordered, 
sinking  family  ? 

Despise  not  a  little  knowledge  of  arithme- 
tic— some  accomplishments  may  be  much  less 
useful.  Shun  arrears.  Be  regular  in  de- 
manding, and  punctual  in  discharging  your 
weekly  accounts.  If  you  commanded  abun- 
dance, the  Scripture  would  say  to  you, 
"  Gather  up  the  fragments,  that  nothing  be 
lost" — and  there  are  many  purposes  to  which 
the  fruit  of  frugality  may  be  applied ;  but 
how  absolutely  indispensable  must  inspection 
and  strictness  be,  where  the  resources  to  be 
managed  are  limited! 

It  is  not  necessary  that  your  husband  should 
appear  as  a  gentleman,  and  awaken  feelings 
of  rivalship  in  civil  things  among  his  people, 
or  neighbours.  Never  remind  him  of  the  su- 
perior circumstances  of  others,  or  urge  him 
even  indirectly  to  live  beyond  his  means — 
and  judge  of  these — not  by  his  occasional,  but 
expected  income.  Exercise  every  kind  of 
self-denial,  rather  than  see  him  involved. 
How  trying  to  his  feelings  to  be  reduced  to 
the  difficulty  of  borrowing!  How  reproach- 
ful, while  calling  upon  others  to  provide  things 
honest,  not  only  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  but 
also  in  the  sight  of  men,  to  incur  the  suspicion 
of  being  unrighteous  himself!  How  can  he 
preach  at  all,  with  pleasure  or  freedom,  though 
others  may  as  yet  be  ignorant,  while  he  is 
conscious  of  legal  claims  ready  to  be  visited 
upon  him. 

And  here  you  are  to  display  your  economy. 
You  are  not  to  regard  this  as  a  low  mean 
thing,  fit  only  for  the  vulgar.  Solomon  cha- 
racterizes his  virtuous  woman,  though  in  high 
life,  principally  by  simplicity,  diligence,  re- 
gularity, and  domestic  management :  and 
in  these  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans 
placed  much  of  female  worth  and  excellence. 

But  what  is  economy  1  It  is  not  "  the  stop- 
ping of  one  hole  in  the  sieve."  It  is  not  a  par- 
ticular retrenchment,  or  an  occasional  saving. 
It  is  not  the  pinching  of  the  servants,  and 
stinting  the  family  one  week,  to  give  a  showy 
dinner  the  next.  It  is  a  mode  of  regulation 
that  eyes  the  whole  detail  of  household  ex- 


THE  CHARGE. 


297 


pense.  It  is  the  art,  not  of  sordid  saving,  but 
of  making  a  little  go  a  great  way.  It  eludes 
meanness,  as  well  as  waste.  Stinginess  is 
one  extreme,  profuseness  is  another.  There 
is  a  steering  between  them :  but  this  is  not 
easy ;  and  it  requires  the  judgment  and  skill 
which  some  females  seem  to  exercise  by  a 
kind  of  intuition  or  instinct :  so  that  they  al- 
ways appear  to  advantage ;  unembarrassed  ; 
unconfused;  ready  without  haste;  deciding 
as  if  without  design;  and  while  causing  every 
thing  to  move  in  its  proper  time  and  place, 
keeping  the  mechanism  of  the  process  in- 
visible— for  the  perfection  of  art  is  to  conceal 
art. 

— An  attention  to  his  health  of  body.  This 
in  his  case  is  peculiarly  important.  It  is  not 
only  the  source  of  his  comfort  and  enjoyment ; 
but  it  is  essential  to  his  usefulness.  What 
confusion  and  disappointment  result  from  the 
sickness  or  indisposition  of  one  on  whose  mi- 
nistrations such  numbers  depend — for  "his 
lips  feed  many."  Paul  does  not  think  it  be- 
neath him  to  watch  over  the  health  of  Timo- 
thy ;  and  to  prescribe  for  him  like  a  physician : 
"  Drink  no  longer  water,  but  use  a  little  wine 
for  thy  stomach's  sake,  and  thine  often  in- 
firmities." 

Study  therefore  your  husband's  constitu- 
tional liableness  to  injury — not  to  render  him 
soft,  and  effeminate,  and  fanciful ;  but  cau- 
tious; and  to  aid  him  in  the  regulation  of  his 
mode  of  living,  as  to  sleep,  and  diet,  and  ex- 
ercise. You  need  not  be  afraid  of  proper  ap- 
plication and  exertion.  These,  instead  of 
injuring  the  health,  conduce  to  it.  They  give 
circulation  to  the  fluids,  and  prevent  the  evils 
of  stagnation:  they  hinder  the  rust  of  the 
mind,  and  keep  the  powers  polished,  and  easy 
of  motion.  But  there  may  be  an  overdoing. 
The  machine  may  be  overworked.  You  will 
be,  perhaps,  by  your  constant  and  intimate 
observation,  the  best  judge  of  the  degree  of 
labour  to  which  he  is  equal.  You  will  not 
be  ignorant  of  his  impaired  digestion,  his  per- 
turbed rest,  his  trembling  nerves,  his  de- 
pressed spirits,  his  exhausted  frame,  and  the 
low  ebb  of  vigour  when  the  Sabbath  is  gone, 
and  the  Monday  sees  him  not  living,  but  ex- 
isting only.  And  you  must  not  neglect  to 
sound  the  timely  alarm.  And  if  zeal,  without 
knowledge  or  feeling,  still  urges  the  same 
unremitting  efforts ;  and  tells  him  he  cannot 
die  in  a  better  cause :  if  his  spiritual  task- 
masters require  the  same  tale  of  bricks :  if 
the  three  services  of  the  day  must  still  be 
exacted  from  wasting  strength  yet  growing 
anxiety — his  blood  will  be  upon  the  heads  of 
his  godly  murderers;  but  you  have  delivered 
your  soul. 

— An  attention  to  his  peace  of  mind.  Wc 
have  met  with  some  members  of  churches, 
who  kindly  think  that  affliction  and  depres- 
sion are  best  for  a  minister.  We  are  almost 
ashamed  to  use  a  coarse  and  unfeeling  pro- 


verb among  them,  quite  worthy,  however,  of 
the  employers — and  since  we  are  not  in  the 
pulpit — let  it  come  out — "  That  the  preacher 
never  preaches  so  well  as  when  the  cow  has 
trod  upon  his  foot."  Yet  it  never  seems  to 
strike  these  cold  calculating  reasoners,  that 
they,  as  hearers,  may  be  benefited  themselves 
by  a  similar  experience.  But  if  domestic  dis- 
tress be  desirable  for  the  improvement  of  the 
preacher,  so  may  any  other  kind  of  rueful 
probation :  and  if  the  physician,  in  order  to 
perfect  him  in  his  art,  is  to  go  through  all 
the  complaints  for  which  he  prescribes,  he 
will  have  neither  time  nor  ability  to  prac- 
tise. To  dismiss  this  delicate  figure,  I  hope 
my  brother's  "  fair  heifer"  will  not  achieve 
this  species  of  service  for  him.  I  am  sure 
she  will  not.  I  am  sure  she  will  encourage 
him-. 

And  he  will  require  every  favourable  ex- 
citement. His  work  is  arduous.  He  has  tri- 
als in  common  with  men;  and  he  has  trials 
in  common  with  his  fellow-Christians :  but  he 
has  also  various  trials  peculiar  to  himself — 
and  you  will  best  know  this.  You,  indeed 
even  you,  will  not  know  all  his  heart's  bit- 
terness :  but  you  will  hear  enough,  see  enough, 
to  convince  you  that  he,  whose  office  it  is  to 
comfort  others,  needs  no  little  consolation  him- 
self. And  your  smiles  can  rainbow  the  cloud 
of  grief.  Your  soft  hand  can  smooth  the 
wrinkles  of  his  oppressed  brow.  Your  gentle 
words,  like  the  fanning  of  an  angel's  wing, 
can  cool  the  heatful  anguish  of  the  mind. 
Your  kind  management — a  woman  is  never 
at  a  loss  where  comfort  is  called  for — can 
withdraw  a  distracting  train  of  thought  and 
substitute  cheerful  imagery.  You  can  re- 
mind him  of  instances  of  usefulness,  when 
he  is  complaining,  "  I  have  laboured  in  vain, 
and  spent  my  strength  for  nought."  In  his 
doubts  and  fears,  with  regard  to  his  own  spi- 
ritual condition — and  to  such  he  is  liable — 
you  can  be  the  wife  of  Manoah,  who  said,  "  If 
the  Lord  were  pleased  to  kill  us,  he  would 
not  have  received  an  offering  at  our  hand ; 
nor  have  shown  us  such  things  as  these."  If 
among  his  people  he  meets  with  mortifying 
defections  in  such  as  should  prove  a  comfort 
to  him,  he  will  find  one  tried  and  faithful  bo- 
som in  which  he  can  safely  repose.  If  he 
has  storms  abroad,  peace  will  be  always 
awaiting  him  at  home  :  and  he  will  always 
enjoy  a  resource  in  that  unfailing  good  tem- 
per 

"  Whose  unclouded  ray 

Can  make  to-morrow  cheerful  as  to-day." 

You  will,  indeed,  be  every  way  anxious  to 
render  his  own  abode,  not  only  the  taberna- 
cle of  the  righteous,  but  the  dwelling-place 
of  tenderness  and  comfort.  In  this,  his  safety 
as  well  as  his  satisfaction  will  be  much  con- 
cerned. We  have  known  not  only  men,  but 
ministers,  who  have  fallen  by  temptation: 
and  though  we  by  no  means  wish  to  justify 


298 


THE  CHARGE. 


or  extenuate  their  conduct,  it  is  no  secret, 
that  in  some  instances,  at  least,  there  has 
been  little  domestic  happiness  and  attraction. 
What  attraction  can  there  be  in  sullenness? 
or  in  peevishness!  or  in  clamour?  "Better 
is  a  dry  morsel  and  quietness  therewith,  than 
a  house  full  of  sacrifices  with  strife."  "  It 
is  better  to  dwell  in  a  corner  of  the  house- 
top, than  with  a  brawling  woman  in  a  wide 
house."  "  A  continual  dropping  in  a  rainy 
day,  and  a  contentious  woman,  are  alike. 
Whoso  hideth  her,  hideth  the  wind,  and  the 
ointment  of  his  right  hand  that  bewrayeth 
itself"  What  attraction  can  there  be  in 
negligence ?  disorder  1  slatternliness  ?  A  dis- 
regard of  propriety,  and  especially  neatness 
of  apparel,  is  in  a  female  a  fault  that  nothing 
can  expiate.  Even  religion  will  not  excuse 
it.  There  is  a  greater  connexion  between 
mental  and  outward  purity  than  some  are 
aware  of.  A  female  may  be  always  judged 
of  by  her  dress.  The  founders  of  Methodism 
were  accustomed  to  say,  that  cleanliness  was 
next  to  godliness.  I  have  known  a  few  ex- 
ceptions to  this,  in  men.  I  never  knew  one 
in  a  woman. 

Rely  not  too  much  on  the  rights  of  relation- 
ship, however  intimate  the  connexion  may  be, 
and  however  endeared  it  ought  to  be.  In 
preserving  and  keeping  alive  attachment,  you 
must  not  absolutely  depend  upon  the  impres- 
sions that  awakened  it.    A  woman  is  not  to 

{•resume  on  the  certainty  of  homage,  regard- 
ess  of  an  attention  to  her  manners.  She  is 
not,  as  soon  as  she  has  stepped  over  the 
threshold  of  marriage,  to  drop  the  delicacy, 
the  decencies,  the  engaging  appearance  by 
which  she  attracted  the  lover.  Men  are  very 
selfish  beings.  They  have  very  little  of 
your  disinterested  feelings.  You  must  not 
suffer,  with  them,  your  amiableness  to  fail. 
And  how  is  esteem  to  be  preserved,  even 
when  the  fervour  of  affection  declines ?  You 
cannot  dream  of  perpetual  admiration.  The 
roses  and  carnations  are  for  the  summer 
months.  What  provision  is  there  for  win- 
ter? What  woman  is  the  most  universally 
valued  ?  The  Domestic.  And  for  your  en- 
couragement be  assured,  that  the  more  re- 
ligious men  are  in  their  feelings,  and  the 
more  improved  in  their  understandings,  the 
more  certainly  will  they  be  attached  to  do- 
mestic life ;  always  having  an  abundance  of 
entertainments  in  private  and  tranquil  scenes, 
unknown  to  the  vulgar  and  the  dissipated. 

— An  attention  to  his  official  ministrations. 
On  these,  I  need  not  say,  you  will  be  sure  to 
attend  regularly,  when  it  is  in  your  power. 
But  for  this  purpose  you  must  value  them. 
And  here  you  are  likely  to  feel  some  difficul- 
ties peculiar  to  your  situation.  A  Sage  has 
said,  "  Domestic  greatness  is  unattainable." 
The  Saviour  testifies  that  "a  Prophet  is  not 
without  honour,  save  in  his  own  country,  and 
in  his  own  house."   And  if  this  applied  in  a 


measure  even  to  himself,  it  will  bear  in  an 
unspeakably  greater  degree  on  all  his  imper- 
fect servants.  Distance  diminishes  and  con- 
ceals defects ;  while  nearness  discovers  and 
enlarges  them.  If  familiarity  does  not  breed 
contempt,  it  reduces  veneration,  and  injures 
many  kinds  of  impression.  A  husband  must 
be  a  very  consistent  character,  and  be  known 
to  act  always  from  principle,  to  enable  a  wife 
to  feel  under  his  services,  as  under  those  of 
a  stranger,  whose  excellences  only,  she  has 
heard  of,  while  she  is  ignorant  of  the  failings 
that  would  shade  them — and  such  we  allow  a 
husband  who  is  a  minister  ought  to  be :  but 
even  when  he  is  such,  though  he  will  be 
essentially,  he  cannot  be  circumstantially  the 
same  always.  He  cannot  be  constantly  in 
his  robes.  It  would  be  affectation  to  attempt 
to  keep  up  always  the  formal  dignity  of  his 
pulpit  exercises.  Yea,  it  would  be  absurd 
even  to  distinguish  himself  in  the  ordinary 
actions  and  manners  of  life.  He  cannot  be 
the  preacher  only :  he  must  also  appear  the 
man,  the  companion,  the  father — 

"  And  he  will  not  blush,  that  has  a  father's  heart, 
To  take  in  childish  things  a  childish  part." 

But  hence  an  effort  will  be  necessary — to  see, 
under  all  these  common  and  familiar  append- 
ages of  humanity — to  recognize  in  one  of 
like  passions  with  yourself,  and  compassed 
about  with  infirmities,  the  man  of  God,  the 
messenger  of  Heaven,  the  Herald  of  Salva- 
tion :  to  value  the  treasure  as  divine,  though 
you  know  that  it  is  contained  in  an  earthen 
vessel ;  and  to  receive  his  word,  "  not  as  the 
word  of  man,  but  as  it  is  in  truth  the  word 
of  God,  that  worketh  effectually  in  them  that 
believe." 

— An  attention  to  his  usefulness.  I  do  not 
mean  that  you  should  aid  him  in  making  his 
sermons  :  he  ought  to  be  able  to  make  these  - 
himself;  (neither  should  he  steal  his  words 
from  his  neighbour)  but  you  may  be  a  help- 
mate to  him,  as  to  his  personal  religion ;  and 
need  we  say  how  much  of  the  facility,  and 
excellence,  and  success  of  his  work,  as  a 
minister,  will  depend  upon  the  spirituality  of 
his  mind,  and  the  devoutness  of  his  heart? 
You  may  remind  him  of  his  engagements. 
You  may  excite  him  to  diligence  in  his  holy 
calling ;  especially  in  those  parts  of  it  that 
draw  forth  less  notice  and  praise. 

Wherever  he  is  found,  he  ought  to  be  use- 
ful ;  and  diffusing  the  savour  of  the  Redeem- 
er's knowledge  in  every  place.  Be  not,  there- 
fore, illiberal  and  selfish  with  regard  to  his 
company.  He  ought  to  be  a  lover  of  home, 
and  not  to  be  disposed  to  spend  his  evenings 
abroad;  for  they  are  seasons  not  only  the 
most  valuable  to  himself,  but  the  most  free 
and  favoured  to  a  female  engaged  in  the  af- 
fairs of  a  household  :  but  sometimes  he  must 
be  preaching  abroad.  As  to  his  civil  visits, 
I  hope  he  will  never  accept  of  an  invitation 
in  which  you  are  not  included :  but  circum- 


THE  CHARGE. 


299 


stances  may  render  it  proper  for  him  to  go, 
when  you  cannot  accompany  him;  and  in 
such  cases  you  will  not  wish  to  restrain  him. 
Above  all,  you  will  not  complain  of  his  ab- 
sence, when  you  know  that  he  is  not  idling 
away  his  time  in  lounging  calls  and  gossip- 
ing talk,  but  is  sedulously  engaged  in  his 
study.  While  he  is  endeavouring  to  do  jus- 
tice to  his  intended  subjects,  and  resolved  not 
to  offer  to  the  Lord  that  which  costs  him  no- 
thing— you  will  even  aid  his  people  and  the 
public,  by  doing  all  in  your  power  to  secure 
him  from  the  disturbance  of  thoughtless  in- 
truders. 

A  long-standing  connexion  does  credit  both 
to  the  pastor  and  the  church:  but  ministers 
become,  not  unfrequently,  uneasy,  and  as  the 
expression  is — moveable.  It  has  been  sup- 
posed by  some,  that  there  is  an  unusual  num- 
ber of  these  moveables  in  our  day  :  and  hence 
the  late  Andrew  Fuller,  by  a  rough,  but 
striking  metaphor,  observed,  in  a  letter  pub- 
lished since  his  death,  that  many  of  our 
modern  preachers  seemed  stung  by  the  gad 
fly.  I  fear  that  this  powerful  stinger  is  some- 
times a  near  relation.  Not  that  I  throw  the 
blame  always  upon  the  wife — we  know  the 
composition  of  many  ministers  too  well :  but 
we  also  have  seen  enough  occasionally  on 
her  side,  to  justify  our  admonishing  you  to 
beware  of  an  unsettled  and  roving  spirit ;  or 
of  becoming  too  sensitive  to  the  difficulties 
that  may  arise  in  your  husband's  residence. 

In  every  situation  there  are  trials.  We 
are  acquainted  with  those  in  our  present  cir- 
cumstances, and  they  press  us  ;  but  those  of 
a  new  condition  are  unfelt,  and  even  un- 
known :  yet  they  may  be  equally,  and  even 
more  numerous  and  painful.  When  a  man 
changes  often,  there  is  danger  of  his  getting, 
not  only  the  character,  but  the  habit  of  a 
changeling :  and  a  rolling  stone  gains  no 
moss:  and  a  tree  always  transplanting  cannot 
radicate  so  as  to  be  firm,  vigorous,  and  fruit- 
ful. We  have  known  ministers  who,  yield- 
ing to  mistaken  views,  or  present  impres- 
sions, have  stepped  out  of  their  place ;  and 
left  not  only  their  comfort,  but  their  useful- 
ness behind  them.  Take  heed,  therefore, 
how  you  in  any  way  contribute  to  this  evil. 
You  should  hardly  let  your  preference,  if  you 
have  one,  be  known,  even  to  your  husband, 
while  he  is  endeavouring  sincerely  to  as- 
certain what  the  will  of  God  is,  concerning 
him. 

His  reputation,  too,  will  affect  his  useful- 
ness. And  how  much  does  this  depend  upon 
you !  From  your  affection  you  will  be  eager 
to  extol  him,  and  perhaps  be  angry  with  those 
who  do  not  join  in  your  partial  applause.  But 
let  me  whisper  a  more  excellent  way.  In 
the  Protestant  churches  of  Hungary,  they 
degrade  from  his  office  the  pastor,  whose  wife 
indulges  herself  in  cards,  dancing,  or  any  pub- 
lic amusement,  that  bespeaks  a  lover  of  the 


world,  rather  than  a  Christian  matron.  This 
severity  springs  from  the  supposition,  that  he 
should  not  have  chosen  such  a  consort;  or 
that  she,  having  promised  obedience,  would 
not  thus  act  without  his  approbation  or  per- 
mission. If  no  law  of  this  kind  is  known 
among  us,  the  spirit  of  it  is  commonly  felt 
and  expressed.  Ministers  are  always  in  a 
measure  blamed  for  the  defects  and  faults  of 
their  wives:  the  very  pity  that  is  sometimes 
kindly  expressed  on  their  behalf,  is  construc- 
tively a  sort  of  censure.  He  who  acts  im- 
prudently and  improperly  in  one  case — 
especially  if  it  be  a  matter  of  importance, 
will  be  judged  of  by  it,  in  other  things — per- 
haps in  all.  It  is  often  said  that  ministers, 
though  they  have  the  best  opportunities  of 
selection,  and  are  under  the  greatest  obliga- 
tions to  make  a  wise  choice,  are  commonly 
betrayed  into  alliances  the  most  ineligible. 
The  reflection  is  not  a  little  invidious ;  and 
is  by  far  too  general.  I  have  the  happiness 
of  knowing  many  most  agreeable  and  very 
important  exceptions.  And  I  am  fully  per- 
suaded that  you,  my  respected  friend^  will 
be  a  striking  addition  to  the  number.  You 
have  it  in  your  power  to  be  so — you  have  it 
in  your  disposition.  It  is  your  aim — and  it 
will  be  your  attainment,  to  dignify  your  sta- 
tion, and  reflect  honour  on  the  judgment, 
taste,  and  piety  of  your  husband. 

And  be  encouraged  to  go  forward.  You 
will  not  lose  your  reward.  You  may  not 
make  a  splendid  figure  in  history.  You  must 
not  expect,  though  so  closely  related  to  him, 
to  gain  the  same  distinction  and  notice  as  a 
popular  minister  will  obtain.  While  he  is 
exalted  by  his  office,  you  are  left  to  move 
chiefly  in  scenes  of  comparative  privacy. 
Your  duties  are  regular,  sober,  unstriking; 
and  furnish  few  materials  for  common  pane- 
gyric. Yet  even  this  very  seeming  disad- 
vantage turns  to  your  account.  It  serves  to 
raise  your  worth;  and  to  promote  and  display 
the  purity  of  your  motive.  You  can  go  on 
with  patient  continuance  in  well  doing,  with- 
out the  excitement  of  publicity,  or  the  claps 
of  the  multitude. 

Nor  will  you  be  always  undistinguished. 
Your  day  is  coming.  You  will  share  in  the 
revelation  of  Jesus  Christ,  when  every  one 
will  have  praise  of  God  according  to  their 
concern  to  please  him,  and  not  according  to 
the  present  distributions  of  fame.  And  even 
now  you  are  proving  what  is  that  good  and 
acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  God.  Even 
now  your  duties  are  all  important  and  indis- 
pensable. Even  now,  in  the  convictions  of 
reason  and  wisdom,  you  are  approved  and 
ennobled.  The  heart  of  your  husband  safely 
trusts  in  you ;  so  that  he  hath  no  need  of 
spoil :  you  will  do  him  good,  and  not  evil,  all 
the  days  of  your  life.  Your  children  will 
rise  up  and  call  you  blessed.  Your  domestics 
will  thank  God  that  even  they  came  under 


300 


THE  CHARGE. 


your  kind  and  pious  care.  Your  neighbours 
will  commend  you.  The  church  and  all  your 
religious  connexions  will  honour  and  love 
you.  And  God,  even  your  own  God,  will 
bless  you.  He  who  has  redeemed  you  by  the 
death  of  his  Son,  and  has.  called  you  by  his 
grace:  He  to  whom  you  have  dedicated 
yourself,  both  in  single  and  social  life,  saying, 
Lord,  I  am  thine,  save  me — He  keeps  a  book 
of  remembrance :  He  forgets  not  your  work 
of  faith  and  labour  of  love  :  He  accepts  you 
and  your  services  in  the  Beloved ;  and  in  his 
favour  your  horn  shall  be  exalted. 

— And  this  consolatory  assurance,  my  es- 
teemed friend,  you  will  need.  Your  station 
has,  indeed,  its  advantages,  which  it  would 
be  ungrateful  to  overlook.  Your  intellectual, 
moral,  and  spiritual  privileges  are  above 
those  of  many.  You  have  frequent  access  to 
edifying  company.  You  have  the  entertain- 
ment and  profit  of  books.  You  have  the  ha- 
bitual presence  of  one  whose  lips  keep  know- 
ledge. His  education  and  acquisitions  prepare 
him  for  instructive,  and  improving  conversa- 
tion. His  function  calls  him  to  a  regular  life, 
exempt  from  the  bustle  and  competitions  of 
the  world ;  and  is  every  way  friendly  to  vir- 
tue and  sensibility.  His  employment  and  his 
studies  tend  to  soften,  and  refine,  and  elevate 
his  mind :  while  the  extreme  value  of  cha- 
racter to  his  profession,  is  a  spur  to  excel- 
lency, and  a  pledge  of  good  deportment.  You 
have  the  honour  of  being  connected,  not  only 
with  a  man  of  grace,  but  "  a  man  of  God ;" 
not  only  with  one  who  serves  him,  but  serves 
at  the  altar ;  and  fills  an  office,  as  a  preacher 
of  the  gospel,  which  an  angel  might  be  in- 
duced to  envy. 

But  the  honour  and  the  advantages  have 
their  counterbalancings.  I  hope  you  have 
counted  the  cost;  and  instead  of  complaining 
of  the  difficulties  before  you,  are  determined 
to  be  the  more  circumspect;  and  the  more 
prayerful — constantly  seeking  fresh  supplies 
of  that  grace  which  alone  is  sufficient  for  you 
in  all  your  duties,  and  in  all  your  trials. 

And  trials  you  must  not  expect  to  escape. 
From  envy  or  ignorance  you  may  often  be 
misjudged  and  misrepresented:  for  persons 
who  act  upon  principle,  especially  in  peculiar 
situations,  cannot  be  comprehended  by  those, 
"  who  walk  as  men ;"  and  people  are  always 
more  ready  to  be  censorious  than  to  be  candid, 
in  what  they  do  not  understand.  Nothing  is 
more  uncertain  than  the  applause  of  the  reli- 
gious multitude.  Your  husband,  now  ca- 
ressed, may  be  neglected.  His  place,  now 
crowded,  may  be  thinned  of  its  attendants  by 
one  far  his  inferior — unless  in  novelty,  and 
lungs.  Some  Diotrephes  may  love  to  have 
the  pre-eminence,  and  prate  against  him  with 
malicious  words.  A  perverse  spirit  may  be  . 
mingled  in  the  midst  of  a  peaceful' people. 
The  Antinomian  leaven  may  corrupt  the  pu-  : 
rity,  and  mar  the  prosperity  of  the  church —  1 


:  And  at  the  discovery  of  his  perplexity  and 
distress,  a  sword  also  may  pierce  through 
your  own  soul. 

The  calling  of  your  husband  exposes  him 
to  temptations;  and  he  may  be  injured  by 
them.  He  may  yield  to  vain  imaginations, 
and  high  thoughts,  that  exalt  themselves ;  and 
give  up  the  simplicity  there  is  in  Christ  Je- 
sus. If  he  does  not  embrace  dangerous  errors, 
he  may  be  enticed  into  some  peculiarities, 
and  injure  his  influence  by  some  religious 
freaks  and  vagaries.  He  may  be  found  among 
the  prophets.  Instead  of  preaching  repent- 
ance towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  having  a  word  in  season 
for  him  that  is  weary :  he  may  employ  him- 
self in  breaking  open  the  seals,  and  blowing 
the  trumpets,  and  pouring  out  the  vials  of  the 
Apocalypse.  The  spiritual  man  may  be  mad. 
Popular  applause  (for  as  the  fining-pot  for 
silver,  and  the  furnace  for  gold,  so  is  a  man 
to  his  praise)  may  elevate  him  into  pride  and 
arrogance.  Entertained  and  idolized  as  a 
very  agreeable  and  clever  companion,  he  may 
grow  weary  of  the  tameness  of  ordinary  life ; 
and  disrelish  home ;  and  leave  you  to  serve 
alone  in  the  cares  of  a  rising  family — I  dare 
not  suppose  any  thing  further — yet  what 
changes  have  we  witnessed  in  a  course  of 
years !    Lord,  what  is  man ! 

— But  it  cannot  be  concealed  that  he  is 
frail  and  mortal.  You  may  have  to  pray, 
"  Lord,  behold  he  whom  Thou  lovest  is  sick." 
You  may  be  called  to  the  trying  alternative 
of  leaving  a  helpless  babe,  to  accompany  the 
father  who  journeys  for  health.  You  may  have 
to  watch  at  the  side  of  the  couch  of  infirm- 
ity, and  of  the  bed  of  languishing.  You  may 
have  to  faint  at  the  stillness  of  a  dying  hour  ; 
and  only  revive  to  learn  that — the  guide  of 
your  youth — the  arm  of  your  support — the 
comforter  that  should  relieve  your  soul,  is 
gone — and  the  place  that  once  knew  him, 
will  know  him  no  more  for  ever — his  usual 
seat — his  favourite  walk — the  sacred  desk 
where  yet  his  image  seems  to  dwell — 

You  may  not  only  be  left  a  widow.  You 
may  be  surrounded  with  bereaved  children ; 
and  have  to  struggle  with  hardships — per-  , 
haps  penury — perhaps  neglect.  Perhaps  you 
may  be  destined,  like  many  who  have  gone 
before  you,  to  learn  by  experience  the  little 
posthumous  generosity  and  kindness  there 
is,  towards  the  remnants  of  those  who  have 
worn  out  life  in  the  service  of  the  religious 
public.  "Is  this  Naomi?" — "Call  me  not 
Naomi — call  me  Marah — for  the  Almighty 
hath  dealt  very  bitterly  with  me — I  went  out 
full—" 

— Yet  some  true  friendship  will  be  found. 
Some  will  show  kindness  to  his  house  for 
Jonathan's  sake.  There  are  the  gray-headed, 
who  are  saying,  "I  have  been  young  and 
now  am  old,  yet  I  have  never  seen  the  right- 
eous forsaken,  or  his  seed  begging  bread." — 


THE  CHARGE. 


301 


Even  in  the  cloudy  and  dark  day,  when  the 
eye  pours  out  tears  unto  God,  he  will  be  your 
refuge  and  strength ;  a  very  present  help  in 
trouble.  Your  departed  friend,  when  dying, 
heard  him  say,  though  you  could  not :  "  Leave 
thy  fatherless  children,  I  will  preserve  them 
alive ;  and  let  thy  widow  trust  in  me."  And 
He  is  faithful  who  promised.  Lean  upon  his 
word — and  you  shall  find  him  to  be  a  "  Fa- 
ther of  the  fatherless — and  a  judge  of  the 
widows  in  his  holy  habitation." 

— And  if,  while  feeling  the  attraction  of 
your  now  glorified  partner,  who  is  waiting 


to  receive  you  to  himself,  you  should  yet 
linger  long  in  this  vale  of  tears,  He  who  has 
delivered  will  deliver.  He  will  guide  you 
with  his  counsel ;  and  when  you  approach  the 
end  of  your  journey,  He  will  hear  your  prayer 
of  faith — "  Cast  me  not  off"  in  the  time  of  old 
age,  forsake  me  not  when  my  strength  fail- 
eth — Thou,  who  hast  shown  me  great  and 
sore  troubles,  shalt  quicken  me  again;  and 
bring  me  up  again  from  the  dust  of  the  earth. 
Thou  shalt  increase  my  greatness,  and  com- 
fort me  on  every  side."   "  And  the  days  of 

THY  MOURNING  SHALL  BE  ENDED." 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE : 


A  SERMON, 

PREACHED  ON  A  MARRIAGE  OCCASION. 
BY  WILLIAM  JAY. 


"  Husbands,  love  your  Wives,  and  be  not  bitter  against  them." 
"  Husbands,  love  your  Wives,  even  as  Cbrist  also  loved  the  Church,  and  gave  himself  for  it."— Paul. 
"  True  greatness  is  always  tender  and  sympathising."— Lav ater. 


PREFACE. 

"  Doing  nothing  by  partiality" — said  Paul  to  his  son  Timothy.  If  Ministers  would  ob- 
serve this  charge,  they  must  bring  forward  the  doctrine,  the  experience,  and  the  practice 
of  the  Christian  system,  equally — or  at  least  proportionately.  Circumstances  may  indeed 
vary.  The  day  in  which  we  live,  the  zeal  of  false  teachers,  the  ignorance  or  tendency  of  a 
congregation,  may  occasionally  require  a  more  full  and  frequent  enforcement  of  one  of  these 
parts,  than  of  the  other  two :  but  neither  of  them  must  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  our  preaching — provided  we  wish  to  "speak  unto  the  people  all  the  words  of  this  life" — 
and  to  preserve  our  hearers  from  legality,  enthusiasm,  and  Antinomianism.  For  each  of 
these  evils  greatly  arises  from  the  too  exclusive  treatment  of  each  of  these  three  divisions 
of  theology — Antinomianism,  growing  out  of  mere  doctrinal — enthusiasm,  out  of  mere  ex- 
perimental— and  legality,  out  of  mere  practical  preaching. 

When  the  Author,  if  he  may  be  excused  a  reference  to  himself,  quite  a  youth,  first  went 
to  London,  and  was  all  anxiety  to  hear  the  preachers  of  the  famed  metropolis — he  was  told 
by  a  friend,  if  he  wished  to  hear  a  good  doctrinal  sermon,  he  must  hear  ;  if  an  experi- 
mental, he  must  hear  ;  and  if  a  practical,  he  must  hear  .  And  he  well  remem- 
bers simply  asking,  "  JBut  is  there  no  minister  here  who  preaches  all  these  ?  I  should  rather 
hear  him." 

This  mode,  he  is  conscious,  he  has  always  aimed  and  endeavoured  to  follow  himself :  and 
by  this  criterion  he  is  willing  to  be  judged — not  indeed  by  an  occasional  hearer — but  by  his 
regular  and  constant  attendants.  The  following  discourse,  therefore,  is  not  to  be  taken  as  a 
specimen  of  his  preaching,  but  as  a  part ;  the  propriety  and  usefulness  of  which,  are  to  be 
viewed  in  alliance  with  other  parts,  and  in  harmony  with  the  whole. 

— A  minister,  who,  like  Epaphras,  would  "stand  perfect  and  complete  in  all  the  will  of 
God,"  must  inculcate  the  relative  duties — 

— And  he  will  find  his  advantage  in  enforcing  them  connectedly.  Each  party  will  the 
better  receive — especially  admonition  and  reproof;  when  the  corresponding  party  is  ad- 
dressed at  the  same  time,  and  in  the  same  manner :  because  it  will  show  that  the  preacher 
has  no  private  aim ;  and  is  no  respecter  of  persons. 

The  Apostles .  invariably  adopted  this  method.  If  they  addressed  servants,  they  always 
addressed  masters.  If  they  exhorted  children,  they  always  exhorted  parents  also.  It  was 
the  same  with  regard  to  the  conjugal  relations. 

The  Author  observed  this  example  himself  some  years  ago,  when  he  preached  and  pub- 
lished a  Sermon  on  "The  Mutual  Duties  of  Husbands  and  Wives."  A  discourse  which  he 
hopes  has  not  been  without  its  usefulness  in  not  a  few  instances.  And  it  was  this  thought 
that  induced  him  to  add  this  discourse  to  the  foregoing  Charge.  He  allows,  this  case  is  not 
perfectly  similar  to  the  former ;  for  then,  as  the  Charge  regarded  the  Wife  of  a  minister,  the 
Sermon  should  have  respected  the  minister  himself.  Yet  the  Sermon  is  not  only  addressed 
to  Husbands,  who  have  always  many  things  in  common  with  each  other;  but  it  is  founded 
on  words,  which,  originally,  if  not  spoken  exclusively,  were  spoken  peculiarly  to  Levites — 
an  order  of  men,  not  always,  perhaps,  the  most  perfect — here. 

If  the  Sermon  produced  some  clamour  after  the  delivery ;  so  it  may  in  the  perusal.  But 
it  is  easy  to  conclude  from  what  quarter  the  complaining  will  come — They  never  feel  the 
reflection,  who  are  perfectly  innocent  of  the  Charge. 

Bath;  December  1, 1829. 

302 


SERMON. 


And  this  have  ye  done  again,  covering  the  al- 
tar of  the  Lord  -with  tears,  with  -weeping;  and 
■with  crying  out,  insomuch  that  he  regardeth 
not  the  offering  any  more,  or  receiveth  it  with 
good-will  at  your  hand.  Yet  ye  say,  Where- 
fore ?  Because  the  Lord  hath  been  witness  be- 
tween thee  and  the  wife  of  thy  youth,  against 
whom  thou  hast  dealt  treacherously :  yet  is 
she  thy  companion,  and  the  wife  of  thy  cove- 
nant. And  did  not  he  make  one  ?  Yet  had 
he  the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  And  wherefore 
one  ?  That  he  might  seek  a  godly  seed. 
Therefore  take  heed  to  your  spirit,  and  let 
none  deal  treacherously  against  the  wife  of 
his  youth. — Malachi  ii.  13 — 15. 

It  has  been  the  lot  of  some  very  good  men, 
to  live  in  very  bad  times.  And  this  was  the 
case  with  Malachi.  Even  then,  indeed,  some 
were  found,  "who  feared  the  Lord,  and 
thought  upon  his  name."  And  they  were 
graciously  noticed  and  distinguished  by  him 
— "  They  shall  be  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  in  that  day  when  I  shall  make  up  my 
jewels;  and  I  will  spare  them  as  a  man 
spareth  his  own  son  that  serveth  him." 

These,  however,  were  only  so  many  excep- 
tions from  the  multitude;  and  resembled  a 
few  small  luminaries,  that  serve  to  render  the 
darkness  between  the  more  palpable.  Ac- 
cording to  the  language  of  our  Prophet,  the 
degeneracy  was  complete.  From  the  crown 
of  the  head  to  the  sole  of  the  foot,  there  was 
no  soundness.  The  young  and  the  old  ;  the 
rich  and  the  poor  ;  rulers  and  subjects ;  priests 
and  people — were  all  deeply  revolted  from 
God. 

In  such  a  corrupt  state  of  society,  the  office 
of  a  minister  is  not  a  very  enviable,  or  easy 
one.  It  is  trying  to  censure  and  condemn ; 
and  he  that  is  not  faithful  to  his  conscience 
and  commission,  will  fail  under  the  trial,  and 
prophesy  smooth  things,  because  the  multi- 
tude love  to  have  it  so.  But  the  man  of  God, 
raised  above  the  love  of  fame,  and  the  dread 
of  frowns,  will  not  shun  "  to  declare  all  the 
counsel  of  God,"  "  warning  every  man,  and 
teaching  every  man  in  all  wisdom,  that  he 
may  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ 
Jesus." 

The  connexions  of  life,  the  sources  of  so 
much  virtue  and  sin,  happiness  and  misery ; 
are  numerous  and  various:  and  when  properly 
estimated,  they  are  not  to  be  judged  of  by 
their  publicity,  and  elevation,  and  splendour; 
but  by  the  constancy  of  their  influence,  the 
extent  of  their  operation,  and  the  importance 
of  their  effects.  The  most  ordinary  relations, 


therefore,  are  the  most  fundamental.  These 
are  the  domestic.  Communities  originate 
from  families ;  and  depend  upon  them :  and 
the  quality  of  the  one  must  partake  largely 
of  the  attributes  of  the  other.  In  religious 
concerns,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  with  Phi- 
lip Henry,  that  "  a  man  is  really  what  he  is 
relatively."  We  are  aware  that  there  is 
much  of  instinct  in  the  relative  affections; 
and  that  they  do  not  strike  far  into  moral 
character.  The  existence  of  them  alone,  is 
not  a  sufficient  proof  of  piety.  But  it  is  other- 
wise with  the  absence  of  them.  This  is  de- 
cisive evidence  against  a  person.  If  he  is 
bad  at  home,  he  is  bad  every  where.  If  he 
is  a  bad  father,  and  a  bad  husband,  he  cannot 
be  a  good  man.  And,  therefore,  when  a 
very  eminent  minister  was  asked  whether  he 
thought  a  certain  individual  was  truly  pious, 
he  replied,  "I  cannot  tell — I  never  lived 
with  him." 

Hence  a  preacher  that  would  make  full 
proof  of  his  ministry,  must  enter  the  scenery 
of  families,  and  inquire  how  matters  stand 
between  masters  and  servants;  parents  and 
children ;  wives  and  husbands. 

And  it  is  here,  we  find  Malachi.    He  is 
dealing  with  the  latter  relationship  ;  and  he 
speaks  boldly  as  he  ought  to  speak — "  And 
this  have  ye  done  again,  covering  the  altar 
of  the  Lord  with  tears,  with  weeping,  and 
with  crying  out,  insomuch  that  he  regardeth 
not  the  offering  any  more,  or  receiveth  it 
with  good-will  at  your  hand.    Yet  ye  say, 
Wherefore?    Because  the  Lord  hath  been 
witness  between  thee  and  the  wife  of  thy 
youth,  against  whom  thou  hast  dealt  treacher- 
ously:  yet  is  she  thy  companion,  and  the  wife 
of  thy  covenant.   And  did  not  he  make  one? 
Yet  had  the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  And  where- 
fore one  ?    That  he  might  seek  a  godly  seed. 
Therefore  take  heed  to  your  spirit,  and  let 
none  deal  treacherously  against  the  wife  of 
his  youth." 
Let  us  attend  to  four  articles. 
The  subject  of  complaint. 
The  aggravation  of  the  offence. 
The  condemnation  of  the  transgres- 
sor. 

The  means  of  prevention. 
First.  The  subject  of  complaint.  The 
Charge  is  against  unkind  husbands;  and  con- 
sists in  this — That  they  imbittered  the  lives 
of  those  they  ought  to  have  loved  and  che- 
rished; so  that  they  caused  them,  when 
they  approached  the  sanctuary  of  God,  in- 
stead of  rejoicing  before  him,  as  his  service 
303 


304  THE  WIFE'S 

required,  to  break  forth  into  the  most  passion- 
ate expressions  of  grief.  "This  have  ye 
done,  covering  the  altar  of  the  Lord  with 
tears,  with  weeping,  and  with  crying  out." 

Who  does  not  here  call  to  mind  the  his- 
tory of  Hannah  ?  "  And  as  she  went  to  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  so  her  adversary  provoked 
her  much,  for  to  make  her  fret,  because  the 
Lord  had  shut  up  her  womb — Therefore  she 
wept  and  did  not  eat — and  she  was  in  bitter- 
ness of  soul,  and  prayed  unto  the  Lord,  and 
wept  sore."  But  you  say,  "  This  was  not 
occasioned  by  Elkanah.  He  was  an  attached 
and  an  attentive  husband."  It  is  true,  it  was 
not  occasioned  by  him  immediately ;  but  it 
was  so  really.  Had  Hannah  been,  as  she 
ought  to  have  been,  his  only  wife,  the  dis- 
tress would  have  been  prevented;  and  she 
would  not  have  found  herself  in  alliance  with 
a  fellow-wife,  that  delighted  to  insult  and  ag- 
gravate her  disappointment. 

And  you  will  observe,  that  this  was  one  of 
the  ways,  in  which  the  husbands,  here  com- 
plained of,  converted  the  very  devotion  of 
their  wives  into  mourning,  and  made  the  al- 
tar of  God,  not  a  place  of  gladness  and  praise, 
but  of  refuge  and  appeal.  They  added  to 
their  number ;  and  thus  vexed  and  degraded 
their  wives,  by  reducing  them  from  peace  to 
a  state  of  contention ;  from  supremacy  to  jea- 
lousy and  rivalship ;  from  being  the  sole  ob- 
jects of  attraction,  to  share  divided,  dimi- 
nished, precarious  regards. 

Though  polygamy  had  been  long  practised, 
it  was  never  justified.  The  very  tolerance 
of  it,  in  every  instance,  showed  most  clearly 
and  strongly,  by  the  effects,  that  it  was  a  de- 
viation from  rectitude.  That  which  is  irre- 
concilable to  the  welfare  of  domestic  life, 
could  never  obtain  the  approbation  of  Him 
who  ordained  that  state,  not  only  for  the  pur- 
pose of  purity,  but  of  peace  and  happiness. 
The  evils  arising  from  the  usage  itself,  there- 
fore, had  so  far  checked  it,  that  in  Judea,  at 
the  time  of  our  Saviour,  we  meet  with  no  in- 
stances of  it.  It  was  also  forbidden  among 
the  Greeks  and  Romans.  And  this  accounts, 
as  Paley  observes,  for  our  finding  no  particu- 
lar enactment  against  it  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment ;  but  it  is  said,  "  To  avoid  fornication, 
let  every  man  have  his  own  wife — not 
wives;  and  let  every  wife  have  her  own 
husband." 

The  pleasure  of  God  also  appears  in  pro- 
portioning the  actual  number  of  males  and 
females.  There  is,  indeed,  some  little  ine- 
quality in  the  births  of  these ;  but  the  fact 
strengthens  the  reasoning.  If  there  are  born 
more  males  than  females,  by  one  in  nineteen, 
the  level  is  restored  by  the  superior  casual- 
ties to  which  the  male  sex  is  exposed  ;  and 
the  balance  remaining,  allows  but  one  woman 
to  one  man.  And  what  can  show  the  will  of 
God  more  decisively  than  his  conduct  1  If 
we  go  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  world,  no 


ADVOCATE. 

conceivable  reason  can  be  given,  why,  if  po- 
lygamy was  to  be  continued  to  the  human 
race,  it  should  not  have  commenced  with  it 
But  hear  our  Prophet— "And  did  not  he 
make  one]"  One  Eve  for  one  Adam  ?  Adam 
even  in  Paradise  had  one  wife  only — This 
oneness,  therefore,  could  not  have  been 
deemed  a  confinement,  but  a  regulation  be- 
coming the  most  perfect  state — "  Yet  had  he 
the  residue  of  the  Spirit" — and  could  there- 
fore have  made  another  partner  as  fair  and 
lovely  as  Eve  herself  was — "  And  wherefore 
one?  That  he  might  see  a  godly  seed" — 
And  where  is  such  a  pious  offspring  likely  to 
be  found  1  Can  children  be  brought  up  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord — in  the 
presence  of  the  lawlessness  of  one  sex,  and 
the  debasement  of  the  other  7  In  the  resi- 
dence of  oppression  7  Sensuality  7  Passion'? 
Artifice]  Hypocrisies'!  In  the  midst  of 
divided  and  opposing  interests'!  Dissen- 
sions? Swellings'!  Tumults?  "Where  envy 
and  strife  is,  there  is  confusion  and  every 
evil  work." 

But  another  of  the  evils  here  reprobated, 
was  the  putting  away  their  wives  when  they 
chose  to  dislike  them.  Unless  in  one  case, 
conceded  by  reason  and  revelation,  the  mar- 
riage relation  is  indissoluble.  Hence,  says 
our  Saviour,  in  answer  to  the  question  of  the 
Pharisees,  "Is  it  lawful  for  a  man  to  put 
away  his  wife  for  every  cause  ?  Have  ye  not 
read,  that  He  who  made  them  at  the  begin- 
ning made  them  male  and  female ;  and  said, 
For  this  cause  a  man  shall  leave  his  father 
and  mother,  and  cleave  to  his  wife ;  and  they 
twain  shall  be  one  flesh]  What  therefore 
God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put 
asunder."  Upon  which  they  said  unto  him, 
"  Why  then  did  Moses  command  to  give  a 
writing  of  divorcement,  and  to  put  her 
away  7"  He  said  unto  them,  "  Moses,  be- 
cause of  the  hardness  of  your  hearts,  suffered 
you  to  put  away  your  wives :  but  from  the 
beginning  it  was  not  so.  And  I  say  unto  you, 
whosoever  shall  put  away  his  wife,  except 
it  be  for  fornication,  and  shall  marry  another, 
committeth  adultery:  and  whosoever  mar- 
rieth  her  which  is  put  away,  doth  commit 
adultery." 

This  exception  being  made,  "The  Lord 
God  of  Israel  saith,  that  he  hateth  putting 
away."  Cases  of  hardship  bearing  peculiarly 
on  individuals,  will  doubtless  now  and  then 
occur;  but  such  occasional  evils  are  more 
than  compensated  by  the  advantages  of  the 
limitation.  For  we  should  consider  what 
would  be,  not  the  personal  and  immediate, 
but  the  general  and  the  ultimate  tendency 
and  effects  of  larger  permission.  Whatever 
other  reasons  for  divorce  were  allowed,  many 
would  be  sure  to  live  up  to  them ;  and  licen- 
tiousness would  soon  also  require  yet  more 
allowance.  This  was  seen  in  France.  When, 
after  the  Revolution,  husbands  were  permit- 


THE  WIFE'S 

ted  to  put  away  their  wives  for  unsuitable- 
ness  of  temper,  mutual  dislike,  perverseness, 
and  other  things;  bad  men  availed  them- 
selves of  every  excuse  to  disengage  them- 
selves from  restraint ;  and  dissoluteness  and 
misery  spread  among  thousands,  who  would 
otherwise  have  been  satisfied  with  their  con- 
dition. For  people  soon  acquiesce  in  what 
they  know  to  be  unalterable ;  and  their  des- 
tiny, by  habit,  is  easily  moulded  into  choice. 
They  who  are  conscious  that  they  cannot 
separate,  will  feel  that  it  is  their  mutual  in- 
terest to  forbear,  to  give  up,  and  to  accom- 
modate. To  which  we  may  add,  that  when 
a  connexion  is  formed  for  life,  much  more 
prudence  and  care  are  likely  to  be  exercised 
in  forming  it,  than  if  it  were  terminable  at 
pleasure. 

We  cannot  be  censured  for  these  remarks. 
Not  only  has  our  subject  brought  them  before 
us ;  but  they  are  very  worthy  of  our  atten- 
tion ;  and  we  cannot  help  observing,  that  the 
exclusion  of  polygamy  and  the  prohibition 
of  divorce — confining  marriage  to  one  pair, 
and  rendering  the  union  indissoluble — have 
done  more  to  promote  and  secure  the  morals 
and  welfare  of  the  community,  than  all  the 
institutions,  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  le- 
gislators have  ever  established.  Nor  can  we 
be  sufficiently  thankful,  that  in  these  import- 
ant concerns,  the  laws  of  our  country  fall  in 
with  the  authority  of  God. 

But  though,  in  this  highly  favoured  land, 
neither  of  these  modes  of  domestic  persecu- 
tion is  open  to  a  husband ;  there  are  many 
other  ways  in  which  he  may  "  cover  the  altar 
of  the  Lord  with  tears,  and  with  weeping, 
and  crying  out." 

He  cannot  safely  take  to  himself  more 
wives  than  one — But  to  that  one  he  may 
prove  unfaithful ;  and  basely  transfer  to  an- 
other, the  affection  alone  due  to  herself. 

He  cannot  legally  put  away  his  wife — But 
by  oppressive  and  cruel,  degrading  and  in- 
sulting conduct,  he  may  force  her  to  with- 
draw; and  then  falsely  plead  and  use  the 
refusal  to  live  with  him,  which  he  himself 
designedly  produced. 

1  know  not  how  to  refer  to  bodily  violence 
— "  No  man  ever  yet  hateth  his  own  flesh, 
but  nourisheth  and  cherisheth  it." — But  is 
there  a  brute  in  human  shape  1  Is  there  a 
wretch,  miscalled  a  husband,  who  is  not 
ashamed  to  execute  what  the  preacher  is 
ashamed  even  to  intimate  1 

But  every  depth  of  disgrace,  every  exer- 
tion of  cruelty,  is  not  necessary  to  break 'a 
tender  heart,  or  to  crush  a  delicate  spirit. 
He  may  accomplish  his  work  by  studied 
neglect;  by  churlish  manners;  by  unkind 
language;  by  alienated  or  angry  looks.  A 
contemptuous  sneer  will  strike  a  death-chill 
into  every  feeling.  A  bitter  irony  will  sting 
like  a  scorpion,  and  leave  the  deadly  rankling 
behind. 

2Q  26* 


ADVOCATE.  305 

He  may  reduce  her  to  the  mortification  of 
seeing  him  restless  at  home ;  always  anxious 
to  contrive  or  excuse  absence,  instead  of 
dwelling  with  her  according  to  knowledge; 
and  fonder  of  any  company  than  the  society 
of  his  wife. 

He  may  deprive  her  of  her  needful  support 
and  comfort.  And  though  she  would  pa- 
tiently and  cheerfully  share  in  the  privations 
and  distress  brought  on  them  by  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  she  cannot  but  feel  grievously 
the  trial  of  liardships  and  straits  arising  solely 
from  idleness,  or  drunkenness,  or  gaming,  or 
licentiousness. 

He  may  wound  her,  by  withholding  from 
her  the  confidence  required  by  the  mutuality 
and  unity  of  the  relation — a  relation  that  al- 
lows nothing  to  be  concealed ;  nothing  to  be 
found  out  by  search  or  accident.  Yet  it  is 
not  a  very  uncommon  trial  for  a  wife,  unap- 
prised, unprepared,  to  be  plunged  from  gen- 
teel life  into  destitution  and  wo ;  while  she 
has  been  censured  for  living  in  a  style  she 
would  have  been  the  first  to  have  reduced, 
had  she  divined  the  event  that  rendered  it  a 
duty. 

We  cannot  do  justice  to  this  part  of  our 
subject.  The  causes  of  complaint  are  num- 
berless. But  we  must  not  avoid  adding — 
That  relative  trials  are  often  more  painful 
than  personal  ones — That  in  the  case  before 
us,  the  anguish  is  enhanced  by  the  nearness 
and  importance  of  the  quarter  from  which  it 
comes — and  That  it  is  frequently  increased 
by  secrecy  and  suppression — the  sufferer  be- 
ing denied  the  relief  of  pouring  her  sorrow 
even  perhaps  into  the  ear  of  friendship.  The 
heart  knows  the  bitterness.  The  groanings 
cannot  be  uttered.  But  let  us  pass  from  the 
complaint  to 

It  The  aggravation  of  the  offence. 
It  is  taken  from  the  character  of  the  ag- 
grieved. 

First:  "She  is  the  wife  of  thy  youth." 'The 
exemplification  is  derived  from  an  early  mar- 
riage :  and  the  reference  is  a  countenance  of 
the  usage.  Men  may  marry  when  they  please; 
but,  in  order  to  illustrate  the  force  of  this  re- 
lation, the  Scripture  does  not  notice  confede- 
racies of  profit;  bargains  of  conveniency; 
provisions  of  nursery-hood  for  infirmity,  and 
sickness,  and  death — the  only  connexion  to 
which  God  in  his  word  ever  alludes,  and  from 
which  he  reasons,  is  "  the  wife  of  youth." 

To  such  an  object  there  will  belong  a  pe- 
culiar affection.  It  is  the  first  attachment ; 
fresh,  simple,  and  undebased.  The  feelings 
strike  deeper,  and  root  firmer,  owing  to  ear- 
lier implantation  and  longer  growth.  The 
conformity  between  the  parties  is  more  full 
and  perfect ;  as  they  assimilate  into  the  quali- 
ties of  each  other  more  easily  while  soft  and 
pliant,  thanl  after  years  and  habitudes  have 
confirmed  them,  and  rendered  all  change  im- 
possible, or  difficult  and  irksome- 


306 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE. 


About  what  other  object,  when  taken 
away,  will  a  man's  memory  linger  so  long 
and  tenaciously,  as — the  image  of  the  wife 
of  his  youth  ?  Of  her  who  first  drew  into 
one  mighty  and  exquisite  feeling  all  the 
sympathies  of  his  heart?  Of  her  with  whom 
he  passed  the  delicious  season  of  virtuous 
courtship?  Of  her  who  inspired  him  with 
all  the  liveliness  and  enjoyment  of  hope  ? 
Of  her  who  first  made  him  sensible  of  the 
endearments  of  domestic  bliss  ?  Of  her  who 
first  by  the  cry  and  the  image  of  innocent 
helplessness  told  him  the  tenderness  of  the 
parental  relation  I  Of  her  on  whose  knee 
his  child  first  clasped  his  little  hands  to  pray  ? 
Of  her  whose  leaning  so  often  pressed  his 
arm,  in  his  way  to  the  house  of  God,  in  the 
walks  of  rural  excursion,  and  the  journey  of 
life  ? 

— And  canst  thou,  O  man,  overlook  all 
this  while  she  is  living?  What  if  the  charm 
that  lighted  up  the  blaze  of  attachment  be 
now  fading?  The  rose  could  not  always 
bloom:  but  surely  the  fragrance  remains. 
What  if  infirmities  more  suddenly  or  slowly 
begin  to  appear :  now  is  the  time  for  evincing 
and  displaying  a  more  grateful  and  unselfish 
affection.  Is  the  worth  of  years  to  be  for- 
gotten ?  Has  she  not  been  always  thy  mi- 
nistering spirit?  Has  not  thy  happiness  been 
dearer  to  her  than  her  own  ?  In  all  thy  afflic- 
tions, has  she  not  been  afflicted?  Perhaps 
in  giving  life,  or  watching  over  the  pain  and 
malady  of  thy  offspring,  she  has  impaired  her 
frame,  and  health  is  only  now  a  living  sacri- 
fice. Go  and  make  God  thine  example — "  I 
remember  Thee,  the  kindness  of  thy  youth, 
the  love  of  thine  espousal,  when  thou  wentest 
after  me  in  the  wilderness,  in  a  land  that 
was  not  sown." 

Secondly,  says  the  Prophet,  "Is  she  not 
thy  companion  ?"  This,  perhaps,  is  the  most 
lovely  and  becoming  idea  of  the  relation  that 
can  be  supplied.  She  is  not,  O  man,  thy  su- 
perior: she  is  not  thy  slave — thy  servant — 
thy  dependent.  She  is  indeed  a  help-mate ; 
so  art  thou — but  she  is  "  thy  companion." 

Yet,  as  a  companion,  she  is  very  distin- 
guishable from  every  other.  A  brother  or 
sister  is  a  companion ;  but  they  are  so  invo- 
luntarily— she  is  thy  companion  by  choice. 
Many  are  companions  for  a  while  ;  but  they 
are  separable  from  us,  and  our  intercourse 
may  be  reduced  to  correspondence — She  is 
thy  companion  for  life.  Let  other  compa- 
nions be  ever  so  intimate,  they  have  yet  their 
separate  allotments — she  is  thy  companion, 
so  as  to  have  no  interests  of  her  own,  but  is 
an  equal  sharer  in  all  the  cares  and  comforts 
of  thine. 

It  will  be  confessed,  that  there  are  some 
differences  between  the  male  and  the  female 
character,  produced  by  nature,  and  enlarged 
by  education.  But  the  very  differences  ren- 
der them  the  more  mutually  eligible  as  com- 


panions. The  defective  qualities  of  each  are 
provided  for  in  the  attributes  of  the  other. 
Both  excel ;  but  they  excel  in  their  own  way. 
He  is  more  characterized  by  thought;  she, 
by  sympathy  :  but  these  properties  demand 
and  aid  each  other.  The  eagerness,  the  sen- 
sitiveness, the  delicacy,  the  genius,  of  the 
female,  would  unnerve  the  man:  and  the' 
courage,  the  inflexibility,  the  severeness  of  the 
man,  would  unsex  the  female.  Nothing  can 
be  more  absurd  than  to  oppose  their  respect- 
ive claims;  nothing  more  injurious  than  to 
separate  them.  Let  their  peculiar  properties 
and  places  be  retained — and  all  will  be  found 
adaptation  and  order.  Let  them  be  associat- 
ed— and  all  will  be  found  harmony  and  com- 
pleteness. 

But  how  is  it  to  be  lamented  when  their 
companionship  is  not  carried  into  the  widest, 
noblest,  and  most  important  region  of  its  ex- 
ercise— I  mean  religion  ?  How  unmeet  is  it, 
while  one  goes  into  the  presence  of  God  by 
devotion,  for  the  other  to  stand  without,  till 
this  transaction  be  over  !  How  forceless  the 
petition  singly  signed,  while  the  voice  of  love 
and  union  cries,  "  If  two  of  you  shall  agree 
on  earth,  as  touching  any  thing  they  may 
ask,  it  shall  be  done  of  my  Heavenly  Father !" 
How  strange  and  unsightly  must  it  be  for  one 
of  these  associates  to  be  walking  the  way 
everlasting,  while  the  other  is  going  the  road 
to  death  !  How  hurtful  and  fatal  to  divide 
and  separate,  where,  weak  and  opposed  alone, 
they  need  every  mutual  encouragement  and 
assistance!  How  appalling  to  reflect,  that  the 
most  endearing  alliance  must  be  broken  up 
for  ever  at  the  termination  of  a  life  equally 
short  and  uncertain ! 

Husbands  and  wives!  never  forget  that 
you  are  moral  and  accountable  beings ;  and 
that  the  present  life  is  only  the  threshold  of 
existence.    Be  companions  in  faith  and  god- 
liness.   Walk  together  as  heirs  of  the  grace 
of  life.    Take  sweet  counsel  together,  and 
go  to  the  house  of  God  in  company.  Allure 
each  other  over  the  land  of  revelation  in  the 
length  and  breadth  thereof.    Mutually  sur- 
vey its  prospects,  admire  its  beauties,  and 
gather  of  its  flowers  and  fruits.  Encourage 
one  another  with  these  words ;  and  let  your 
hearts  be  comforted  and  knit  together  in  love 
unto  all  riches  of  the  full  assurance  of  under- 
standing to  the  acknowledgment  of  the  mys- 
tery of  God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ, 
in  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowledge — Then  your  children  will  not 
be  perplexed  by  contrary  counsels  and  exam- 
ples.   Then  you  will  be  lovely  in  life,  and  in 
death  not  divided.  Then  your  separation  will 
be  only  temporary ;  a  time  of  re-union  will 
come ;  and  the  intercourse  of  pure  and  per- 
fected friendship  will  be  renewed  for  ever. 

Thirdly :  "  She  is  the  wife  of  thy  covenant." 
Covenant  here  means  the  marriage  contract ; 
and  by  the  mention  of  this,  the  husband  is 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE. 


80? 


called  upon  to  remember  that  the  vows  of 
God  are  upon  him.  A  truly  virtuous  man 
will  feel  love  more  binding'  than  law ;  yet 
considering  human  frailty,  and  the  interests 
of  society,  it  is  well  to  be  bound  by  duty  as 
well  as  affection :  and  be  constrained,  if  we 
act  wrong',  not  only  to  violate  principle,  but 
obligation.  The  forms  and  rites  of  the  con- 
nubial engagement  may  vary  in  different  ages 
and  countries;  but  some  sanction  has  been 
always  required.  If  the  contract  be  not  di- 
rectly a  religious  transaction,  it  has  generally 
been  accompanied  and  enforced  by  religious 
sanctions.  And  surely  such  a  connexion  can 
never  be  rendered  too  solemn  and  too  sacred. 
It  is  the  most  awful  and  interesting  compact 
into  which  it  is  possible  to  enter.  Yet  there 
are  men  who  can  trifle  with  a  stipulation  so 
momentous ;  and  seem  to  forget  all  the  re- 
sponsibilities it  entails :  requiring  perhaps  at 
the  same  time  exact  fidelity  on  the  other 
side — as  if,  in  a  covenant,  both  the  parties 
were  not  equally  bound.  Did  these  men,  be- 
forehand, tell  the  persons  they  are  endea- 
vouring to  espouse,  how  they  designed  to 
treat  them;  or  did  they  refuse  to  pledge 
themselves  to  any  kind  of  agreeable  and  good 
behaviour  towards  them ;  they  would  act  an 
open  part  at  least ;  and  their  wives,  though 
chargeable  with  folly  in  venturing  to  ad- 
vance, would  yet  have  no  deceitfulness  to 
complain  of  But  when  a  man  has  voluntarily 
promised  and  bound  himself  by  oath,  he  is 
no  longer  at  liberty  to  behave  otherwise  than 
his  engagement  prescribes,  without  falsehood, 
perfidy,  perjury,  and  disgrace. 

He  that  does  not  verify  the  engagement, 
not  only  implied  but  expressed,  upon  which 
alone  the  heart  was  surrendered  to  him,  is  no 
better  than  a  seducer.  He  falsely  wins  con- 
fidence, basely  to  betray  it';  and  proclaims  him- 
self not  only  to  be  destitute  of  the  principles  of 
a  Christian,  but  the  honour  of  a  man  :  and  for 
want  of  common  honesty,  he  ought  to  be 
shunned  by  all  reputable  society.  Herod, 
though  he  was  grieved  at  his  promise,  yet 
would  not  refuse  to  ratify  it,  for  his  oath's 
sake.  Jephthah,  though  he  had  to  sacrifice 
his  own  daughter,  yet,  said  he,  "  I  have  open- 
ed my  mouth  unto  the  Lord,  and  I  cannot  go 
back."  A  good  man  sweareth  to  his  own 
hurt,  and  changeth  not."  And  we  know  who 
has  said,  "  When  thou  vowest  a  vow  unto 
God,  defer  not  to  pay  it ;  for  he  hath  no  plea- 
sure in  fools.  Pay  that  which  thou  hast 
vowed.  Better  is  it  that  thou  shouldest  not 
vow,  than  that  thou  shouldest  vow  and  not 
pay.  Suffer  not  thy  mouth  to  cause  thy  flesh 
to  sin ;  neither  say  thou  before  the  angel,  that 
it  was  an  error :  wherefore  should  God  be 
angry  at  thy  voice,  and  destroy  the  work  of 
thy  hands  V    Therefore  let  us  consider 

III.  The  condemnation  of  the  trans- 
gressor. Here  we  have  both  the  sentence 
— and  the  evidence  upon  which  it  is  adjudged. 


The  first  is  thus  expressed — "Tnsomuch 
that  he  regardeth  not  the  offering  any  more, 
or  receiveth  it  with  good  will  at  your  hand." 
And  is  this  a  light  thing  1  God  is  the  supreme 
good.  In  His  favour  is  life.  It  is  the  most 
delightful  consciousness  in  the  world  to  know 
that  we  are  accepted  of  him ;  and  to  have 
the  testimony  that  we  please  God.  But  all 
here  is  aversion,  rejection,  contempt.  "I 
will  have  no  communion  with  you.  I  hate 
not  only  your  sins — but  your  services." 

It  would  seem  surprising,  indeed,  that 
those  who  live  in  disobedience  to  his  com- 
mands, should  yet  be  found  attending  the 
worship  of  God  at  all:  for  there  is  much  in 
the  Dutch  proverb,  "  Praying  will  make  a 
man  leave  off  sinning,  or  sinning  will  make 
a  man  leave  off  praying."  But  the  heart  is 
deceitful  above  all  things,  as  well  as  desper- 
ately wicked :  and  the  inconsistiencies  it  is 
continually  putting  forth,  are  as  wonderful  as 
in  things  in  the  course  of  nature  or  order  of 
providence.  There  are  those  who  will  ob- 
serve the  form  of  godliness,  and  deny  the 
power  of  it.  There  are  those  who  will  sup- 
port the  cause  of  Christ  and  defraud  their 
tradesmen  :  who  will  regard  the  positive  or- 
dinances of  religion ;  and  neglect  its  moral 
requisitions :  who  will  value  the  ritual  part 
of  devotion,  and  violate  the  practical.  How 
many  are  godly  on  the  Sabbath,  and  worldly 
all  the  week!  Who  appear  saints  in  the 
house  of  God,  and  are  demons  in  their  own ! 
Are  there  not  some  who  even  maintain  morn- 
ing and  evening  service  in  their  families,  and 
yet  cover  the  altar  of  the  Lord  with  tears, 
and  with  weeping,  and  crying  out  T 

But  let  such  know  that  omission  is  prefer- 
able to  perversion.    And  let  them  "go  and 
learn  what  that  meaneth,  I  will  have  mercy 
and  not  sacrifice" — "  God  heareth  not  sinners ; 
but  if  any  man  be  a  worshipper  of  God,  and 
doeth  his  will,  him  he  heareth" — He  that 
stoppeth  his  ears  at  the  cry  of  the  poor,  he 
also  shall  cry  himself,  and  shall  not  be  heard. 
Hence  the  God  of  Israel  saith,  "  He  that 
killeth  an  ox,  is  as  if  he  slew  a  man  :  he  that 
sacrificeth  a  lamb,  as  if  he  cut  off  a  dog's  neck : 
he  that  offereth  an  oblation,  as  if  he  offered 
swine's  blood  :  he  that  burneth  incense,  as  if 
he  blessed  an  idol."    Wherefore  1  Were  not 
these  observances  of  His  own  appointment ! 
They  were.  But  He  loathed  them  when  they 
became  substitutes  for  moral  principle,  or 
connected  with  practices  which  he  had  con- 
demned.   Therefore,  says  he,  "Wash  ye, 
make  you  clean,  put  away  the  evil  of  your 
doings,  from  before  mine  eyes — Seek  justice ; 
relieve  the  oppressed ;  judge  the  fatherless; 
plead  for  the  widows — Come  now  and  let  us 
reason  together,  saith  the  Lord :  though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as 
snow ;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they 
shall  be  as  wool." 

Is  this  a  light  thing? — More  is  implied 


308 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE. 


than  is  expressed.  There  is  no  medium  be- 
tween non-acceptance  with  God,  and  con- 
demnation. If  we  are  not  in  his  favour,  we 
are  under  his  wrath.  And  who  can  stand 
before  Him  when  once  He  is  angry  1  The 
grand  question  is,  In  what  relation  are  we 
found  to  Him  ?  Is  He  our  friend  or  our  foe ! 
If  our  foe,  he  can  arm  all  creatures  against 
us:  he  can  operate  immediately  upon  our 
mind :  he  can  pursue  us  beyond  the  grave, 
which  screens  us  from  all  other  enemies; 
and,  after  he  hath  killed,  can  cast  into  Hell. 
He  that  judgeth  us  is  the  Lord — And  if  he 
be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  He  can 
make  all  things  work  together  for  our  good. 
They  whom  he  blesses  are  blessed :  and  they 
whom  he  curses  are  cursed :  and  none  can 
reverse  it 

And  is  this  a  light  thing  I  Wisdom  cries, 
Hide  not  thy  face  from  me :  put  not  thy  ser- 
vant away  in  anger.  There  be  many  that 
say,  Who  will  show  us  any  good  !  Lord,  lift 
Thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon 
me.  And,  to  heal  this  broken  heart ;  to 
soothe  every  sorrow ;  to  sweeten  every  com- 
fort; to  raise  me  above  the  fear  of  every 
evil ;  say  unto  my  soul,  I  am  thy  salvation. 

But,  secondly,  who  are  these  !  In  order 
to  punish  legally,  there  must  be  not  only 
guilt,  but  conviction;  and  there  is  no  con- 
viction without  evidence,  without  witness. 
Who  is  the  witness  here  1  God  himself— 
"  The  Lord  hath  been  witness  between  thee 
and  the  wife  of  thy  youth,  against  whom  thou 
hast  dealt  treacherously,  though  she  is  thy 
companion  and  the  wife  of  thy  covenant." 
This  indeed  is  a  case  in  which  human  wit- 
ness is  not,  and  cannot  be  always  attainable. 
A  few  transgressors  may  be  careless  of  ob- 
servation, and,  in  their  shame,  seek  no  dis- 
guise :  but  in  general,  the  offender  courts 
secrecy.  He  knows  his  reputation  is  at 
stake ;  and  that  nothing  lowers  a  man  more 
in  common  estimation  than  improper  temper 
and  conduct  towards  the  most  claimful  of  all 
relations.  He  therefore  tries  as  much  as 
possible  to  cloak  it.  Before  others  he  is  often 
full  of  pretensions.  He  uses,  perhaps,  the 
most  endearing  expressions;  and  while  the 
sufferer  is  conscious  of  the  falseness  of  all 
this  display,  he  passes  for  a  respectable,  per- 
haps a  fond  husband.  But  not  with  Him 
whose  eyes  are  in  every  place,  beholding  the 
evil  and  the  good.  He  sets  his  secret  sins  in 
the  light  of  his  countenance. 

It  would  be  well  for  us  always  to  remem- 
ber that  God  sees  us ;  and  the  less  we  are 
under  the  cognizance  of  others,  the  more,  in 
a  way  of  motive  and  influence,  we  need  to 
realize  the  inspection  of  our  witness  in 
heaven  and  our  record  on  high.  In  the 
world  and  in  the  church  we  are  more  upon 
our  guard,  because  there  are  many  to  observe 
us;  but  in  our  dwellings  we  give  ourselves 
more  latitudes.    But  God  is  there ;  and  there- 


fore we  should  walk  within  our  house  with 
a  perfect  heart,  and  set  no  wicked  thing  be- 
fore our  eyes,  and  hate  the  work  of  them 
that  turn  aside.  He  knoweth  our  down-sit- 
ting, and  our  up-rising.  He  compasseth 
about  our  path ;  and  is  acquainted  with  all 
our  ways.  He  is  a  witness  between  us  and 
our  servants  ;  a  witness  between  us  and  our 
children;  a  witness  between  us  and  our 
wives — a  constant  witness — an  unerring  wit- 
ness— a  witness  who  is  at  the  same  time  the 
lawgiver  whose  orders  we  contemn ;  and  the 
judge  who  will  bring  every  work  into  judg- 
ment, with  every  secret  tiring,  whether  it  be 
good  or  whether  it  be  evil. 

What  mysteries  of  iniquity  will  that  day 
make  manifest!  How  many  tyrants  have 
despatched  their  victims  in  dungeons,  or  by 
assassins  whose  employers  were  never  known ! 
How  many  seducers  have  entangled  and 
ruined  the  innocent  and  unwary,  the  disco- 
very of  whom  was  suppressed  by  power  or 
bribery  !  How  many  husbands  have  destroy- 
ed the  peace,  the  comfort,  the  health,  the  life 
of  those  who  ought  to  have  been  dear  to  them 
as  their  own  stuls,  uncensured,  and  even  un- 
suspected !  But  the  Lord  comes,  who  will 
bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  dark- 
ness, and  make  manifest  the  counsels  of  the 
heart. 

Yet  in  wrath  he  remembers  mercy :  and 
before  he  destroys,  he  warns  and  admonishes. 
Hence, 

IV.  The  means  of  prevention — "  There- 
fore take  heed  to  your  spirit,  and  let  none 
deal  treacherously  against  the  wife  of  bis 
youth." 

Here  we  are  led  immediately  to  the  source 
of  all  evil.  "Take  heed  to  your  spil■it.', 
There  all  begins :  and  there  is  no  sanctifying 
the  life  without  an  attention  to  the  heart 
Therefore  says  Solomon,  "  Keep  thy  heart 
with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues 
of  life."  Heal  the  spring,  and  the  streams 
will  be  wholesome.  Make  the  tree  good,  and 
the  fruit  will  be  good.  Renew  the  heart, 
and  upon  the  tongue  is  the  law  of  kindness. 
Replenish  the  heart,  and  out  of  the  abundance 
of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh.  "  A  good 
man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart 
bringeth  forth  good  things ;  and  an  evil  man 
out  of  the  evil  treasure,  bringeth  forth  evil 
things." 

But  the  meaning  is,  not  only  that  we 
should  attend  to  our  principles  if  we  would 
regulate  our  practice,  but  that  we  should 
never  overlook  or  neglect  the  very  first 
risings  of  evil.  Evil  is  spreading  like  leaven, 
and  a  little  leaven  leaveneth  the  whole  lump. 
It  may  be  too  late  to  assail  the  enemy  when 
he  has  advanced  and  gathered  force  from 
success.  Attack  him  at  the  outset,  while 
yet  his  strength  is  small ;  and  no  strong-hold 
is  taken  ;  and  no  pass  is  even  seized.  When 
lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth  forth  sin;  and 


THE  WIFE'S 

sin,  when  it  is  finished,  bringcth(  forth  death. 
Crush,  therefore,  the  cocatrice  in  the  egg, 
lest  it  break  forth,  and  become  a  fiery  flying 
serpent. 

Again.  All  are  concerned  in  this  caution 
— and  "  let  none  deal  treacherously  against 
the  wife  of  his  youth." 

Are  Levites  excepted  1  They  arc  chiefly 
the  persons  here  complained  of.  Their  lips 
are  indeed  to  keep  knowledge ;  but  they  are 
to  do,  as  well  as  to  teach.  They  are  to  be 
examples,  to  illustrate  and  recommend  their 
own  doctrine.  The  snuffers  in  the  taberna- 
cle were  to  be  made  of  pure  gold.  They 
who  reprove  others  are  to  be  blameless  them- 
selves. Their  exhortations,  dishonoured  by 
their  own  temper  and  practice,  will  not  only 
be  unavailing,  but  repulsive ;  and  all  the  con- 
victions they  would  fix  in  the  conscience, 
will  drop  like  arrows  from  an  impenetrable 
shield.  "  Behold,  thou  knowest  his  will, 
and  approvest  the  things  that  are  more  ex- 
cellent, being  instructed  out  of  the  law ;  and 
art  confident  that  thou  thyself  art  a  guide 
of  the  blind,  a  light  of  them  which  are 
in  darkness,  an  Lnstructer  of  the  foolish, 
a  teacher  of  babes,  which  hast  the  form 
of  knowledge  and  of  the  truth  ,  in  the 
law.  Thou,  therefore,  which  teachest  ano- 
ther, teachest  thou  not  thyself!  Thou  that 
preachest  a  man  should  not  steal,  dost  thou 
steal  1  Thou  that  sayest  a  man  should  not 
commit  adultery, dost  thou  commit  adultery] 
Thou  that  abhorrest  idols,  dost  thou  commit 
sacrilege  1  Thou  that  makest  thy  boast  of 
the  law,  through  breaking  the  law  disho- 
nourest  thou  God  1"  Who  revolts  not  at  re- 
ceiving his  food  from  a  leprous  hand "!  If  the 
bad  husband  disgraces  the  good  preacher, 
men  will  abhor  the  offering  of  the  Lord. 

Are  the  upper  ranks  above  this  injunction'! 
It  might  be  supposed  that  they  had  this  ima- 
gination, from  their  conduct  in  too  many  in- 
stances. But  the  higher  the  individual,  the 
more  is  he  bound  to  regard  it.  He  is  by  his 
station  the  more  observable  and  influential ; 
and  the  more  injurious  will  his  life  prove,  if 
it  be  vicious.  Evil  is  a  stream ;  and,  like 
every  other  stream,  it  does  not  ascend,  but 
runs  downward.  Or,  to  borrow  another 
image,  a  private  person  is  like  a  pocket 
watch,  that  only  misinforms  the  wearer :  a 
public  character  is  like  a  town  clock,  that 
leads  astray  the  whole  parish. 

Yet  no  man  is  entirely  unobserved  and  un- 
influential,  especially  when  placed  at  the  head 
of  a  family.  Therefore  let  the  low  as  well 
as  the  high  remember  the  advice.  Indeed 
the  less  of  outward  prosperity  persons  have, 
the  more  necessary  is  it  to  guard  against 
those  tempers  and  practices  that  will  imbit- 
ter  their  trials;  and  to  seek  solace,  under 
their  privations,  in  the  grace  of  the  Gospel, 
the  consolations  of  religion,  and  the  comforts 
of  domestic  peace  and  love.   And  execrated 


ADVOCATE.  309 

be  the  sentiment  that  love  and  poverty  are 
incompatible.  There  may  be  more  of  con- 
tentment, though  less  of  mirth ;  more  of  the 
reality,  though  less  of  the  show  of  happiness, 
in  the  cottage  than  in  the  mansion.  Where 
the  Lord  is  sought,  he  blesses  their  bread  and 
their  water.  When  in  the  simplicity  of  faith 
the  Scriptures  are  read  with  prayer,  and 
praise,  these  are  found  to  be  better  than  thou- 
sands of  gold  and  silver. 

Is  this  idle  talk  1  Here  is  the  language  of 
inspiration — "  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs 
where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox  and  hatred 
therewith.  Better  is  a  little  with  quietness, 
than  a  house  full  of  sacrifices  with  strife." 
"  A  little  that  a  righteous  man  hath,  is  better 
than  the  riches  of  many  wicked."  What 
heart-cold  wretchedness  is  often  found  con- 
nected with  splendour,  abundance,  and  ex- 
cess— "  The  blessing  of  the  Lord  it  maketh 
rich,  and  he  addeth  no  sorrow  with  it." 

Let  the  advancing  in  life  guard  against  the 
loss  of  their  first  regards.  The  effervescence 
of  the  passion  may  subside,  but  let  the  spirit 
of  the  principle  be  preserved ;  and,  like  gener- 
ous wines,  it  will  refine  and  improve  by 
keeping. 

And  let  not  the  young  be  careless.  The 
newly-married  pair,  happy  in  the  possession 
of  crowned  desires,  may  think  themselves  in 
no  danger  of  abated  regard :  but  we  have  seen 
goodness,  even  in  wedded  life,  like  the  morn- 
ing cloud  and  early  dew  that  passeth  away. 
Therefore  take  help  to  your  spirit.  Watch, 
not  only  against  the  grosser  evils,  but  minor 
delinquencies.  Guard  against  the  first  symp- 
tom of  declension.  One  tiling  prepares  for, 
brings  in,  justifies  another ;  and,  when  going 
astray,  the  smallness  of  each  movement  may 
keep  us  unalarmed,  till  we  look  back,  and 
are  shocked  at  the  distance  we  have  reached. 
Let  your  wife  have  no  reason  for  the  most 
distant  apprehension.  Let  no  sigh  flit  across 
her  mind.  Be  not  satisfied  to  keep  within 
the  bare  precincts  of  duty  ;  but  care  for  the 
things  of  the  wife,  how  you  may  please  the 
wife.  Be  open.  Be  candid.  Be  tender. 
Be  attentive.  Be  exemplary.  In  the  con- 
nexion before  us,  inattention  leads  to  indif- 
ference ;  and  indifference  to  dislike ;  and  dis- 
like to  disgust.  If  love  be  withdrawn,  wed- 
ded life  is  confinement,  misery,  hell.  Let 
love  abound,  and  no  ennui  is  known ;  no  re- 
straint is  felt ;  no  task  is  performed.  The 
yoke  is  easy ;  the  burden  is  light.  Duty  is 
privilege ;  and  to  oblige  is  more  delightful 
than  to  be  obliged.  But  remember,  religion 
is  the  best  promoter  and  preserver  of  this 
love;  and  therefore  let  domestic  morality 
be  founded  in  Christian  piety. 

"  But  why  have  you  chosen  such  a  pas- 
sage as  this  '!"  Go  and  ask  Malachi,  why  he 
inserted  it  in  his  short  series  of  prophesyings ! 
Go  and  ask  Paul,  whether  "  all  Scripture  is 
not  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  profit- 


310 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE. 


able  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction, 
and  for  instruction  in  righteousness'!" — Does 
not  the  unspeakable  importance  of  the  subject 
justify  the  selection  1  Does  not  the  charac- 
ter of  the  day  in  which  we  live,  render  such 
a  discourse  needful  ] 

But  I  have  availed  myself  of  a  particular 
event  to  bring  forward  these  thoughts  this 

morning.    It  is  the  union  of  with  . 

He  will  have  too  much  good  sense  to  take 
improperly  the  drift  of  the  subject ;  or  to  sup- 
pose that  caution  and  admonition  necessarily 
imply  censure  or  suspicion.  No,  my  young 
friend ;  I  am  fully  persuaded  better  things 
of  you,  though  I  thus  speak;  and  believe  that 
you  will  regard  her,  whose  heart  has  safely 
trusted  in  you  as  your  companion,  the  wife 
of  your  youth  and  of  your  covenant ;  and  con- 
tinue to  love  and  to  cherish  till  the  parting 
hour.  I  hail  you  on  the  completion  of  your 
wishes — "  He  that  findeth  a  wife,  findeth  a 
good  thing,  and  obtains  favour  of  the  Lord." 
I  would  not  interrupt  the  joy  of  your  espou- 
sals—But surely  it  cannot  be  unreasonable 
to  say  to  the  favoured  sons  of  men,  "  Rejoice 
with  trembling."  The  connexion  you  have 
formed  is  frail.  It  has  its  duties  as  well  as 
its  delights.  It  has  also  its  cares  as  well  as 
its  comforts.  Look  not  for  a  state  of  unalloy- 
ed happiness.  Expect  not  to  find  the  perfec- 
tion in  another,  which  you  know  another  will 
never  find  in  you.  I  commend  you  to  God 
and  to  the  word  of  his  grace :  and  may  He 
whom  you  have  honoured  in  believing  his 
truth,  that  "  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be 
alone,"  look  down  from  heaven,  and  say, 
"  From  this  day  will  I  bless  you." 

But  I  turn  to  you,  my  female  friends — and, 
as  far  as  I  know  my  own  convictions  and  feel- 
ings, I  am  your  friend — you  will  therefore 
allow  me  to  address  you  freely,  especially 
since  I  have  delivered  myself  unsparingly  to 
those  of  my  own  sex. 

First,  let  me  address  those  who  are  yet  un- 
connected.   It  is  not  improper  for  you  to 
think  of  a  condition  which  Nature  has  ordain- 
ed us  for ;  and  which  the  Scripture  pronoun- 
ces honourable  in  all.    Nor  should  you  revolt  i 
from  the  state  because  there  are  husbands 
who  "  cover  the  altar  of  God  with  tears."  All  . 
men  are  not  liars.    Nor  should  difficulties 
discourage  you.    These  are  found  in  every 
condition :  and  we  are  persuaded  the  state,  1 
if  properly  entered,  is  the  most  happy  in  this  < 
vale  of  tears.    How  much  of  the  relish  of  f 
our  comforts  is  lost  in  unsocial  enjoyment !  ] 
How  much  do  we  need  a  friend,  another  self,  ■ 
to  alleviate  by  sharing  the  cares  and  griefs  1 
of  life  !    How  many  moments  of  languor,  op-  l 
pressiveness,  and  despondency  are  there,  in  1 
which  the  heart  beats  for  attention,  sympa-  \ 
thy,  and  kindness !    How  helpless  is  a  soli-  i 
tary  female !  how  many  real  dangers  sur-  \ 
round  her;  and  how  are  these  perils  multi-  s 
plied  by  solitariness !    A  single  man  has  a  \ 


,  thousand  engagements  abroad :  a  woman,  if 
3  single,  has  little  diversion  from  thought,  and 
t  broods  over  real  and  imaginary  evils.  And 
-  how  inferior  is  she  reckoned  to  the  female 
l  who  sustains  the  character  of  a  wife,  and  a 
parent,  and  is  performing  her  duty  to  the 

•  world,  and  is  the  source  of  usefulness  to  the 
s  community ! 

But  there  is  nothing  reproachful  in  your 
i  present  condition — unless  you  choose  to  make 
■  it  so  by  exemplifying  in  your  temper  and 
conduct  the  imputations  thrown  on  your  state, 

•  especially  in  its  advancement.  Show  that  it 
i  does  not  necessarily  entail  malevolence; 

envy ;  scandal ;  curiosity ;  spleen ;  insipid  for- 
mality; prudery;  secrecy;  a  mystifying  of 
trifles.  The  character  and  lives  of  too  many 
of  our  sex  are  such  as  must  prevent  any  re- 
flection upon  you  for  declining  them:  and 
your  scorning  to  espouse  worthlessness  for 
the  sake  of  any  advantage ;  and  your  refusing 
every  connexion  unapproved  by  your  princi- 
ples and  conscience,  as  well  as  affection;  will 
raise  you  in  the  estimation  of  all  the  wise  and 
good. 

Never,  therefore,  settle  it  in  your  minds 
that  you  must  enter  this  state ;  or  that  mar- 
riage is  essential  to  your  usefulness,  respect- 
ability, and  happiness.  Refer  it  to  Him  who 
has  a  right  to  dispose  of  us  as  he  pleases; 
and  who  knows  what  is  best  for  us.  And  in 
the  mean  time  improve  the  advantages  of 
your  present  state.  You  are  free  from  a  thou- 
sand anxiousnesses  and  trials,  unfriendly  to 
mental  culture  and  enlarged  devotion.  "  She 
that  is  unmarried  careth  for  the  things  of  the 
Lord,  how  she  may  be  holy  both  in  body  and 
spirit.  But  she  that  is  married,  careth  for 
the  things  of  the  world,  how  she  may  please 
her  husband."  If  you  have  met  with  disap- 
pointment, let  these  reflections  prevent  dis- 
satisfaction ;  and  sober  your  hopes ;  and  make 
you,  when  you  think  of  altering  your  circum- 
stances, to  be  the  more  prudent,  circumspect, 
and  prayerful.  Look  after  good  sense,  good 
temper,  domestic  habits,  and,  above  all,  the 
fear  of  God.  And  as,  after  all  your  caution 
and  care,  it  is  possible  for  you  to  be  imposed 
upon,  commit  your  way  unto  the  Lord,  and 
let  integrity  and  uprightness  preserve  you 
while  you  wait  upon  him. 

Secondly,  some  of  you  are  found  among  the 
bereaved.  The  guide  of  your  youth,  and  the 
companion  of  your  days,  is  removed  from  you; 
and  your  heart  within  you  is  often  desolate. 
I  am  not  wishing  to  open  your  wounds  afresh 
— You  are  no  longer  seen  leaning  on  your 
beloved — But  there  is  another  Being  who 
now  stands  in  the  most  interesting  of  all  re- 
lations to  you.  He  is  the  "  Husband  of  the 
widow."  Be  not  hasty  to  leave  a  condition 
into  which  his  hand  has  led  you ;  but  as  a 
widow  indeed,  continue  trusting  in  God  with 
all  your  heart ;  and  hold  communion  with  the 
hour  when  you  shall  re-unite  with  those  who 


THE  WIFE'S  ADVOCATE. 


311 


are  gone  before,  and  are  now  waiting  to  re- 
ceive you  into  everlasting  habitations. 

Thirdly,  some  of  you  are  in  a  state  that 
admits  of  our  congratulations.  You  are  af- 
fianced to  those  who  are  sensible  of  your  va- 
lue ;  whose  inclinations  fall  in  with  their 
duty ;  who  render  love  for  love,  confidence 
for  confidence,  attention  for  attention — 

But  I  feel  for  others.  The  flattery  which 
once  perhaps  your  ear  was  too  eager  to  drink 
in,  has  ended  in  disappointment  and  sorrow ; 
and  your  eye  poureth  out  tears  unto  God. 
Perhaps  you  were  too  sanguine  in  your  ex- 
pectations. Perhaps  you  looked  for  more 
in  the  relation  than  reason  and  Scripture 
have  ever  promised  to  afford.  Perhaps  now, 
upon  the  whole,  you  have  but  little  reason  to 
complain.    Every  state  has  its  deductions. 

But  admitting  it  to  be  otherwise,  allow  me 
to  ask — Has  there  been  no  blame-worthiness 
attached  to  yourselves  7  Have  you  done 
every  thing  in  your  power  to  render  your- 
selves and  your  religion  approved?  You 
know  the  preacher  does  not  join  in  the  vul- 
gar and  unjust  reflections  cast  upon  your  sex 
— but  there  are  temper  flaws  unsightly,  and 
there  are  tongue  flaws  intolerable.  "  Better 
to  dwell  in  a  corner  of  the  house-top,  than 
with  a  brawling  woman  in  a  wide  house.  A 
continual  dropping  in  a  rainy  day  and  a  con- 
tentious woman  are  alike.  Are  you  slat- 
terns] Do  you  love  disorder)  Are  you 
idle,  tattlers,  busy-bodies,  wandering  from 
house  to  house  7  Are  you  keepers  at  home  7 
Do  you  render  your  dwelling  attractive  7  Do 
you  make  it  the  asylum  of  your  husband  from 
the  toils  and  troubles  of  life  7  Does  he  find 
it  the  scene  of  accommodation,  and  peace, 
and  cheerfulness  7  When  abroad,  is  he 
"  stung  with  the  thoughts  of  home ;"  and  is 
the  most  delightful  part  of  his  absence  the 
moment  that  turns  his  face  towards  the  loved 
place  of  his  rest  7 

We  know  that  you  can — we  have  too  often 
witnessed  it  not  to  know — we  know  that  you 
can,  present  religion  in  every  interesting  and 
engaging  form  ;  that  you  can,  not  only  ren- 
der domestic  life  graceful,  but  piously  attract- 
ive ;  that  you  can  fan  into  a  flame  an  expir- 
ing devotion ;  that  you  can  give  excellence 
and  energy  to  every  good  word  and  work; 
that  you  can  teach  and  enforce  with  a  per- 
suasive ease,  and  a  tender  mildness,  whose 
influence  is  rarely  without  some  success — 
Have  you  employed  these  efficiencies  in  con- 
nexion with  every  other?  For  let  me  tell 
you,  my  sisters,  if  you  have  not  availed  your- 
selves of  your  religious  means,  and  used 
them  with  prayer,  perseveringly,  and  wisely, 
and  invitingly,  you  have  as  yet  no  absolute 
cause  to  complain,  if  your  relative  condition 
be  not  such  as  you  would  have  it. 

After  all,  with  the  exception  of  human  in- 
firmity, we  will  suppose  a  possible  case.  You 
have  nothing  to  reproach  yourself  with ;  and 


yet  your  "  house  is  not  so  with  God."  Even 
here  we  have  a  few  words  of  advice  to  offer. 
Be  not  forward  to  complain  openly,  not  only 
because  noisy  grief  is  seldom  deemed  very 
worthy  of  sympathy ;  but  also  because,  in 
your  peculiar  case,  it  is  more  likely  to  add  to 
the  evil  than  to  remove  it.    Exposure  not 
only  mortifies,  but  commonly  exasperates, 
and  hardens ;  and  the  man,  not  only  feeling 
the  loss  of  self-respect,  but  the  esteem  of 
others,  becomes  reckless  in  his  conduct.  Be- 
ware of  retaliation  and  reproach.  Render 
not  railing  for  railing,  but  contrariwise,  bless- 
ing.   Ever  follow  the  example  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  "  who,  when  he  suffered,  threatened 
not,  but  committed  himself  to  Him  that  judg- 
eth  righteously."    Especially  avoid  every 
thing  that  is  irritating  when  the  mind  of  your 
husband  is  in  a  feverish  and  inflamed  state ; 
and  when  a  season  of  speaking  returns,  re- 
member, a  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath, 
while  grievous  words  stir  up  anger.  Yield- 
ing pacifieth  great  offences.    And  let  me  not 
offend  while  I  hint,  that  it  is  not  authority 
but  influence  that  belongs  to  your  condition  ; 
and  that  your  influence  is  not  derived  from 
violence  and  insistings,  but  from  prepossess- 
ings,  amiableness,  a  willingness  to  waive 
even  a  right,  and  a  desire  to  please  rather 
than  to  conquer — And  says  not  the  Apostle 
the  same?    "  Likewise,  ye  wives,  be  in  sub- 
jection to  your  own  husbands  :  that,  if  any 
obey  not  the  word,  they  also  may  without  the 
word  be  won  by  the  conversation  of  the 
wives ;  while  they  behold  your  chaste  con- 
versation coupled  with  fear:  whose  adorning, 
let  it  not  be  that  outward  adorning  of  plaiting 
the  hair,  and  of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting 
on  of  apparel;  but  let  it  be  the  hidden  man 
of  the  heart,  in  that  which  is  not  corruptible, 
even  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price. 
For  after  this  manner  in  the  old  time  the 
holy  women  also,  who  trusted  in  God,  adorn- 
ed themselves,  being  in  subjection  unto  their 
own  husbands;  even  as  Sarah  obeyed  Abra- 
ham, calling  him  lord :  whose  daughters  ye 
are  as  long  as  ye  do  well,  and  are  not  afraid 
with  any  amazement." 

Some  men,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  seem 
strangers  to  all  refinement  of  feeling;  and 
cannot  be  overcome  by  even  the  meekness  of 
wisdom.  Yet  if  the  address  of  tenderness 
and  entreaty  be  unhappily  useless,  all  car- 
riage of  an  opposite  character  will  be  more 
than  useless.  The  being  upon  whom  gentle- 
ness and  good  nature  are  lost,  can  never  be 
amended  by  ill-humour  and  clamour.  A 
man  of  sense  will  often,  for  the  sake  of  pro- 
priety or  peace,  submit  to  be  talked  down  by 
a  wife  talented  in  this  species  of  oratory ;  but 
a  man  destitute  of  sense,  will  be  sure  to  re- 
tort such  treatment  with  double  violence  and 
insult.  "  With  the  well-advised  is  wisdom :" 
while  fools  are  the  most  unpersuadable  of  all 


312  THE  WIFE'S 

animals — But  you  should  not  marry  fools. 
You  may  be  imposed  upon  with  regard  to 
piety — but  you  cannot  be  mistaken  with  re- 
gard to  sense. 

But  if,  after  all  your  blamelessness  and 
commendableness,  you  are  in  the  affliction  we 
have  been  endeavouring  to  prevent — one 
source  of  relief  is  open — Carry  your  distress 
to  the  mercy-seat ;  and  spreading  it  before  the 
God  of  all  comfort,  say — "  Lord,  all  my  de- 
sire is  before"  Thee,  and  my  groaning  is  not 
hid  from  Thee."  While  He  permits  your 
sufferings,  He  loves  you.  He  pities  you.  He 
is  on  your  side.   He  is  able  to  turn  the  curse 


ADVOCATE. 

into  a  blessing — "  We  know  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God."  We  have  seen  wives  who  have  been 
chosen  in  the  furnace  of  affliction.  They 
have  had  this  valley  of  Achor  given  them  for 
a  door  of  hope.  Their  purposes  being  broken 
offl  even  the  thoughts  of  their  heart ;  and 
their  prospects  on  life's  fairest  side  being 
clouded  and  gloomy  ;  they  have  looked  out 
after  "a  better  country."  They  have  asked, 
"  Where  is  God  my  Maker,  that  giveth  songs 
in  the  night  V  They  have  said,  "  And  now, 
Lord,  what  wait  I  for  1  My  hope  is  in 
Thee." 


END  OF  MISCELLANIES. 


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